Monday, November 28, 2011

Ohhh the fantasies in my head...

Mistress has been teasing me lately about getting me a 'boyfriend'.

*BLUSH*

The following is from my slave journal written after one particularly tortuous night of being teased & denied, kept on the edge of orgasm while she humiliated me with my own fantasies and burning ache to submit and be used..

I love the thought of it not being up to me at all. Having pictures taken, then put up online for you to write a profile for and go over all applicants—who know they are communicating with you, not me. Teased and humiliated and made to feel like a piece of meat, a fucktoy. I can just see the evil delight in you as you write the flirty profile, and go through the responses while I kneel helplessly at your feet.

Then the terror/humiliation if you actually *pick* someone. What if you don’t tell me anything about them at all? What if it’s a total surprise? It could be anyone…maybe even that dom gay male couple on collarme I see from time to time, or a dom cd, or some lecherous tranny chaser…

All I’m told is that I am to obey them, and I am to respond not only like a girl, but enthusiastically!

And then I’m totally feminized from head to toe, wig, makeup, some slutty outfit, and taken out…no choice in the matter, feeling very much like some sort of virgin sacrifice. I could be being taken to a gay bar, where I will have to have a few drinks and be ‘wooed'. I could be taken to some private home where I’ll be put in chains and fucked.

It could be anything…but all I can do is obey you, and whoever he or she is by extension.

I can see you there with me. Cropping me if I’m not enthusiastic enough. Ordering me to respond this way or that way—like spreading my legs back to be touched, or to use my tongue for a kiss.

And even more squirmy than this hot imagined scene? The idea that it might not be an isolated incident. That I might have to do my makeup and prepare myself for this person myself in the future.

That total surrender…ohhhhh….

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Happy Thanksgiving!

And in honor of Thanksgiving, an image of Mistress trussing me up like a turkey!

Just don't ask for any stuffing. :P


Sunday, November 20, 2011

Why am I Kinky? (follow-up)

Since writing and posting this I've been wondering about something else in my early childhood that may have helped make me kinky:

I have this memory of something on television involving a gang of girls holding another girl down and raping her with a coke bottle. I just have the briefest impression of it giving me happy tingles, imagining being held down and taken against my will.

For the life of me I have no idea what this was, or where it was from. Mistress has a memory of this also, and says it was some famous/infamous 'After-School Special'.

The closest thing I can find is a made-for-tv movie called "Born Innocent", starring Linda Blair, in 1974, wherein Linda's character is sent to some female detention center and she gets held down and raped with a plunger by several tough girls.

I'm not sure this is it. For one thing, I'm pretty sure it was a coke bottle or something in my memory, for another...in 1974 I would have only been 1 year old!!!

There's no way I could have watched that scene at that age and had sexual thoughts about it, good lord!

Does anyone else know what I'm talking about?

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Why am I kinky? Why 'forced fem'? (Part 3)

With the key components of my sexuality in place: that being pretty means positive female attention and love, and that if a woman goes to the trouble to feminize me and keep me prisoner that I am therefore desired and wanted, the rest of my perversions and fetishes start to fall into place as I get older.

At some point in my childhood I had a scrap of black fishnet that was an accessory to a 'Planet of the Apes' toy playset, and I remember absolutely loving the way it felt if I put it on my leg, the way it looked, the way it felt if I kissed it..

I joke about it, but I seriously think popular culture played a role.


Wonder Woman on TV wearing that outfit, tying up people with her golden lasso and forcing them to tell the truth.


Princess Ardala on Buck Rogers, all dominant and imperious, always trying to seduce Buck and make him her submissive consort. I even had an action figure of her that in later years my other action figures would kneel before and kiss her feet!


And of course, Slave Leia in that much beloved and drooled over outfit.












In Leia's case, it wasn't so much a desire to submit to her and be conquered by her (as it was for Ardala & Wonder Woman) it was more a desire to look like her, and be collared and chained and kept.


As I got older, I began to figure out some of these thoughts and fantasies. The discovery of porn magazines gave me a terminology and a frame of reference to figure out who I was, which I've written about before.

I'll just shamelessly steal from myself and quote here:

To me, it wasn't like I made a conscious decision in my head "Oh that sounds hot, I would like to try that someday". It was more of...an epiphany of sorts. A realization deep in my heart, soul, and loins that this is who I am. Feelings and urges inside of me for years before I had even picked up a porno magazine in my life--things that I didn't understand suddenly had names and identities. I was a submissive male. I was into BDSM. I needed to belong to a Mistress. I now had a vocabulary and a frame of reference for these feelings and needs.

