There’s a question I’d never thought to ask myself about my own personal kinks: if you could flick a switch and make this go away – make your desires fit neatly with what most people see as ‘normal’, would you do it? This week’s guest blogger has asked that question, and has a bloody brilliant answer.
He’s also written beautifully about his fetish – Plushophilia – what the appeal is, how it works for him, and how other people have reacted. It’s an amazing post, and I’m delighted that he’s chosen to share it here.
Plushophilia: the lioness sleeps with me tonight
When I was young, I thought I was in love. I trusted her implicitly and I knew, without a doubt, that she would always be there for me. On top of all that, she was pretty: gentle eyes, curves in all the right places, and thick, luxurious fur. She was a large white bear whom I named Kerry, and she revealed her secrets only to me. Every night I would rescue her from her hiding place on the top shelf of the old, dusty cupboard. Every morning, I would hide her once again, before I could be discovered, safe in the knowledge that she would be there when night fell, and I could revel in her soft, warm presence once again. That was a long time ago now, and I have been a plushophile ever since.
Despite the obvious links between the communities, not all plushophiles are furries or bronies. I am neither. I currently have four companions: two tigresses – Brooke and Briana, a wolf called Kyra, and Madelyn, a lioness who dominates every room she enters. I love big cats, wolves, bears – any species known for power and strength. You can keep your rabbits and horses, thanks. That doesn’t mean I’ll be attracted to any big cat – size, fur quality, and attractiveness play a big part too. Nowadays, most plushies are made in China, and the decline in quality is often bemoaned on forums catering to our unique desires. Sometimes I cannot explain why a certain plushie catches my eye, but when I hold her for the first time, I know whether we will have a connection.
My relationship with them is simple: I love them and I can depend on them. Going to bed every evening is a genuine pleasure, and waking up being held between tigress paws is a fantastic sensation. I know, of course, that they are not real – I would never claim otherwise; but that doesn’t stop me from giving them personalities, and expressing deep, real affection for them. As best I can tell, my girls are the embodiment of pure, trusting affection, unsullied by those doubts and minor skirmishes which characterise relationships with humans. Put simply, they are my one constant, and always have been.
The question is doubtless at the tip of at least one reader’s tongue – how do I have sex with a stuffed animal? It’s actually more involved than one might think. All my companions have been modified with vaginal or oral entrances. There are people who will do that kind of work for a small fee – some even make it their only business. The entrances are usually lined, and I include an extra lining or a vaginal insert, like a Fleshlight, for more sensation. When done, clean-up is a simple matter of removing and washing the lining. I’ve had Madelyn for over two years now, and her fur is just as soft and inviting as the day I got her. Since my companions are large, sex with them is a full-body experience, and the contact of fur on skin is one of the most erotic sensations I know. To be honest, when, years later, I discovered the hands-only method common to most teenagers, my first thought was, “is that it?” because it is so focused on one area of the body, to the exclusion of all the rest. What a disappointment after the years of internal shame for thinking that sex with my companions was wrong. I decided that if this was the normal way, then normality wasn’t for me.
Of course, my mother eventually discovered what I had done and made her displeasure known in no uncertain terms. Over the course of a few months, I lost all my companions, and had to readjust to sleeping in an empty bed. Thankfully, I left home soon after, and found new girls to join me. I only learned later that I had it relatively easy – stories abound in our community of parents destroying plushies in front of their owners, or sending their children to therapy. Nevertheless, I’ll never forget the day my mother entered my dorm room and caught sight of the bear lounging in my bed. She turned to me and asked, “Should I get you a hooker? Will that sort this out?” