Posts made by i am insane

For a time, I let her cry. Partly out of simple enjoyment, to be sure. Miranda being naked was still new to me, must less her in lingerie, and there was some sort of kinky pleasure I took in watching her, trapped in her little cage. But that was more a bonus for me than anything. The point of it was the despair.

So, happily enough, I let her marinate in her helplessness, and how far she had fallen.

Then I let her out.

Miranda’s tears cut off with a yelp as my hand approached her cage, and she backpettled frantically, as if hiding in an empty cage would protect her. She stilled, though, as I released the clasp and swung the door open invitingly. I waited, but she she didn’t move beyond fixing me with a suspicious stare.

“You’re free to go.” I said. “No tricks.”

Reaching back into the box, I pulled out her dress once again and laid it out on the table as she stared.

“Don’t you want this?” I teased. “Cloothes, Miranda. You like clothes.”

Cautiously, she ventured from the cage, never dropping eye contact with me as she took each tremulous step, until she reached the dress.

Bending over, and giving me a view of her back I had to force myself to not experence with touch as well as sight, Miranda picked up the small bundle of fabric. For a second, she closed her eyes and hugged it to herself. Then she looked to where I patiently waited.

“Well?” She asked. “Now what?”"

I smiled. “Now we play, Miranda. A simple game of choice, a brief series of binary questions. Or, you could leave the table right now, I guess.”

I shrugged. “I wouldn’t advise that, not if you ever want to see your friends again, but you could.”

She puffed herself up with righteous fury, but I cut in before she could go anywhere with it. “Oh, they’re fine. They’ll continue to be fine, even. But you will never see them again Miranda. Not until you play my little game.”

She bit back the first thing she wanted to say. Then the second, and the third, and quite possibly the fourth, before she found something she thought diplomatic enough to say.

“Fine, Ian. So how do we play?”

“I’ve already told you the how, Miranda: answer my questions. Pick Choice A or Choice B, no third answers, no refusal to choose. What you should be more interested in are the stakes.”

I leaned in eagerly, driving her back a step in response.

“I’m sure you remember what situation you were in just a minute ago. Well, unfortunately, your friends are in the exact same situation: locked away, no clothes, nothing to do, only Min Chow to eat. You can help them, Miranda… but it’ll cost you. Because right now? Right now, there’s only one set of freedoms in this house, and you have all of them. If you want their lot to improve? You have to worsen yours.”

My smile widened as she shook her head slowly.

“The name of the game is Sacrifice, Miranda. To give something up to receive something else in return. I made this because I’m curious: will you give up your comforts for theirs? How much do they mean to you?”

I leaned back as her wordless denials grew more frantic.

“Let’s find out: first question, Miranda. Who lives in a cage? Is it you, or them?”

At last she found her voice. “I… I can’t make that choice, Ian. I just can’t.”

I wagged a finger lecturingly. “Ah, you see, I thought you’d say that. So let’s make things clear: if you don’t choose, none of you get that freedom. It vanishes into the wind, lost forever. Either one of you lives in a cage, Miranda, or you all do.”

There was a beat of silence as it sank in. Then, “Them!” she shouted frantically. “Them! I’m not going back in there! I’m can’t handle it I-”

Then she gasped, and held her hand to her mouth as if trying to stop herself from saying anything else, but she didn’t try to take it back, either.

“Very well then, Miranda,” I said, trying to look and sound as soothing as possible. “No more cage for you.”

Unless I wanted to, of course. There was clearly some kind of trauma there, either from actually being in a cage or how she had walked herself inside it, and it wasn’t something I was above using.

She sagged in relief at my confirmation, and I let her have that brief moment to calm herself before I continued. At that moment, she looked indescribably pathetic in a way I couldn’t place: a lingerie clad woman, kneeling in helpless joy on a table that dwarfed her, hands clasped tightly around a dress so small it barely covered her.

“Thank you, Ian.” She whispered fervently. “Thank you.”

“Who eats Min Chow?” I asked in response, ruthlessly shattering her calm.

