The
Net Utility of a Rape
by Sterling John
had just finished his junior year in college. He had studied
philosophy, which raised profound questions about the nature of right
and wrong. There was utilitarianism, the idea of striving for the
greatest good for the greatest number. He had just finished a course in
evolutionary psychology, with its analysis of amoral natural selection
as the force behind some of our thoughts and feelings. What mattered
most was leaving descendants. Morality and cooperation had their place,
but deep down people like all other organisms were selfish -- it wasn't
something to be ashamed of.
It was all fascinating. If he took
his liberal education seriously, the point was not just to stuff your
head full of knowledge. If what you learned mattered, you should be
open to living your life differently. He was now trying to do that --
to question old assumptions, to do what was important and avoid what
wasn't.
Hiking made him feel good, especially in beautiful
countryside like this. It was also good exercise, and combining two
things was a good way to maximize utility. It was May, and the semester
was over. He walked quickly down the forest trail. It was fairly level
here, though he'd been up and down a few hills already. The descent
from the last one had been quite steep. Now the conifers were thinning
and he saw a meadow ahead -- filled with wildflowers. Definitely a
little utility bump from that.
He was in Virginia on a
seldom-used and obscure trail and he looked forward to passing the day
alone, without running into other hikers. He had decided that the
utility for him in avoiding others outweighed the utility from the more
spectacular scenery that drew more hikers. The problem was that when he
met someone, there were choices to make. Social choices. He could
totally ignore them, or make brief eye contact, or nod his head, or
mumble,"Hi". He would never stop and try to make conversation, but
sometimes others did. But if they stopped to talk, it was an awkward
social situation.
With the meadow on his right and scrub forest
on his left, he noticed the double blaze that signaled something
unusual about the trail ahead. He paused, and as he did, he heard
sounds coming from his left. Another hiker. Rats! He then saw that the
trail turned sharply to the left, which explained the double blaze.
It
was a woman who came into view. Above well-worn hiking books were gray
socks, and then a pair of smooth, lovely legs, leading up to blue
shorts. Above the shorts was a yellow T-shirt. On her back was a full
frame pack. She had reddish-blond hair cut short, blue eyes and quite
an attractive face. Quite a pretty girl. She looked to be roughly his
age, face glowing softly with health and vitality.
"Hi," she said as she came up to him, slowing her pace. "Didn't think I'd see anybody else out here today."
A conversationalist. Ugh! "Right, me neither," he said, and walked past her. Negative utility. But...
But
then he stopped. This was just the sort of girl he was trying to meet.
There was a large utility cost to making conversation, to reaching out,
but the expected gain from finding a girlfriend was high -- should be
high enough to justify the short-term cost of awkwardness.
"Wait," he said.
The girl stopped and turned. She was really quite pretty. Petite -- maybe 5'2" to his 6'1".
He
had always just assumed he wanted a girlfriend. But did he? What did
utility say? What did evo psych say? "I would like to have sex with
you." Hmmm. He realized that was an unusual thing to say. He had always
been a bit awkward socially, but he shouldn't be bound by social
conventions.
"Right," she said, shaking her head. "I would not like to have sex with you," and she turned to walk away.
He
followed her. Someone had told him that the way to really connect with
people was to be himself, to say what was on his mind. "I would find
sex very pleasurable," he said. "You would too, I believe. It is a
natural human instinct. We both would have pleasure. A win-win
situation."
"Bye," she said, walking a little faster.
He matched her pace and raised it a bit. Selfishness. Sometimes selfishness was good. He put a hand on her pack, and she slowed.
"Let me go!" she said with some heat.
"I
don't want to let you go. I want to have sex with you. I realize you
are reluctant. But I figure we could talk this out. Think about the
cost-benefit analysis."
"I'll scream," she said.
"There's no one else for miles around," he said.
"I passed someone a mile or so back," she said, meeting his gaze and then looking away.
"I
don't believe you," he said. "It's very low probability that you're
telling the truth about that. I'm trying to be rational about this.
Explain why you don't want to have sex. What is your cost-benefit
analysis? Do you not find sex enjoyable?"
She sighed. "I do
under the right circumstances, with the right man at the right time.
You are not the right man and this is not the right time."
"Evolutionary
psychology can explain our different perspectives," he said. "As a
female human, you would invest far more in an offspring than I would.
My only obligatory investment is a few minutes of copulation and a
small quantity of semen released into your vagina. If a pregnancy does
result, my net fitness would be enormously increased."
