Every woman has fantasies. Many ladies would love in real life for a burly bare-chested Highlander to grab them into his strong arms and rip away their bodice, just like in the romance novels. Other women have darker desires or needs and it wasn't entirely a complete surprise to discover one evening that Megan, a rather casual acquaintance of mine that I had been hoping to get to know better someday, admitted to us rather frankly that she had rape fantasies ... and insisted that most other women had them too!

I didn't actually know Megan all that well, but she'd been an acquaintance for almost nine months or so and a some-time drinking buddy of mine had dated her once a few months ago and pronounced her to be 'freaky' in bed, but not in a good way. Being a would-be southern gentleman, he wouldn't elaborate much more than that, other than to gently suggest that she wasn't quite his cup of tea.

We were all part of a regular 'Mixers at the Museum' group, where the smart set, our group of bright young things in our late 20's and early 30's met every Friday evening at the local science and natural history museum for cocktails. There would be a short lecture, exhibition or film, never more than thirty minutes long, along with a well stocked cash bar. The margueritas, martinis and cosmos weren't cheap, but that was part of the allure too. Keeping the drinks a bit too expensive for most of the usual bar-hopping crowd, not to mention the dress code of 'professional attire' made for a rather select assortment of young but successful singles.

Strictly speaking, it wasn't really a singles 'dating' sort of group, but a great deal of mixing and matching did go on. Instead the mood was usually slightly more serious than that, with probably a majority of the women now evaluating the male stock more with longer terms interests of matrimony, rather than just a weekend fling. Here it was all about showing off ones education or raw intelligence, or some faux facsimile of it, although the ladies did seem to gravitate as always to the taller guys with the more expensive suits who didn't visibly wince after buying another round of drinks.

I was reasonably witty and could act remotely clever on most days and although my suit and tie came from a chain department store, I could fairly safely blend into the natural habitat of my betters and pretty soon I was accepted as one of the guys. None of the ladies had found me irresistible nesting material for their broody matrimonial instincts, but I was on friendly speaking terms now with most of them and when I sidled in to join any existing conversation the topic didn't change or have embarrassing silence or glares ensue.

After several stiff drinks, the conversations could become rather personal and candid. In this particular instance rather late on this Friday night, a group of about a dozen guys and gals were discussing the cultural practice of bride kidnapping, with the original historical duties of the best man being to assist with the capture of the groom's intended and witness her rape, legalizing their marriage by abduction. This in turn lead to some lively debate over whether the bride was really raped or not, the abduction and even her deflowering being an expected cultural event for which she was prepared for, at least somewhat in theory. Some of the women agreed and others didn't.

"Rape is always rape ... and always wrong, even if it is cultural." One woman insisted.

"Only when a woman says 'No'." One of the guys laughed, "Which is often what she says when she really means 'Yes' more times than not."

Now that really opened up a can of worms! Women don't mind being seen as fickle and contrary and utterly reserve the right to use both 'Yes' and 'No' rather interchangeably in many instances. They like being pursued by men and playing very hard to get, but understandably were extremely reluctant to at all admit that perhaps, under some circumstances, they might themselves enjoy being kidnapped and abducted to become someone's bride ... willing or not.

Megan then broke the debate wide open by admitting that she had rape fantasies! She'd had at least three drinks so far that I'd noticed and was noticeably relaxed, if not quite tipsy.

"Look! We all have rape fantasies! Admit it!" She insisted. Her girlfriends all disagreed to some partial extent, although a few of the gals broke off eye contact and began showing an increased interest in their drinks.

"Ok, true," one of the gals admitted, "but rape isn't really about sex anyway ... it's about power and control."

"And surrendering it!" Megan agreed. "Rape isn't usually about fucking some weak powerless woman, it's about taking control over a strong one. The stronger the woman is usually, the more that she secretly inside wants to be controlled, or even broken. She might desire that feeling of vulnerable, of being used and helpless and even might want to be raped, the powerless victim of her attacker! Face it! Genetically women are smaller and weaker than men and for countless generations we were their property, and some women still like things that way!"

Now this was too much! If a man had said anything close to this we would have been physically ejected from the mixer as a Neanderthal barbarian. As it was, most of the other ladies decided that it was time either for a trip to the powder room or that their drinks that needed refreshing. The guys were pretty embarrassed as well and most of them moved on to join other conversations, leaving me alone with Megan, who was now giving me a look of appraisal.

"Art, do you agree with what I said!" She asked me in a rather calculating manner.

"In generalities, yes. I've known several smart and very independent women who enjoyed wearing the pants outside of the bedroom, but preferred there to become the submissive partner. Is that sort of the point you were making?"