She stiffened at my words, and let out a silent gasp, but didn’t hesitate in answering. “They do, Ian.”

I nodded. “Who wears only underwear and heels?”

I had put this question after the other two for a reason: guilt. I couldn’t see her allowing herself to return to the cage or the Chow, but she had probably grown used to nudity at this point. After denying them twice, the guilt could be enough for her to accept that return. I was fine with the answer either way, really, I’d get my eyefulls of her no matter what, but seeing her struggle over the question so furiously was delightful.
Miranda hesitated again, and this time I didn’t interrupt, not wanting to taint her choice.

“I… I…” She began, before trailing off. She gulped and gathered her courage. “I do. I only wear my underwear.”

I couldn’t help licking my lips as she said it, and Miranda stirred uneasily at the sight. Even more so as I reached out and pinched the dress she still held in her hands. For an instant, she tried to fight me, to keep her hold on it, before surrendering it to my pull.

I didn’t move the fabric away immediately, instead letting her gaze at it with helpless desire a few moments more before returning it to the box a second time.

That, at least, would be returned to her in time, no matter what she thought about it. I had so much fun dressing her once that there was no way I would deny myself that pleasure in the future, both with more interesting outfits and a far more literal take on the phrase ‘dressing’.

“As for the last… I’ll admit that’s something I didn’t think through. There’s a pile of everything needed to make the Min House livable right in front of the very house they’re trapped in, yet I have nothing to add to the cage you’re not even using. I could leave it as an easy choice, but this is supposed to be a punishment…”

I mused on the problem briefly. “How about this? Either I subject you to some as yet undefined indignity in the future, or the others continue to live in their little house with nothing but some sheets. Seems fair to me.”

“‘Fair’, huh?” Miranda snorted bitterly. “Sure, that makes sense. You know what? Fine. Fine!”

She lifted her arms into the air, as if she was making it easier to grab her. “Do what you want to me; you’re going to anyways! I might as well give them something out of it.”

When I didn’t move, they fell back to her sides and she sighed.

“And besides, that makes two for them and two for me. Sounds pretty fair, doesn’t it?”

I’ll admit, I feel a bit rusty, and this chapter feels a tad off, but we’re back.

@Kisupure
Huh. The thing is that while I like the ‘classic’ tropes, as you put it, I’m honestly surprisingly open as long as the prey is a woman.

I’ve said it before, but I’m not attracted to men, but I’m generally fine with them as part of a sexual scenario… unless it’s one of those giants that deliberately makes them look ugly. It’s weirdly a turn off for me when I’m honestly fine with like, flat out monsters… which in itself is not surprising, really, considering dragons got me into this, and I have this vivid memory of dragon having sorta sex with a woman in a short story when I was younger.

For me that, for me, that there’s three things I want in a vore situation: an attractive woman as the prey, a size difference between prey and predator, and someone to be enjoying it. I’ve seen pictures with (insert animal here) eating SWs, and that did nothing for me, but there’s a fic someone on e-hentai where a frog is given a SW to rape (for it’s… sexual needs?) and that one was great for me despite how dumb the plot was. I’ve dabbled in tentacle sex, and I can even enjoy Transformers porn, as long as it hits the right points for me (though those weren’t vore fics). That’s not even including the cock vore pics I’m seen on Eka’s and the like.

The pleasure, I think, is the most important part. A woman enjoying getting eaten, or someone enjoying eating a woman, is what turns it into a sexual thing for me, rather just someone getting eaten.

@Jitensha

I think, for me, there’s two parts to it: there’s the physical, the usual parts of vore. A soft, warm body in my mouth, squirming, but better than before because it’s willing, because she’s rubbing up against me just as much as I’m trying to taste and tease her.

At the same time, though, there’s also the psychological, the fact that she’s not only willing to do it, willing to give herself, willing to become food, but wants it, maybe even more than I do… because in all honesty I’m probably too soft for my own good. The idea that someone wants to end, to be subsumed, by me, because of me, to want it so much that it excites them thrills me.