"Yes, and
since this is the situation for male humans, many of them want to mate
with me. I as a female have choice. Typically I would choose a male and
would allow him exclusive sexual access in return for his agreement to
provide resources for our children."
John smiled. "You know this stuff!"
"Or
I might find an especially good-looking man who I judge to have
high-quality genes. The best is to have both combined in one man. But
second best is a male who believes he has exclusive sexual access to me
as a starting point. But then I find a father of higher genetic quality
and mate with him secretly. My genes are mixed with better ones to
increase the success of my offspring for a generation or two, while the
other man helps raise them."
"And do you judge me not to be of high genetic quality?"
She
met his gaze for an instant and looked away. "I am not in a stable
relationship with a man who would help me raise children. It is to my
strong advantage to delay sex until I am in such a relationship. But
actually this is all irrelevant. I am not fertile."
"How do you know?"
She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I'm on the pill."
"You
may well be lying. It is worth my while to try to impregnate you even
if the chances of success are low, because of the huge potential
payoff."
"This is all irrelevant in the modern era. I would surely have an abortion if you were to rape me and I were to get pregnant."
"Once again, there is some chance that you would not elect to have an abortion."
"Have no you decency?" she cried. "No sense of right and wrong? The golden rule?"
He
liked it better when she talked about utility. "I am trying to ignore
such sentimental considerations. Right and wrong have no objective
basis. Social rules are worth obeying within a small community where
your relatives for instance might punish me. But we are anonymous
strangers."
"Listen," she said. "You have laid out evolutionary
reasons why you are constructed to have certain preferences. But we are
rational humans. We can set those aside. Why should you be a slave to
your inclinations? Your genes may have built you to want to leave
offspring, but you don't have to accept that."
"We could set
them aside. But in the absence of overriding considerations, I have
chosen to align myself with my evolutionary make-up."
"I haven't. I use my thoughts to override my instincts and do what I think is important. To do what is moral."
"But you yourself were suggesting that the reason you do not want sex is because of adverse consequences to your fitness."
"Yes!"
"But
you as a rational person know that you will not suffer the consequence
of an unwanted pregnancy. So why not transcend your own evolutionarily
specified tendencies?"
She looked at him and sighed, and started
to walk away. He grabbed her pack once more. She pulled away hard, but
he kept his hold.
She looked at him a moment. "So, are you going to rape me?"
He thought. "Yes, if you aren't willing, that is what I'm going to do."
"Well, then let's get this over with," she said, shrugging her pack to the ground beside the trail.
John smiled and let his pack slide to the ground, but as he did, the woman sprinted away down the trail the way she had come.
John
gave chase. She was fast! But he was faster, and his longer stride gave
him more choice in his footing over the roots and rocks on the trail.
Before she had gone a hundred yards, he grabbed her around the middle
and they tumbled to the ground together.
"Oh, shit," she murmured between panted breaths.
"That
wasn't nice," he said as they lay panting, her face down in the dirt,
him face down on top of her. "I am stronger and faster than you. You
should realize you will pay a penalty for trying to resist me. Let me
see..." He found her arm and put his hands on it the way you hold a
baseball bat. He then twisted one in one direction, the other in the
other -- what he had been raised to call an Indian sunburn.
"Ow," she said softly.
"Do you agree not to try to run away again or resist me?"
She hesitated. He twisted his hands again, harder.
"Yes! I agree."
He smiled, and as he lay on her, he slid a hand up between her legs to her crotch.
"Hey!" she said.
He
was momentarily embarrassed and removed his hand, but summoned logic.
"Well, we were talking about sex. Surely I'm going to invade your
personal space."
He slid his hand up between her thighs again.
His cock was hardening in his shorts. He could do her like this, face
down on the trail. It would be sufficient for his attempt at
impregnation. But he also wanted to enjoy the experience. That was part
of his expected utility too. Two benefits to a single activity. The
meadow was nicer. "Let's go back to your pack."
She got up,
giving him a dirty look, and headed back, retracing the route of the
chase. "I think we should talk about this more," she said over her
shoulder. "Certainly you can see that I evaluated this as being so
strongly against my interest that I was willing to abandon my valuable
camping equipment and make a low-probability escape attempt."
"Yes, I can see that," he said. "But the thing is, I'm thinking of maximizing utility."
"Doesn't the knowledge that this will have a huge negative impact on my utility weigh in your own calculations?"
"A
little, but not much. When it comes right down to it, I'm maximizing my
own utility, and willing to do so at the expense of yours. It's the
rational thing to do."