"I know women like that too ... intimately. I look at one every morning in the bathroom mirror! We enjoy wielding power at their careers, becoming successful, relishing it even, but we also need the other side too, for balance in their lives. To submit to someone else, even forcefully so ... like violent rape. Some woman need this, yearn for it even ... the more brutally the better! Not sex, but to be dominated, fucked and used!"

The way she had said 'some women' was extremely suggestive and she held my glaze for a long moment before she changed the subject entirely, asking me how my job was going. I'd recently made master carpenter and had even gotten a decent pay raise from my boss, a repair services contracting company. The work was good and I liked handling different sorts of projects and staying busy. I was saving up the extra money now to buy a house, and even buying another round of drinks for the two of us didn't cause my wallet to cringe as much as it used to. Things for me were looking up.

Megan was doing extremely well herself, but she'd come from serious money right from the start and daddy had paid for her expensive private college education from out of his petty cash account. She was a departmental marketing manager for a big oil and gas corporation downtown and worked insane crazy hours, including most weekends, but she rarely ever missed a Friday night with the gang at the museum. She was driven and very smart, and her superior effort at work was going to earn her another promotion very likely later in the year.

She wasn't a classical beauty but she was what some women would call handsome, with strong features. She was short but slim and with short cut pixyish blonde hair. Her legs might have been short, but they always looked good. She always wore stocking and never pantyhose with her little black dresses and relatively high heels for her small sized feet. Her breasts were smallish, B's probably, but adequate, and some evenings if the lights were shining just right upon her dress you could tell that she had firm prominent nipples that her bra couldn't quite fully restrain.

She was extremely intelligent and had more than her share of wittiness but she wasn't a favorite within the mixer group. The other women tended to find her loud and overly talky and more than a little brassy, overly free about speaking out her mind ... such as her rape related comments tonight. She also tended to intimidate the guys, for much the same reasons. Most persons asking her out on a date tended to get shot down rather bluntly. I'd made that mistake once myself the first night that I'd met her!

At ten o'clock, the mixer was over and I walked Megan out to her car, a late model Lexus out in the parking lot. I wasn't expecting a goodbye kiss or even really a hug from her, but instead I was extremely surprised when she paused before getting into her car to make a rather unusual request of me.

"Art, I'm almost scared to go home alone, by myself now. My back door of the condo is sticking badly and the deadbolt sometimes doesn't catch securely. If someone were to lift up on the outside door handle and shake it about, it might probably jar loose. Also the security cameras down the maintenance hallway and in the staircase have been broken for months now! Someone could easily break in this way ... like maybe a rapist. I don't have a gun in the house and if there was an intruder, I'd probably just completely panic and fall to pieces ... and do anything and everything that he told me to do, especially if he had a knife in hands and used it to cut away all of my clothing!"

"Well, you wouldn't want that to happen." I laughed, although I could tell from her eyes that was exactly what she wanted to happen. "Give me your address and I'll call and set a time to come over and look at the problem. Probably the foundation or the door frame has shifted a little and I can reset the frame or the lock for you."

"Oh, please do! Feel free to come ... anytime, you don't need to call. It needs very direct attention right away, feel free to be as forceful fixing the problem as necessary and I'll do whatever you tell me to do!"

She couldn't have been more suggestive if she'd tried. Megan was hinting loudly and very plainly that she wanted me to come over and forcibly rape her. Furthermore, she could tell that I was intrigued by this unusual opportunity.

She drove off without another word and during my own drive home I began to ponder how this petite lady would most enjoy being seized and fucked without her overt consent. The issues being now 'how' I would take her, not 'if' I would pay her a surreptitious nocturnal visit.

Megan clearly wanted me to rape her, the trick was now how to plan this so that I wouldn't spend the next decade in jail in the event that she suddenly changed her mind in the middle of our fun together. I didn't think that was some ultra radical feminist honeytrap designed to lure me in for beating or even police arrest, but I wanted to think over this situation for a few days first at the very least to better prepare for any unexpected contingencies.

For starters, I decided that I'd let a little time run by before paying my expectant victim a friendly visit. I wanted to make her wait and anticipate the experience and add more than a bit of uncertainty. Would I come or not? This would also give me a small but adequate measure of potential deniability if the situation turned bad or a bit too weird right from the very start.

I also took the time to scout out her condo for a couple of days so that I could locate all of the security cameras and get a feel for how I could get past the main security gate without using the code she had given me. Neither turned out to be problems of any significance. Megan's condo was in a nicer section of town but the majority of its tenant renters and owners were young professionals like her, not too many years removed from college, with very active social and party lives.

The main gate from the street was constantly in use, opening and closing, admitting a seemingly never-ending stream of cars that came and went at all hours of the day or night. The security gate also had distinct tendency to 'stick' remaining fully open long enough for multiple cars to enter at a time without the need to reenter a proper security code. Furthermore, there did not appear to be any security camera covering this entrance.