There’s something that’s both inherently dehumanizing, to reduce someone to food, but also intimate about vore, and it only becomes more so when both sides are the ones interested. You can be friends or lovers for years, you can both enjoy the process and make it an even better experience, but once you eat them they’re gone, and you’re the one who did it. There’s some sort of extra, almost unholy spice that kind of act adds to the proceedings.

I like to picture a sushi platter, but with SWs instead. Each one of them dressed in a little seaweed outfit, each one posing cheerfully. More than that, they’re enjoying it, and each other, and there’s even a few bathing in the dish of soy sauce.

Bliss.

So, I’m commenting again because I’m rereading Beastars. Long story short, it’s a manga about a world of humanized animals, and balancing ‘normal’ people problems with issues around their animalistic instincts.

I’m bringing this up because one of the big struggles in the story is the main character, a grey wolf, which is one of the largest predators in the setting, complicated relationship with a small dwarf rabbit, who is… obviously very small. No the smallest, there’s also hamsters, but he can literally pick her up one handed. It starts off by the wolf struggling against his urge to eat her, but I just reached the point where she fights against her instinct to get eaten, as she literally shoves herself into his mouth.

As an aside, that doesn’t really make sense from a logic standpoint as an ‘animal’ instinct, so much as a thematic perspective, but… the idea of woman wanting to get eaten isn’t something I ever think about, for whatever reason. What are everyone’s thoughts on that dynamic? Because fuck, does that idea turn me on.

As in all things SW, I am of a duality: intellectually, I like the idea of an absurd size difference. Like, people the size of specks difference. The idea of tiny little women milling about helplessly around me, struggling to survive the calamity of my existence, is great. Imagine them mired in food or stuck in syrup and sauce, so small that even running doesn’t get them off my spoon, if they could run, if they even both to try and flee, speaks to me, it really does.

But at the same time, I’m a big interaction fan, and I like a woman I can actually interact with beyond obliterating. I like the idea of tasting, of playing with them, of making them come in my mouth, trapped in the dark surrounded by teeth. There’s also a part of me that likes betrayal, that we’re playing around, having some nice time with licking maybe, then it goes farther than she wanted. The uncertainty. The confusion, the fear. The demands turning into pleading, tears in her eyes…

In all honesty, I wouldn’t do it, with the interactable ones at least. But sweet fuck, I’d like to play with the idea in real life, no matter what the SW actually thinks about the matter.

@subasubaski
You know, I’ve noticed some Gulliver travels styled fic, but ones where all of them live in the same world and not separated by magic or whatever, and it always irked me that all three shared a tech level, just… in different locations. And somehow this works. Noth even mentioning wildlife and foliage?

“Realistically”, there’s no way the various size classes could live in harmony needed for such development to happen. People are assholes; the biggest, whether the Brob or some higher one, would inevitably dominate the others, treat them as lessers, and the Lilis, or any smaller ones, would inevitably be the prey of frogs, bugs and the like, unable to establish any advanced civilization due to accidentally being trampled by their betters, or pass down information and technology beyond basic, word of mouth communication due to the fragility of their works (we got to where we are through passing on information throughout generations, via writing and technology; centuries or millennia of investment were needed to get to where we are now. Imagine, then if for all intents and purposes malevolent meteors could just… reset a city in an instant? Where giant monsters could devour everything? Cities that could be not just part of a society, but the society itself? There’s no way that they could reach a technology level anywhere near modern civilization. That’d be the world inch tall people would live in). I mean, fuck, even the ecology: either everything is sized to the giant’s size, and so why aren’t they the normal size, or the giants exist, for all intents and purposes, above the food chain, have little need to invent technology because there’s no real threat to them, and probably don’t even eat like normal living creatures since there’s no way to support themselves ‘naturally’ (what do they eat?! Whales?!) like normal mammals.

…I know I got somewhat off topic but this is something I’ve been thinking about for awhile now.