From there things kind of progress organically in my sexual development. Childhood fades, the toys and action figures are put away and I'm now fantasizing about these porn letters I'm reading, and oogling girls in class.

Every Halloween was particularly torturous in a sweet kind of way, because inevitably girls at school would come dressed in some outfit involving black fishnets and I used to ache and feel my knees go weak and know deep down in my soul that if any of them had clued in on these feelings in me, and told me to get on my knees before them, I would have been unable to resist!

My kink interests and experience have grown over the years, but some of them just seem to have developed naturally from out of the primary forced feminization fetish. For instance, the interest in strap on dildoes and forced bi.

The interest in strap-on play develops as a natural continuation of the forced fem fetish. Because, after all, if being a kept feminized slave meant that I was unable to escape, how much greater the helplessness and enslavement is if I am forced to act and perform as a female as well. Its all a development and an escalation of the wanting to be kept prisoner (and therefore wanted, desired and secure) part of my psyche.

Forced bi? Also develops naturally, logically even from these same desires. If I am so owned now that my very sexuality is open to whatever my Mistress wishes, it reenforces those mental chains that bind me to her. There has to be that element of force involved, NOT because I need some sort of an 'excuse' to engage in homoerotic activity, but because my insecurity demands I feel wanted and needed and kept as a pretty prisoner and surrendering my sexuality is an extension of that very basic need.

That's why all of the endless back and forth discussion of 'how is forced fem or forced bi really forced' really pisses me off when I see it. Are any other fetishes second guessed and nitpicked this much?? If my fetish was all about being spanked, would I be nitpicked by people saying that, because I consented to and submitted to being spanked, that I wasn't REALLY surrendering control at all?

Its ALL consential activity, or supposed to be, no? And the activity in question--whether it be being dressed as a woman...or made to serve as a pony...or spanked...or whatever the activity happens to actually be that forms one's fetish need, that activity is really only the surface manifestation of the psychological need that particular fetish fulfills. So it doesn't really matter what the fetish actually is, its almost even a kind of side effect.

My needs are to feel wanted and loved and kept secure, your deep needs may be motivated by something else entirely, that other kinkster over there may have the same fetish but different psychological needs than you and I, or a different fetish driven by the same underlying need.

We're all different. Your mileage may vary.

So anyway...that's my kinky psyche as I have come to understand it. As I said in my first entry on this subject, what drives me may and probably is different than what drives you, but hopefully you've been able to relate a little.

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Why am I kinky? Why 'forced fem'? (Part 2)

Back to the psychological self-analysis..

I'm not blaming (for lack of a better word) my kinky and perverted nature entirely on my grandmother and my childhood appearance. I think we as people are shaped my the world and our experiences as a whole, and to suppose an immediate cause and effect (ie, my childhood blonde curly hair created my desire to be feminized & enslaved by a woman) is too simplistic and wrong. Its only when you put the pieces of a jigsaw together that they make sense--a piece on its own, isolated from the main picture means nothing.

A big key to my psychology as a whole, not just my kink side, is insecurity. I'm a tad neurotic. Even now, writing this, I feel a small bit of anxiety worrying over if some forum/internet troll will attack me, or, if I will have put all of this time and effort putting myself under the microscope for an interesting and educational piece and no one will read it or give a shit.

Insecurity, low-self esteem, prone to anxieties and depressions. I can coldly and clinically examine my psyche and diagnose myself point by point. Where all of it comes from? I have no idea...like I said previously, I was brought up in a very loving and supportive home. The only real problems in my world came when I was switched from a very sheltered private school where all my classmates were my friends to a rather brutal redneck public school where I suddenly became the nerdy new kid no one liked in the fifth grade. Perhaps all the negative traits stem from there, or perhaps some of it is genetic as mom is rather anxiety-driven as well. I don't know.

How insecurity applies to my kink life is that I feel it is the root need in my psychological profile that kink addresses and fulfills.

My mind had already made the equation that being beautiful equated positive female attention, affection and love. The black hole of being deeply insecure as a person meant that I constantly needed reassurance that I was wanted and desired and loved.

And around this time...before the switch from private to public school actually, I began having this dream.

It was a reoccurring dream, one that I had for several nights. Vivid enough that I remember it to this very day. In the dream, I was kidnapped by a whole gang of giggling girls and taken to this abandoned house. I was overpowered, stripped naked and had all my male clothes thrown away. Then I was dressed up and made up as a girl. This ensured my compliance with their wishes and made sure I would stay a prisoner, because the embarrassment factor of going out in public dressed as a girl meant I could never leave the house, so I was trapped there, forever in the dream.

