My Forbidden Fantasies: The Dark Side of My Mormon Upbringing

As I sit in my dorm room, surrounded by the quiet of the night, I find myself thinking about the most forbidden subjects. My mind wanders to the dark, twisted fantasies that I've always been too afraid to acknowledge. It's a dirty little secret that I've kept hidden even from my boyfriend Paul, who's still in Utah. I know I'm not supposed to be thinking about this stuff, but it's hard not to when I'm surrounded by the freedom and excitement of college life. My Mormon upbringing has always taught me to be pure and virtuous, but the truth is, I'm not as innocent as I seem.

I've always been drawn to the idea of being taken, of being ravished by a man who's not afraid to take control. It's a twisted desire, I know, but it's one that I've never been able to shake. I imagine myself being pinned down, my hands tied behind my back, my legs spread wide as a man devours me. It's a fantasy that's both repulsive and alluring, and one that I'm too afraid to admit to anyone, even myself. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that it's a part of me, a part that I've been trying to suppress for far too long.

I know that I'm not supposed to be thinking about this stuff, that I'm supposed to be a good girl, a perfect Mormon girl. But the truth is, I'm not as perfect as I seem. I'm a mess of contradictions, a jumble of desires and fears and doubts. And as I lie here in the dark, my mind racing with forbidden thoughts, I realize that I'm not sure who I am anymore. Am I a good girl, or am I something more? Something darker, something more sinister? I don't know, and that's what scares me the most.