Hi everyone!
I've been a lurker for the last three weeks. Lol.
I absolutely love to write gang-rape fantasy stories, it's just that I love it too much and it ends up messing with the rest of my life and my mental health. I hope that this time around, I'll keep a proper balance between this peculiar hobby and my other activities.
I'm in a relationship with my spouse of two decades. She knows I write erotica, but I haven't told her that I write (and get off a lot on) gang-rape fantasies.
If you asked me what I enjoy the most (beside the scenes of savage undressing and rape) I'd say it's the roleplaying that goes through my mind. I always put myself in the shoes of the rapists and victims (and others) and ask myself what they would do.
Let's say it's 1922 and I'm the captain of 200 Mongolian bandits who just attacked the Siberian Express train and leave with some 50 hostages, mostly white and well-off. What would I do?
A. Listen to the ladies when they tell me that forcing an unwilling woman is immoral, and some of my men begin to court the more beautiful women among the captives, who are all well treated by myself and my "horde of savages". The story ends with willing marriages and pregnancies. The European women learn to speak some Mongolian.
B. I force them to walk a good distance through the steppes, and at the end of the afternoon, me and my horde of savages, we gang-rape all the female prisoners, Chinese, Japanese, German, British, French, Swiss... with the husbands and fathers watching of course, knowing they will never tell about it because the shame will be too great. The fun lasts for two days and nights. The story ends with forced marriage and forced pregnancies. The European women learn to speak some Mongolian.
I think I know what answer would win the poll. Indeed, I first started writing rape stories because I got tired of those meek, watered-down movies that have got almost as morally tame as during the Code era. Woke girls are top of my list of victims by the way.