Then the girls tied me to a chair (doubling down on this whole not letting me get away thing) and took turns kissing me. Just kissing, mind you. I had NO idea what sex was at this age. But the dream made me feel so...tingly. Happy.

This same dream repeated itself several times...and then, several weeks later--almost as if I predicted it--a high school girl on the bus, fed up with my brattyness and smartass remarks threatened to put lipstick on me at the bus stop.

Of course I made a big show of going ohhhhh noooo and running from her as if my life depended on it, but inside a sick sweet thrill was had at the thought of her actually doing it. Of her holding me down helpless and applying lipstick. Outside, I was all "Don't you even!" but inside I was going ohhh yessss please....

The machinery in my head whirred and clicked and came up with the next huge building block in my developing sexuality, really the key to everything that makes me tick as a submissive is that: if a woman goes to all of that trouble to make me her prisoner, to feminize me and put me in bondage to make sure that I cannot escape then she must REALLY REALLY *WANT* me.

This is key, I think. Its *not* about the clothes in and of themselves. Its why I have no desire to dress on my own, and why I do not identify myself as 'trans' anything. Its all about HER. The woman in my fantasies who wants to keep me as her slave, wrapped her little finger forever and ever. It makes me feel sexy, wanted, desired. Deliciously trapped as her pretty pet.

And if I am wanted and desired to that extreme...I have nothing to be insecure about.

More to come...

Sunday, November 6, 2011

Why am I kinky? Why 'forced fem'? (Part 1)

Over the years I've spent a good deal of time wondering about why I'm kinky, and why certain things just have always triggered me. The psychology of my own perversions, really. And I'm pretty sure I've figured out the answers, or, at least I'm close.

One big caveat I must make up front in this post is that the observations and generalizations that I make are applicable only to myself. It would be a mistake to apply the same motivations to everyone, even those submissives that share my fetishes and tastes.

Just like its a mistake for those outside of the lifestyle to apply big overreaching explanations to us all. You've heard it all before: Foot fetishists are caused by a parent or sibling stepping on them accidentally as a child, or all crossdressers into forced bi are really just closeted gay men who need an excuse to indulge in what they really want to do. You've seen all kinds of half-baked generalizations like that before I'm sure, both made by people outside the lifestyle as well as (sadly) like-minded armchair psychologists in the lifestyle itself.

I know what applies to me does not apply to everyone. Your own mileage may vary.

So...why am I kinky? It all goes back to childhood, but not back to any life-changing trauma, or abuse, or issues with my parents of any kind of pat easy answer like that. I grew up in a very warm and loving home, with wonderful parents who doted on me. I'm 38 now, so I'm old enough to be part of a generation (perhaps the last generation?) that was raised in a world where it was OK for parents and school officials to 'not spare the rod' and so I received my own fair share of paddlings, even smackings with a belt.

But as I do not have a fetish for any of the corporeal punishment stuff, it seems to have not have had an affect on me at all. As a child, it happened rarely. As a kinky adult, while an over-the-knee spanking does have its appeal I am not a painslut by any means. Instead, I view the application of pain as more of a part of the 'job description' of being a submissive or slave than something I actually actively want or beg for.

I was a beautiful, rather androgynous child the first few years of my life. (Yeah, I know, what happened, right? :P ) My hair was blonde and curly, my features were soft. Looking at old photos of myself pre-kindergarten, you really can't tell gender at all. And oh boy, I got all sorts of approving attention from adult women in those days for it. Touching my hair, saying all sorts of nice things to me, making a fuss. This female approval and attention cannot have NOT had an affect on me.

It also didn't help that during this period in the 70's my grandmother had taken it upon herself to make clothing for me. I don't know if it was for economical reasons or just a hobby, but the end result was a lot of unisex outfits that of course I had to wear. Horrible little unisex pantsuit/jumper things. Which I do NOT have a fetish for, thank you very much. But I think it definitely played a role in how my developing mind saw gender identity. To my young mind, there really was no difference between boys and girls other than girls were prettier and boys enjoyed sports and roughhousing more.

Eventually my features developed more, my hair darkened, my father's genes took hold I guess and the 'beautiful' days were behind me. Which wasn't a disappointment to me at the time: I hated my curls, and I was embarrassed at all the feminine attention. The 'girls have cooties' period in life had begun.

But deep in my subconscious the equation of being beautiful = positive female approval, attention and love had been made.

More to come.