For submissive crossdressers or men who enjoy “forced feminization,” there’s a difficult road ahead. Why are so many dominant women put off by forced femme, or men who enjoy being feminized? Why do so many dominant women list it as a hard limit, leaving sissyboys with nowhere to turn but pros?
Here’s one woman’s POV, for those that wish to endure it.
I’ll start by explaining how my sexuality and S&m tendencies were shaped around feminization and androgyny, and how sadistic desires could actually be developed.
You are probably wondering, “You mean, there are women out there who actually GET OFF on things like forced feminization and cross-dressing?”
Once you read my story, it will become very clear how this happens. But the more important lesson is this: How can a submissive into these kinds of fetishes properly attract a dominant woman and entice her to engage in it?
**
The year was 1982. For this femdom, my sexuality was just barely a flicker (I was 14). In fact, I won’t even call it sexuality; my sensual side was developing as a teenager, and my fascination with bondage was already at the forefront. There was nothing sexual going on, not even in my head; I was totally virginal.
At 14 and 15 years old, I was happily engaging in light, flirtatious games with handcuffs and blindfolds. But none of it was overtly sexual in nature; I was quite innocent, and determined to stay that way for many years. But teenagers play games like “spin the bottle” and “truth or dare,” and all my flirtatious games centered around somehow getting the guys in the room to be tied up. Always.
Highly impressionable already, and like most girls, totally under the influence of music and pop culture, my sensuality was completely shaped by what was define as “new romantic” music. Just look at any picture of bands like “Adam and the Ants,” and what will you see? Men in lipstick, eyeliner and flaunting their androgyny. Like many teenage girls, this is what absolutely shaped my ideal of “perfect man.”
(Go ahead. Look on Youtube for the video of the 1982 song, “Prince Charming” by Adam and the Ants. And watch at least until Adam is turned into a “prince,” about 1:30 into it. This was my ideal “prince charming,” masculine on the outside, but ultimately embracing beauty in all things feminine. Me and thousands of other young teenager girls. This was our “Bieber.”)
My first kisses were with guys who wore lip gloss. This is true. In fact, the first time I kissed a “jock,” it felt oddly foreign to me. I wasn’t bi-sexual or bi-curious, but I went for guys who looked more like girls. Lots of young women my age were doing the same thing. Men who were absolutely embracing cross-dressing, makeup and androgyny were extremely popular.
So what happened?
Well, I wanted all my guys to wear eyeliner and lip-gloss. Even if they didn’t want to. And those first moments where I told my straight, square, conservative, non-new-romantic boyfriend to go along with what I wanted, he resisted. He didn’t want to wear lipstick. He didn’t want to wear fishnet stockings (oh, did I mention, “Rocky Horror Picture Show” as another big influence?)
As a budding sadist, those first tender moments of honest, vulnerable male resistance were like crack cocaine. The innocent, pleading eyes. The fear of what it would turn him into. Just innocent teenagers, a boy could be easily persuaded to go along with something if it meant more kissing, or, simply, to make me happy. What boy didn’t want to be desired?
I often tied guys up and then brought out the lipgloss and eyeliner. I played games where I rigged the rules so they would lose bets and have to wear the stockings I had stashed in my purse. I remember sitting in High School pep rallies, squealing in delight as football players and other jocks were forced to dress up as girls as part of initiations or light hazings. Nothing excited me more (well, except for the blindfolded pie eating contests, but that’s just because blindfolds and bondage ranked even higher than f/fem on my evolving fetish list).
My later teenager years saw my sexuality shaped by erotically suggestive moments in two distinct groups: The totally new-romantic androgynous “pretty boy,” and the conservative bookworm and/or jock who only endured things like eyeliner or lipgloss behind closed doors. For me. And to endure these things made him feel shy, vulnerable, objectified. I was infatuated with one thing: Surrender.
I don’t know how men develop “fetishes.” And I can’t point to any one instance in my youth where I had an “orgasm” in the moment of exploring a “fetish” and then it became part of my sexual programming forever. Hell, I didn’t even have an orgasm until years later. But as a teenager, virginal, those moments of exploring sensuality with a boy my age who endured light bondage, a little roleplay, and – yes – lipstick and stockings – I can say these moments shaped my desire for vulnerability. The fact that he did it behind closed doors, only for me, made it mind-blowing. Perhaps it’s true; perhaps buried deep in all the fetish and feminization experimentation, there was just enough rubbing, petting, body-heating suggestive moments that my brain became programmed to associate those moments of male surrender with deep, intense, undeniable rushes of erotic pleasure. Or, maybe, it was just “a hell of a lot of fun.” I didn’t know what “a turn on” was – I was virginal. I just knew what was exciting. Better than a rollercoaster. It made me high and feel good all over. Or was I just discovering what was already there?