"Before you were arguing that it would increase my utility."
"True,
but that was an attempt to get you to agree. Your cooperation would
make this a higher-probability venture, so your agreement would help my
utility whether my arguments were valid or not."
"Won't it be unpleasant if I'm struggling and crying and screaming?"
He smiled.
"Oh, no... You're not one of those guys who would find that, um, increases your utility?"
"No,"
he said. "But as I showed you back there, I am willing to hurt you if
you don't do what I want. So if you don't think you can actually
dissuade me from ejaculating in your vagina..." He felt a strong pulse
of blood as he said that, "... it's in your interest to be cooperative.
I imagine struggling and crying is inherently unpleasant, and if I
punish you for them it is even more so."
She bit her lip. "What if I've got HIV?"
"That's very low probability, and besides, female-to-male transmission is exceedingly rare in western populations."
"And
what if you have HIV?" she said. "No, don't tell me... it's your
utility you're interested in here, not mine. Do you have HIV?"
"No,"
he said, then added, "though I suppose it would be in my interest to
say I didn't even if I did, in order to minimize the chances of your
struggling more."
She looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes.
He felt a brief pang of compassion, but quashed it. His utility was what counted.
"Want to have lunch first?" she said. "I've got a couple roast beef sandwiches. You could have one."
It did sound good, but...
"Or both," she said, and he thought she suppressed a smile.
Yes, she would gladly give both of her roast beef sandwiches to avoid getting raped -- that is, this sex against her will.
"No, the chances of someone coming along are small, but they aren't zero. I think we need to get on with this."
"Even if I'm not struggling, you know this is rape, right?"
"Yes, I know that," he said, looking around. "Over there," he said, pointing to a level patch of grass ten feet off the trail.
"So
close to the trail?" she said. "What if someone comes along... Oh dear,
here I am thinking about embarrassment when I should want to maximize
the chances of detection."
"Good point," he said. Since his
interests were the opposite of hers in this case, he said, "Let's go
over that rise... bring your pack... and mine too."
"Jeez," she
muttered, "I feel like one of those guys in old movies who has to dig
his own grave, or carry his coffin on his back."
They were over the rise. There was a level spot. He motioned to it, and she dropped the two packs to the side.
"No way I can talk you out of this?" she said once more.
"No, I'm afraid not."
At
once she dropped to the ground on her back, spread her legs, and pulled
her shorts and panties to one side, while she flung her other arm over
her eyes.
He grinned. There was the prize, the female slit, and
he knew what lay inside. He pulled his own shorts and underpants down
and over his boots. Some dirt got on his underpants. Oh, well.
His cock wasn't quite hard. He stroked it gently, but it didn't immediately rise.
She suddenly looked up. "Oh, you can't get it up! That will be a great way out of this..."
"Not so fast... I think you should strip, so I can look at your whole body."
She
sat up. "But... your chances of impregnating me are surely just the
same if you just stuck it in here," she said, pulling shorts and
panties aside once more.
"Maybe, but that's not my only motivation. I also want to enjoy the experience."
She sat for several seconds looking at him.
"Do it!" he said.
She reluctantly took off her T-shirt, revealing a gray sports bra. She pulled it up over her head and it dropped away.
They were lovely breasts, on the small side, but high, firm and symmetric.
"Boots too?" she asked.
"Nah,
you can keep your boots on." He knew how much of a pain it was to get
boots adjusted just right. Besides, it was kind of hot to do a naked
girl with hiking boots on. She pulled the shorts and panties off and
then sat, knees drawn up, arms around them.
He still wasn't
hard. "You ought to suck my cock," he said, walking right up to her. It
did make him a bit nervous, wondering if she would think his equipment
was deficient in some way.
"You bastard," she said, looking up at him.
He ought to punish her for that, but... "Just suck it," he said, momentarily making a fist.
She
got up on her knees and took his tip into her mouth. A lovely naked
girl kneeling in front of him, his cock in her mouth. He'd seen this in
porn films, but he'd never gotten it before. It was really nice! The
warm and wet had its intended effect. He figured this wasn't
enthusiastic head he was getting -- she wasn't looking up at him -- but
what the heck.
He'd only had sex once before, actually. When he was drunk, at that party...
Suddenly
she seemed more enthusiastic. She started bobbing up and down on his
hard shaft, flicking her tongue on his tip. It felt even better! But he
certainly didn't want to come in her mouth. That would rule out the
possibility of impregnating her, which was the bulk of the utility he
expected from this.
"Enough," he said, backing away. "On your back."