Her condo complex considered of a group of four identical buildings arrayed in a square, each of six stories in height. Megan's was on the second floor of the rear building to the right and tended to have slightly less auto and foot traffic outside and most of the residents tended to park along the left side of the complex, closer to the access gate to the street. I could locate a few security cameras in the area but they didn't overlap or provide comprehensive coverage of the exterior grounds. After sketching a rough map, I could fairly accurately compute the visibility angles and decide upon a parking location and route to her building that avoided direct camera coverage.

Wearing a hoodie with a mask and non-descript jeans and sneakers, even a long-range shot of me wouldn't reveal any significant details!

Also, just as she had told me, neither of the security cameras covering the maintenance staircase and the second floor level showed working lights and both seemed to be dead. The door at the loading dock and dumpsters was a deadbolt, but not a good one and it had an overly wide gap between the door and the frame. I popped it open with a credit card and a small flathead screwdriver and took the stairs up to the second floor. Residents had an elevator and an exterior set of stairs to reach their front doors but each unit also had a rear door that led to a common maintenance hallway where they could leave their trash bags and other household waste outside their door for pickup and disposal by the maintenance staff.

The door had shifted, just as I had assumed and indeed her back door to the maintenance hallway was rather insecure. A strong up and down jerk would probably force the bolt out of the door frame bracket, as would a stout kick as well. The old faithful combination of a credit card and a screwdriver would suffice here as well. Plenty of options! Yep, Megan's condo was very definitely extremely vulnerable to intrusion and a rapist could indeed force his way in and out (not to mention in and out of her!) with very little apparent risk. I didn't force open her door as I couldn't be certain that I could force it back closed again afterwards without leaving some trace, but I wasn't particularly concerned about internal security. The unit might have a security alarm but I wouldn't be entering her flat before her arrival anyway.

The idea of raping Megan, which had seemed so crazy at first, was now very possible and practical indeed! I took a second look around and then went home with a smile.

I decided to enact my plan the following Friday night and I didn't attend the usual mixer at the museum. I did call Megan that prior evening and left a phone message that I'd been exceptional busy at work with a critical project and I'd likely miss the mixer, but hoped that I could come out to her place to check on her door sometime early next week. I hoped that this message would put her off her guard a little bit so that my 'surprise' would be a bit more of a shock to her.

Megan always stayed at the mixers until closing, ten o'clock precisely, and I'd already calculated that her drive home would take about twenty minutes, and I was prepared for her. I actually arrived a bit early to better merge in with the heavy early evening flood of traffic at the security gate. I timed my arrival well and had no trouble driving in quickly and unnoticed as the gate was stuck open with the frequent traffic I merged in with the rest of the cars unnoticed. Megan's lexus was not in her assigned car spot but I drove around the complex once just to make certain, and then parked in the far back corner in the area I'd scouted that didn't appear to have security camera coverage. Then it was time to wait.

From here, I could see Megan's parking spot and I had about an hour to wait before her arrival. The time seemed to crawl by slowly and I had to force myself to not panic and relax, and I resisted the urge to get out of the car and walk around for awhile to calm my nerves. Dressed all in black might attract some unwanted attention and I didn't want to risk being noticed at all.

At last, Megan arrived right about on schedule and I watched her park her car and then walk around her building to take the front elevator, as expected. I could now dash out of my car with my gym bag full of useful things and sprint to the rear loading dock, unseen. The timing had been good and after a quick but cautious look around I didn't see anyone nearby. I made it to the rear security door unnoticed and in a moment I had the door open and I was up the stairs in a flash, now glad that I could burn off some of my nervous energy before hand. The stairwell and second floor maintenance corridor cameras were still dark and the florescent lighting was irregular and dim enough that even if anyone heard me walking down the rear hallway and peeked out of their spyholes, they wouldn't get much of a good glimpse at me. Still I tried to move silently. I wasn't in any hurry!

The elevator must have been running slow because I had several minutes of increasingly impatient waiting until I heard the front door open and close with a bang inside. I resisted the urge to break in right away and I tried counting slowly to one hundred first. That accomplished I listened again hard through the door but didn't hear anything in particular and I decided to make my grand entry.

Popping the lock out of the misaligned doorframe ended up being as easy as I'd anticipated and I even had little trouble resetting it back quietly so that from the outside corridor nothing looked amiss. From the rear doorway I found myself in her kitchen with a view of the dining room and part of the living room, which shared a large open layout space. I didn't see Megan but I could hear sounds of water coming from around the corner to my right, when I supposed the bathroom was.

Needed to be even more quiet now, I slid off my sneakers so that I could sneak a peak around the corner in just my socks, making no sound at all. Megan was apparently just stepping into the shower and out of habit I suppose she had the bathroom door mostly closed, except for about an inch gap. Doors everywhere in this condo seemed to have alignment issues!