On a personal level, I just have this bone deep desire to hold an SW like a teddy bear and just… rest. It’s something I’ve been trying to figure out how to make a story about, almost; a giant or something rescuing a woman just so he can sleep better at night, or a man who buys an SW for something closer to an experience with an affectionate cat rather than a sex toy that they’re usually for, while her attitude goes from ‘WhatthefuckwhatthefuckI’mgoingtodie’ to ‘Welp, better than where I was before’ to actually bonding with them.

Just imagining a little arm full of a thing curled up against my chest, all soft and warm, maybe making a cute little noise when I move unexpectedly before snuggling back in is just… bliss.

What are you thoughts on it? Because I’ve realized that, if I was to have an SW in any form, I’d spend a lot of time, and I mean a lot, just… cuddling. Nothing sexual, just holding them just to hold something soft and warm and because I like holding them, and they like being held as well.

I’m thinking about this because that appeals to me a lot, but it’s not something that seems to come up? There are mentions of it in stories, but more as logical extensions of X action or whatnot, and no one ever really… talks about in discussions, and we talk about everything from size hierarchies to vore here.

@olo
I mean, I get that, but look at him. He looks like he’s three seconds from running away screaming. It’s honestly hilarious.

I think the weirdest part of this is the, ‘WTF’ energy the guy has going on. He either doesn’t believe her, wants no part of her craziness, no part of her probable drunkness, or all of the above.

I’m playing a dumb game with my friend yesterday, and a character drops this line on us: he’s not wearing sunglasses, no! He shouts proudly that he’s wearing a black fairy bra.

Along with my instant incredulous reaction, there was also the thought that he was One Of Us, and I should mention it here for everyone else to WTF over and enjoy.

So… if sunglasses are a tiny bra being abused by being stretched over someone’s face, are there any other common accessories that we can figure out are actually from an SW?

@tiny-ivy
A lot of that, and I say this literally, just goes back to society as a whole. A person, right now more than ever it seems, but probably throughout all of modern history, is seen by the eyes of society as only being worth what they’re worth. If you’re not making money, if you don’t have money, if there’s nothing influential like that about you, to the human race as a whole you’re almost worthless.

And for a lot of people, to face the brutal reality of human indifference is a struggle, but with friends and hobbies and interests it’s manageable, to a degree. But, when you’re not allowed self worth, or really a ‘self’, as a man or a woman, you turn to societal worth instead to have a reason to live. For men, that is ‘succeeding’, making the bank, along with the other ‘masculine’ concepts that you’re supposed to follow like being athletic, or tough, or getting chicks or whatever. I think it honestly explains the stereotypical jock: because they succeed at their role, they double down on it and keep going with it for the praise they’re receiving for it, and with all the time they spend being ‘men’ they don’t get as much chance to develop their self like someone who isn’t as lockstep with a stereotype. So they keep doubling down, keep acting out in the same way society tells them they should act (brutally honest here: the reason there’s so many ‘boys will be boys’ moments is we keep telling boys that that’s how boys act) until they reach a point where they built their lives around that role they’ve been acting, and it’s all that they have: the jock, the tough guy, the businessman.

To bring this (ha) temporarily back to the topic of fetishes for a moment, I think that the ‘shirt’ metaphor is why so much giantess stories are kind of dumpster fires. So many go off two main concepts: men losing their rights, or a normal woman who gains power and instantly, and for no apparent reason, just starts killing everything and everyone just because she can now, in whatever ways the author finds sexy. I think… for a lot of guys, that being ‘forcefully’ depowered like that is like getting that shirt taken off, and it’s the only relief from the roles they can find, and allow themselves to find.

(Personally, it makes my skin crawl; in theory I could like GTS content. In practice I find it largely abohorant, even if the pics themselves can be great in isolation (those legs! Those heels! And oh, do I envy the raw power they have in those pictures, that ability to just step on a city, I really do (and there’s so many good ones because they have so many more artists making them, sigh)) which is ironic since when I was a whelp still figuring out the fetish, I mixed them both, but the reality of it, how so much of it seems to focus on what is probably self-hatred of men, much less losing what remains of our agency in a rapidly evolving society that seems to loath people having any real control over their own lives in the first place, has driven me off it almost completely. Seriously, I have enough problems without getting into that. These days I mostly trawl through GTS stuff looking for more SW content that isn’t actually under an SW label.)

