Transanimated Soapbox #1

Hey all, I’ve never really done this before, but I thought I’d write a journal-style post with some thoughts about my latest TF stories, thoughts on the nature of this fetish, and so on. I'll probably do more like this. Think of it as a little Transanimated newsletter.

All these single page toilet transformations

I’ve been having a good time writing all these single-page toilet TFs I’ve been posting lately. I’ve got a large collection of one- or two-photo sets that aren’t useful for doing longer stories, and it’s been a lot of fun spending the last week riffing on toilet TF scenarios without having to do anything too elaborate.

In the last week, I’ve done toilet TFs that were voluntary, accidental, intentional for psychotic motives, intentional for mundane motives, intentional as a random act of cruelty, and intentional as punishment. These toilets have had users who were disgusted, loving, obsessed, playful, indifferent, and vindictive. The toilets mostly hated their experiences, although at least one or two showed signs of eventually learning to love their new lives.

All of these scenarios turn me on because they all reflect some form of female domination one might experience in everyday life. Even Jessica, the loving sister from Bakery In Her Bowels, is dominating her brother with love by assuming that she knows what’s best for him without asking him. Aunt Edna bears no ill-will against her nephew in Auntie's Poopin' Pot, but his experience means so little to her that she’s comfortable with cursing him to an eternity of disgusting servitude as her toilet just to avoid a minor inconvenience on her part; she dominates him with her indifference to his existence. In Pervert’s Remorse, Kate utterly dominates Steve with her disgust for his perversion; it disgust that led her to demand that he silence himself so that she would never have to speak to him again, and it was that silence spell that resulted in Steve being trapped with his self-annihilating decision forever.

With the extremely dissimilar motivations of love, indifference, and disgust, these three women each nonetheless dominated their respective men into existence as mere servile objects. That’s sexy.

What transformation stories are about, to me

I’ve been asked a few times why I never do toilet/diaper TFs where the transformed person volunteers for the transformation and then immediately enjoys their experience. It’s surprising to me that there are people who are interested in the kind of gross femdom TF that I specialize in who want the TF to be so easy for the transformed person. In the closest story to this scenario that I’ve ever done, A Diaper’s Duty, the diaper volunteers for his transformation without being asked, and never explicitly regrets his decision or asks to be transformed back into a man (indeed, he asks not to be changed back when his user offers); however, he is not portrayed as taking pure pleasure in his diaper existence. He struggles to contain his disgust as his female user fills him up with her poop and pee, and when he faces a disgusting eternity as a dirty diaper buried in a landfill, he is afraid. Although the diaper’s insane sexual obsessions led it to choose its own fate, the diaper’s user does ultimately act as a female dominator, because she witnesses the diaper struggle with his grotesque new reality, and yet is merely amused to watch and even aid him on his sexually depraved path to self-annihilation and eternal fecal damnation.

To me, the unpleasantness is an essential part of the submission fantasy. In the most basic form of the fantasy, I am compelled to submit to some unpleasant and disgusting situation by some dominating, feminine force; it’s that female domination itself that is sexually exciting.

Of course, I write plenty of stories where the transformed person winds up taking great pleasure in their new existence. Indeed, in the very recent Hey, I Think He Likes Shit!!!, the toilet boy already seems to be taking pleasure in his new reality, in spite of himself. But in my stories, this is always implied to be a new state of mind that is imposed upon the objectified man (or objectified woman, although I usually write male victims) by his female dominator, who crushed his formerly human mind into absolute and final submission. And again, it’s that domination that turns me on, in and of itself. Without the domination element, a toilet/diaper TF femdom story would really just be a story about a woman agreeing to pleasure a man in an unconventional way, with the woman enjoying herself for no other reason than the fact that the man is getting what he wants. In my view that’s pretty much the complete opposite of a femdom fantasy.

I won’t be surprising any fans of my work by stating that I have a female fart fetish. This isn’t because my smell receptors are scrambled such that a woman’s fart smells like a cinnamon pastry to me. The more awful the fart smells, the better; the thing that turns me on is that a woman’s ass is forcing me to smell this awful odor (it will also come as no shock to any of you that I’m a straight-up ass man ‘til the end of days); her farting ass is dominating me. Eventually, the smell itself did, in a sense, become physically pleasant to me, but only because it’s associated with the original psychological/mental pleasure of female domination.

So that magical process that compels toilets to enjoy being toilets in many of my TF fantasies? It actually mirrors the real-life reality of the growth of a sexual fetish. It starts with the feeling of being dominated by some otherwise unpleasant thing — let’s keep using female farts as an example — which puts me into a pleasant/excited/sexually receptive state due to some innate sexual obsession with being dominated or humiliated. Eventually, female farts become so inextricably tied to this feeling of excitement that the stink of the farts themselves becomes physically pleasurable. And of course, that sexual obsession with domination that started me down this path to finding pleasure in smelling a lady’s farts isn’t something I chose; it was just there, thrust upon me against my will by nature or nurture or whatever.

I have no idea where that initial obsession comes from, all I know is that I, personally, can trace the growth of this obsession back to my early childhood; I'll write a lot more on that in the next Soapbox. So in a sense, all of these TF fantasies I have of being transformed against my will and eventually being twisted into loving my pathetic, grotesque new existence are just fun-house mirror reflections of my real life sexual experience as a guy with fetishes.

What about you guys? What turns you on about this stuff? Leave a comment!