She
reluctantly lay back, legs spread wide. This time he could see her
breasts, her lovely torso, her lovely thighs spread wide, her neatly
trimmed landing strip of curly reddish brown hair, and there in the
middle, her pussy.
He knelt between her legs and tentatively
reached out with his fingers. He'd never seen this part of a woman
before -- he'd fumbled with it a bit that one time, but he hadn't
looked.
He spread her lips apart, and there her vagina was, just
like in the textbooks and the porn films. He slid his finger in -- and
it was pretty wet!
"Hey, you got wet for me! I guess you want it after all!"
"No!"
she said, looking up, then holding herself up a little with her elbows.
"Women get like that to avoid damage to their tissues, which can happen
if it's too dry. It's an unconscious thing."
"But if you didn't think you were going to have sex, that wouldn't happen."
"I do think I'm going to have sex -- I think you're going to rape me."
He
smiled. "Well, if your body reacts that way, then in our environment of
evolutionary adaptation, a lot of your ancestors got raped."
"Yeah,
probably they did," she said. "But this is the modern world. Where we
have morals and care about each other! At least most of us do..."
"Maybe,"
he said. "But you'll have to admit, I'm part of a long tradition here,
doing something that has a venerable history... OK, I'm ready to go in."
She sighed and leaned back, throwing her arm over her eyes again.
"No, I want your hands out to the sides, like you're surrendering."
"Pig," she murmured, but complied.
He
got his cock tip into position and kissed it against the warm wetness.
Having depressed her labia the slightest bit, he was now guilty of
rape. Whatever negative outcomes that could result were now a sunk
cost. Might as well enjoy himself -- and enjoy this girl. Enjoy
copulating with her.
"No, please..." she murmured, looking down where their genitals were touching but not yet engaged.
He
pushed in. It felt great. It went a lot more smoothly than it had with
that girl when he was drunk. It was hot and smooth and the friction
felt fantastic.
He pulled his cock out an inch and pushed it
back in, and as he repeated his stiff organ burrowed deeper and deeper.
Finally his whole length was inside the girl and the penetration was
stopped by their pubic bones bumping. "Aahhhh!" he said. He began a
vigorous in and out motion.
What a peak experience, as that old
saying went. Beautiful sunny day, field of flowers, lovely girl on her
back below him, arms out in surrender. He considered mentioning what a
significant bump in utility he was experiencing -- but decided that
saying so would not increase utility any further. And down below, they
were joined in that very specific way -- the way of sex, reproduction,
mating. He went on and on, because it felt so great.
"You could finish any time, right?" she said. "Future rewards discounted?"
"Nah,"
he said, though he liked her thinking. "The fucking feels so good, I'm
motivated to go on a good long time. Orgasm will be great, but coming
soon means less of the pleasure of just fucking in and out. Besides,
I'm wired to do this so it will push out any sperm that might be up
there from another man who had sex with you... Like your boyfriend just
before you left for your hike..."
It was just a fantasy, but the
way she looked up at him made him think maybe it was true. "Did you?
Did you have sex this morning?"
After a brief pause, she said, "He used a condom."
The
idea excited him. "Oooo! So you do have a boyfriend... And if you get
pregnant he'll think it was a condom failure... I'll bet you are
fertile, and don't believe in abortion... And I'll bet I'm stronger and
bigger and more handsome than him... Might be in your interest after
all! Man, this is so exciting!"
She didn't deny any of it. "I'm not going to have a baby. I don't want a baby!"
"Women
these days often postpone childbearing so long they don't have any
babies at all. So even if you don't want this consciously, it may be in
your long-term genetic self-interest."
She closed her eyes and sighed, hands still out to the side in surrender.
He
fucked away, and then noticed her biting her lip. Her eyes were closed
and she had an expression of concentration. Why would that be? Well, in
the porn movies...
He felt fantastic, and it sure looked like
she was sexually aroused, heading for an orgasm? Her pussy felt even
slicker and hotter and more inviting than when he'd first slid in.
He
pumped harder, grunting as he fucked away. He could feel himself
getting close, his cock hard as anything, pleasure building in his
loins.
He saw her scrunch her eyebrows, and then he felt her vagina clench around his cock as she shuddered.
"Oh,
baby, you're coming!" he said. "Your body wants it! Be right with you!"
He gave a few wild thrusts, but five seconds later jammed up to the
hilt and held still -- he could feel faint twitches in her vagina.