It’s interesting you say that, though, because looking at a female from the male perspective, while you’re allowed to be more a person than we are, even if we’re collared robots it seems like we can do more with what limited personhood we have. If we men are wearing collars, and slowly killing ourselves with them, it seems like women are have their ankles chained.

@kisupure said in Sex Objects:

it was actually really surprising and kind of scary how much subconscious social male programming I’d absorbed

Yeah. A lot of the reasons people act like they act, men and women alike, is because that’s how they’re told to act, and that comes from both directions. Moms will tell their sons they have to be tough, that their sisters are too weak to do something physically demanding, just as much as fathers do. A girl can attack a boy and that’s almost amusing, but a boy can’t realiate without being a brute, because they’re strong and girls are weak and they must be protected, even from the consequences of their own actions. It’s frustrating and amusing, almost, that there are so many women who tell boys to be sexist, or distant as a child, and then are startled and horrified that boys grow up to be distant sexists.

@tiny-ivy
Not really? To agree with what everyone is saying, basically, what I’m saying masculinity, as discussed in the world now, is almost always inherently toxic because there is no other example. The same factors that help inform the dehumanizing view of men in porn, the lack of expressions, or focus on anything that isn’t a dick, ties back to how men, culturally, are still viewed: tough. Or rather, ‘tough’.

You can’t show weakness, you can’t be vulnerable, you can’t feel, so you can enjoy sex, because a man is supposed to want to have sex, but not to extent that you show that you enjoy it! It’s messed up, obviously, but honestly the idea that it shouldn’t be a common phrase is bizarre to me because… well, it’s real. It’s common. It’s how I, and probably every other man to some extent, has been raised, even if there is a some focus on fighting the perception of that is how a man should be now compared to how it used to be.

Talking about this, I’m remembering a short story I read as a kid: a samurai where going up a mountain to get something from a snow spirit, and to impress her, they were standing there, enduring the elements to show how manly they were. They do this until they get coated in ice and die, turning into a statue of ice, and the spirit wanders by the newest statue of dozens, musing how stupid they all are that they just try to become like ice.

The ‘ideal’ man, in a nutshell, is a Terminator (It can’t be bargained with. It can’t be reasoned with. It doesn’t feel pity, or remorse, or fear. And it absolutely will not stop, ever) programmed to act like a person with the core directives of memetic Darwin to drive them: ‘EAT FIGHT FUCK’.

@kisupure said in Sex Objects:

feeling shame for being a sexual being,

That is something that honestly bothers me a lot about my enjoyment of the SW fetish, because so much of it revolves around, well, hurting or depowering women. It’s… not a good look, these days, and even if I had a mind to talk about that kind of thing (laughs forever at the idea of doing that) the reception that this would have alone would be enough to scare me off it.

@kisupure
Huh. I think, on a fundamental level, I’m not really attached to my body as ‘my’ body, if that makes sense. I’ve got a bunch of medical shit happening to me since I was a kid, and it’s easy for me to think of my body as separate from me, and in general not much of it really.

@kisupure
Pretty much?

Like… how do I put this, there’s two kinds of attractiveness, I guess. There’s the sexual kind, where some part of your brain says ‘I want to fuck that’, and then there’s the aesthetic kind, which is when you you admire that something is just… built right.

And when it comes to men, those two concept are always divorced to me. I can think, ‘Yeah, this person is a icon of a man’ or something, and the hormones just won’t go for me; at some fundamental level, just the masculine shape doesn’t work for me. So, yeah, if I woke up tomorrow and my trainwreck of a walking corpse suddenly looked good I’d… like, it sure. I might even want to preen about it a bit, but it’d more like someone bragging about their car rather than how hot they are.