CALL OF THE DAY: the Strangulator
I call him… the Strangulator. (Duh-duh-DUHHHHH.)
Hey, don’t judge me and my dramatic names. I have to amuse myself somehow.
Anyway, the Strangulator is a mild-sounding older gentleman who, in his fantasy, wants to rape me and then kill me. His set-up is almost romantic, as he lingers in loving detail over my hair, my beautiful body, what I am wearing (inevitably black lace panties and bra, and sheer black stockings). He has narrative reason to know what I’ll be wearing because in the fantasy he’s been watching me through the bedroom window. He doesn’t specify for how long he’s been watching me, but the intimate, honeyed tone of his voice makes it feel like weeks or months.
That’s all deeply embedded backstory, if anything. The important thing is that he rapes me—and that he is able to say that he is raping me, over and over—and that is the last time I’ll ever be raped. No, fucked. Actually he says it both ways. The inadvertent political echoes of “last time you’ll ever be raped” make me curl my lip in scorn and something else, because sometimes women get raped more than once. Sometimes it’s chronic.
He is one of the callers who tripped me out the first time I did him because I have had such limited exposure to the activity he’s fantasizing about. Not the rape part, I know all about that. I have friends who have rape fantasies, I’ve dabbled a little myself The snuff part, the part where he chokes the breath out of me and keeps violating me. That I don’t know a damn thing about. I DON’T EVEN KNOW HOW TO PRETEND IT. I don’t watch horror or thriller movies. In historical movies, when someone is being hanged, I always avert my eyes. I don’t watch violence in movies at all. Maybe I’ve read about being choked? On accident.
So I don’t have much to go on, but I made a routine, and it seems to do the trick: protest verbally for a couple of minutes, let out whimpers and gasps for three or four minutes, and then do short, soft choking noises for the last four or five minutes. I think in real life it’d be over a lot sooner, but I don’t know. Like I said, it works for him.
You know what works for me, when I have to do this and other scary-feeling calls? Finding the kink parallels. I have talked many, many times before about how the incest/pedo calls made more sense and stopped freaking me out when I thought of them as age-play sessions and compared them to dynamics and stories that I’ve shared with daddies of mine. Similarly, Mr. Strangulator here fantasizes about raping. Well, there are women, lots of ’em—and men!—who fantasize about being raped. Both sides of the equation are being played with.
Personally I find it harder to keep from being affected by a fantasy if it is actually really in line with prevailing attitudes or sociological phenomena or crime statistics. I feel less stressed out when my callers bring me rape fantasies with themselves as the target. I guess then it’s easier to believe that they don’t really want it, couldn’t possibly want it. When the Strangulator calls, or any of the guys call wanting to rape me? Well, it just feels like more of the same shit that’s out there in the world. Bleah.
But again.
There are people with rape fantasies going one way. If that’s fair game, then the other direction has to be open for business, too.
He used to just hang up, but after the first few calls he has taken to debriefing with me afterward…
“Did you say you were married?”
Yes.
“Does your husband know you do this kind of thing?”
He doesn’t know all the details, but yes, he knows.
“Good, Well, you take care of yourself now. I’ll talk to you again soon.”
Bye, I say, apparently arising from the dead.
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