🍇 dancy.

“If a guy calls you ‘princess’ in a condescending manner, assert your newly appointed royal status and have him beheaded.”

These [CNC] fantasies have never caused me distress, even before I really considered what they meant or where they were coming from. Today, I feel most comfortable with and interested in this explanation: in my sexually formative years, I did not feel very pursued. My desire, my drive, was always greater, it seemed, than that of anyone I met. It is twisted, but it is what it is: a scenario of being taken against my will is, for me, a scenario of uncomplicated want for my body. The want is in fact so great that my very humanity becomes inconsequential. My attractiveness trumps ethics, even my humanity. Through violation, my value is at long last confirmed. In many of my earliest sexual experiences, my pleasure was undermined by people-pleasing distraction: worry that I wasn’t doing a good enough job, that my partner wasn’t going to fulfill my needs, that it would be over too soon. In a CNC fantasy, I can be 100 percent sure the person violating me is taking what he wants. Because he doesn’t care about my needs, I am free to have my own experience. I don’t have to feel guilty for dissociating. What’s more, it’s expected. You can’t take me if I’m already gone. I am just a body, a body that is wanted: the fact that my body is wanted for violence doesn’t seem to affect how validating it is to be wanted.