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I’ve
always had a fantasy of playing with the limp body of an extremely
beautiful woman who is pretending to be dead. Real death grosses
me out. I’ve never had a problem meeting girls, but sometimes
I have to visualize my fantasy to stay hard. I achieved my
first orgasm watching horror movies and I’ve often masturbated
to fantasy necro content on the web (i.e., www.necrobabes.com).
For obvious reasons I’ve felt insecure and ashamed about this
fetish and haven’t shared it with anyone. To make a long story
short, I recently paid a fetish model at a BDSM dungeon to
enact my fantasy of a corpse in a morgue. She did a great
job, but I was surprisingly not aroused. Could it be that
I’m not into this? Or could I have conditioned myself into
thinking I’m into this fantasy by overthinking and overwanking?
Should I try and purge it entirely from my mind? Or am I hopelessly
and permanently tethered to it?
—Wants
’Em Drop Dead Gorgeous
Or
could it be that indulging in the most extreme version of
your limp-woman fantasy—a female corpse in a morgue—was less
of a turn-on than, say, a kinder, gentler version of your
fantasy might be? Let’s back up a little, WEDDG: While the
power dynamics at play in some people’s fantasy scenarios
are more obvious than in others, almost all sexual fantasies
are, at bottom, about power and control. From BDSMers to foot
fetishists to women who want to peg their boyfriends, people
eroticize power because our subconscious minds, tormented
by our sexual urges, process our fears by eroticizing them.
In your case, WEDDG, you want total power over an extremely
beautiful woman—you don’t want her dead, you ol’ softie, you
just want her “pretending to be dead,” and therefore incapable
not only of resisting but also of critiquing, making demands,
being unsatisfied, making unflattering comparisons, pointing
and laughing, getting knocked up—basically, incapable of doing
all the things that men fear. Unlike a live woman, a dead
woman can never emasculate you. She may not smell very good
after a few days but then there’s always a catch, isn’t there?
Sad to say, this desire isn’t going to go away—fetishes don’t
go away, WEDDG. We can wrestle with ’em, look back over our
lives and tease out the clues, we can choose to act on them
or not, but we can’t erase ’em. What you can do, however,
is attempt to refocus your desire for power and control away
from female corpses (which is going to scare most women off),
and toward some other, more common, less terrifying kinks
that will allow you to indulge your bedrock erotic urge—which,
again, is to have power and control over the woman in your
bed, not to actually have a dead woman in your bed. Luckily
for you, WEDDG, there are a lot of women out there who get
off on playing power and control games. The sane ones want
to be powerless in short doses and under carefully controlled
circumstances, but they’re out there. If you can refocus your
P&C kink on, say, tying up an extremely beautiful woman
or having a beautiful woman who’s your willing slave, not
your cadaver, you will be less insecure and ashamed.
Finally, if you can’t let go of your extremely-beautiful-pretend-dead-woman
fantasy, and if paying for it is a turn-off, check out the
local goth scene in your area, as some of those girls might
not be too spooked by your fantasy. But there’s always a catch:
I’ve never actually seen an extremely beautiful goth girl
myself—most of them seem to have weight problems, which has
always struck me as strangely contradictory. From the neck
up, the look cultivated by goth girls seems to say, “Oh, we
despair of this world and long for the sweet embrace of death!”
From the neck down, their look seems to say, “I’ll take the
bacon cheeseburger, two orders of fries, and a Diet Coke,
please.”
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I am a 22-year-old woman who got drunk with some friends
and downloaded some sick porn. We ended up watching a woman
having sex with a dog. I mocked it with everyone else but
I felt myself getting turned on. I was disturbed by this,
because I had always thought of myself as fairly well-adjusted.
Now I feel disgusting. What turned me on the most about the
experience were the sounds the woman made. She sounded like
she was having the best sex of her life. I wonder if this
is the reason I was turned on—I’ve always found groaning women
incredibly sexy. But my mind screams that I’m just trying
to rationalize it all away. The fact that I was turned on
haunts me. I will be at work, and suddenly, “You’re into bestiality,
you sick fuck!” pops into my head. I like having sex with
people, not animals! What can I do to get rid of this?
—My
Utterly Terrible Turn-On
For
starters, MUTT, you can stop trying to prevent your mind from
rationalizing this dog-fucking thing away. Rationalizations
have a bad rap, I realize, but there are times when they come
in handy—and suddenly being turned on by the idea of being
fucked by a dog is definitely one of those times. And as rationalizations
go, yours seem pretty darn rational: You’ve always thought
groaning women were incredibly sexy and you weren’t turned
on by the idea of being fucked by a dog until you saw a video
of a loudly groaning woman being fucked by a dog. It stands
to reason that you wouldn’t have been turned on if the woman
you saw being fucked by a dog had been silently flipping through
the Weekly Standard, or glumly watching Hardball.
But she was groaning and the reptile part of your brain that’s
always been into groans made a snap association between groans
and fucking dogs. Now you need to let the non-reptile part
of your brain unmake that association.
So let those rationalizations work their magic. It wasn’t
the dog-fucking that turned you on, MUTT, but the crazy level
of arousal the woman in the tape achieved. (Or, more likely,
faked for money or under duress.) Tell yourself that if you
ever did fuck a dog you wouldn’t be turned on at all because
you’re not into fucking dogs.
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I was impressed and am deeply grateful for how you responded
to a letter from a diaper fetishist recently. I have a diaper
fetish. The absolute first thing any of us wants to get across
to a curious/disgusted public is that our fetish has zero
to do with actual children. I can’t tell you how much I would
give to not have this fetish. It has cost me more than one
relationship, the latest ending the day before your recent
column on my fetish was published. I’ve never forced it on
anyone, usually hiding it the best I can, but my most recent
ex discovered my fetish without my knowledge and was thoroughly
grossed out. Hopefully she’ll read your column one day and
gain a greater understanding. I just wanted to say thank you,
Dan.
—No
Use for a Clever Acronym
You’re
welcome, NUFACA, and just in case your ex-girlfriend is reading:
Honey, things could’ve been much, much worse. Compared to
a thing for dead women or fucking dogs, a diaper fetish is
positively endearing.
mail@savagelove.net
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