I absolutely got off on how completely objectifying it was, and somewhere, deep in the back of my mind, it was even more exciting because I knew he was getting aroused despite himself. Bingo.
**
In my later teens and up through college, with music and fashion still shaping my sexual desires for men, I briefly dabbled in the “goth” scene (also full of men who embraced crossdressing, makeup and androgyny), but ultimately found a home among the rivetheads.
By the time I was listening to industrial music and going to industrial dance clubs (fans of industrial music and fashion were often labeled “rivetheads”), I was deep into S&M and fully exploring my sexuality. But I still had not given up on my lust for androgynous men, and despite being a harsher crowd to some degree, the industrial music “scene” still had plenty of men wearing eyeliner, stockings, and lipstick. Only the lipstick was black, and the stockings were worn with heavy combat boots.
Well into my late teens and early 20s, I was mostly engaging in S&M with boyfriends and lovers I met through these social circles or through college, and the college boys I delighted in dragging to these kinds of clubs and watching them try to conform in private (to please me), despite an obvious discomfort with some of the fashion. Again, that was always behind closed doors, but I made sure to embarrass them nonetheless with threats of taking them out in public!
I wore tight latex and PVC almost exclusively went I went out dancing, and it attracted the men who were kink-minded or weak in the knees from a woman in boots, gloves and dressed like catwoman-meets-rivethead. I had plenty of prey available, and despite dating and romancing primarily younger men from the clubs, I had my fair share of conservative men that I had to lure into the dark side.
Masculine men who are uncomfortable about appearing vulnerable make for very exciting feminization prey. I was totally intoxicated by the willingness of a man to explore androgyny (behind closed doors), and the inevitable embarrassment when the androgyny aroused him, despite his best efforts. It immediately put me in a position of power, because he was lost and not in control of his own sexual reactions. And, plus, I found androgyny to be incredibly sexy.
That’s when I learned that a pair of women’s panties was the ultimate tool for making a man squirm. Of course, at the same time, in my bondage exploits, I was learning that a pair of panties was also the most devious and effective impromptu gag, or could be used in a variety of tortures related to teasing and denial. But that’s a story for another article.
**
By the time I was in my mid-20s and early 30s, I was meeting plenty of self-proclaimed forced feminization enthusiasts, but truth be told, there wasn’t much “forced” about it. And it’s by no fault of their own. After all, how could they possibly know what a woman gets out of this act?
And for me, at least, this kind of dominance is very personal, as it’s wired right into my sensual dominant side. I had it “my way” for more than a decade. My earliest explorations with men – when they were honestly, truly vulnerable to me for the first time – are laced with imagery around the way a man’s lips feel in lipgloss, the way stockings feel against firm, toned legs, and how a man shivers with the combination of humiliation and arousal when he’s put into a feminine package that results in him having absolutely no comfort zone – while, at the same time, horrifyingly arousing! What’s not to love?
I can sum it up by saying that when a man approaches me with any fetish, if he does so from a position of self-indulgence, he’s already lost me. It can be a foot fetishist, a cross dresser, or a man who enjoys bondage (clearly, my absolutely favorite fetish, by miles). My lust for any act – whether it be bondage or making a man wear lipstick – comes from the bending of his will. Not me accommodating an existing fetish. A man with a fetish can do well by understanding the motivations of the predator before presenting himself as prey. In fact, a man who fully understands a fetish from both sides (his and hers) is much more equipped to satisfy her than a man who is in the dark! But he must temper his urges with patience, and this is where many men fail. Again, this applies to all fetishes, not just forced feminization.
There are many men that aren’t into being “forced,” but are saddened that more women are not attracted to feminized men, or crossdressers. For these men, I strongly urge them to consider women like me (who “grew up” – sensually and sexually – lusting for androgynous men and men in makeup, for example) – and the amount of pop culture that embraces and “sensualizes” men who cross the line and do so with enthusiasm. If you are seriously interested in being appreciated for being feminine, then work at it, and do a good job at it. Grooming, hygiene and an attempt at fitness are imperative. Make your body look good in lingerie, and wear makeup that accents your features. Go so far as getting training and assistance to accomplish these goals.
For men that in a bit of “feminization purgatory” – half into being “forced,” wanting to be “humiliated” yet wearing panties daily (on their own), wearing lingerie or makeup that is intended to be embarrassing and not beautifying – consider the mixed messages you are sending your potential partners and your own subconscious. My recommendation is to pick an identity and embrace is. Either explore and perfect androgyny until you find your innermost gorgeous feminine side, or allow your femdom partner to strip away your masculinity on her terms and in her timing, feeding her predatory desire to trap you in vulnerability and objectification.
And never, never wear panties on a first date. Unless ordered to.
