The Forbidden Fantasy of Being Forced

I am proudly genderqueer, entirely comfortable with my pansexuality, and what I like to call 'naturally' submissive. There may be a lot I haven't done in life sexually, but there's not a lot I wouldn't try, given the opportunity. With no social or religious hangups to restrain me, I am as open to the idea of pleasure, in all its forms, as a human being can possibly be.

Despite that, I still find a great deal of pleasure in stories of forced sexual acts and reluctant participants. 

Forced feminization has always been a major fantasy for me, dating back to the days when a painted baby toenail on each foot and slightly longer hair were as 'out' as I was comfortable being with my gender diversity. Similarly, fantasies of being pegged by a woman (usually an older woman) with a strap-on dildo, and of being forced to suck a man's cock (usually after being forcibly feminized) were always a guilty pleasure. After I started dating, those fantasies got even stronger, and when I discovered the concept of cuckolding . . . well, the fantasy suddenly included being forced to eat a man's cum from my date's pussy, after she forcibly feminized me, and before she pegged me at one end while she forced me to suck his cock at the other.

I voluntarily (and publicly) feminize myself every day, yet I still crave the fantasy of forced feminization. I absolutely love anal play, and will gladly do the deed to myself (a plus-sized harness fits a dining room chair very well), but I still dream about being pegged against my will. At this point in my life I've probably had as many boyfriends as girlfriends, and yet I still get all tingly when I think of being ambushed at the gym and forced to deepthroat the guys in the shower. And, as odd as it may sound to some people, I am completely fascinated by the taste/texture/smell/feel of cum, but the fantasy of being forced to eat it remains as powerful today as it was so many years ago.


So why is it I still find so much pleasure in the fantasy of being forced?

If you're expecting some mind-blowing revelation, or clinical diagnosis, then I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed. The fact of the matter is, I don't know . . . and I'm not sure I really care to know. It may have something to do with being naturally submissive, or it may have something to do with some lingering subconscious taboo of my youth.

I suspect it has something to do with the removal of responsibility, the denial of accountability. With the illusion of choice taken away, any sense of guilt, shame, or even embarrassment goes with it. Even when you're willing (hungry even) for the fantasy, being forced to endure it is like being granted permission to enjoy it. Then again, for all I know, it may simply be a fetish on its own, and being forced to clap my hands and turn in a circle may be just as arousing as being forced to clean out a date's used condoms.

As I've been looking over my old fiction, pulling some favourites together to publish a collection, it struck me just how much of my fiction deals with themes of being forced. Lately, my work has focused more on themes of being a slut, of being openly promiscuous and perverse, but the appeal of being forced is definitely still there.

I want to be forced - could there possibly be a more exciting contradiction?


♂↔♀