Spurt after spurt erupted from his cock into the deep end of her
vagina. The pleasure was indescribable. When his cock finally finished
unloading, he still held himself in deep. No extraneous fucking to push
his own seed out.
"I delivered my semen. A lot of it. Just what I'm designed to do... And it felt fantastic too. Maybe it will make you pregnant."
Now she flung an arm over her face.
His cock softened rapidly, and when it was good and soft he let it slide out, while the bulk of the semen stayed up inside.
"You had an orgasm too, and you have a chance of reproducing from this. Surely that is some positive utility."
The girl sat up and began dressing, starting with her panties and shorts. He didn't stop her.
"You never even asked my name," she said, her jerky movements showing her anger.
His utility was not increased by knowing her name -- or maybe it was. "What's your name?"
"Mary,"
she said. "Mary Sukeforth. From Fitchburg -- Fitchburg, Massachusetts.
It's my home town. So now you know who you raped."
John was silent.
"And what's your name?"
"It would hardly be in my interest to tell you that."
"Yeah,
I didn't think so. A prosecution would be a heavy dose of negative
utility for you. But it would be a pretty heavy dose for me too. I
suppose seeing you suffer would give me some utility. On the other
hand, you might not be convicted."
"I like your way of thinking," he said, smiling.
She
frowned. "I may experience great positive utility from doing my part to
protect other women from creeps like you -- and negative utility for
not doing so." Her sports bra was back in position.
"I don't believe you," he said.
"Asshole!" she said.
He shrugged sheepishly.
"But
you have my name. That's enough to track me down. So if there is a
baby, maybe you can look him up so he can know who his daddy is." She
pulled her T-shirt into position.
John smiled and nodded, thoughtful.
"Oh,
gross," she said, looking between her legs. "Well, I gotta go anyway."
She suddenly pulled her shorts and panties down and squatted. Pee burst
forth and onto the ground -- a fascinating sight he'd never been privy
to before. John could also see the milky secretions on her pussy lips.
She reached her finger up inside to pull more out.
"No, no!" he
said, reaching a hand out towards her. "Let it stay up there and only
come out naturally. Let nature take its course."
Still
squatting, she sighed, looking at him and shaking her head. "This stuff
that's leaked out is no use, right?" She took a blob from her lips onto
her finger. More oozed out.
She reached out and smeared it on
his right calf, leaving a mix of semen, girl sex juices, and a bit of
pee. He didn't complain. She repeated several times, slobbering some on
his left calf too.
"Can you get me some toilet paper? Top compartment on the left side?" Her pack was on the ground behind him, within easy reach.
He
liked the idea of doing that. Was it to be nice? No sentimentality! he
chided himself. But, the less she hated him, the greater the chances
she would not have an abortion. He fished it out and handed it to her.
She wiped herself, and for good measure wiped his calves too, then
stuck the wadded up paper into the center of the roll. Leave nothing
but footprints...
What was he still doing here? He'd had his encounter. He'd maximized his utility. Had he ever!
He slung his day pack on and said, "Hey, that was great, Mary. Thanks a lot."
"Fuck you," she muttered, as she rose and fiddled around with her pack.
"To
the extent there is a literal meaning to that, I'd say I just did."
Hmmm, that wasn't so good for minimizing the chances of her abortion --
but then it felt good to say it, so that was utility in itself. He was
hungry and his mouth watered at the thought of a roast beef sandwich --
or both of them. But he figured she at least deserved her full lunch.
More to the point, it was good to keep the mother of his baby healthy.
He did have his own lunch too, even if it was just peanut butter and
jelly.
She had her pack on now, and cinched the waist belt. She
turned to face him. "I'd spit on you, but you might punish me for
that." She settled for giving him the finger. She walked back to the
trail and he followed. She turned left and started walking at a brisk
pace.
He watched her go. She looked exactly the way she had less
than an hour before when he met her. Only one small thing was
different. Her vagina was teeming with his sperm. And that could make
all the difference in the world to his utility.
Should he do
this on a regular basis as opportunities presented themselves? Should
he go out of his way to make more opportunities?
Now that it was
all over, he couldn't help noticing this feeling of guilt inside him,
something vague -- but huge. Sentimentality! But this wouldn't be
wished away so easily. He suddenly wondered whether that guilt was
itself going to weigh heavily on his utility. Maybe it wouldn't be so
easy to make it disappear. He'd have to think about that. Oh well, live
and learn!
Mary. Mary Sukeforth of Fitchburg. He'd have to
remember that. Some day... maybe some day he'd look her up. He'd have
to consider the costs and benefits to that, think about the net utility.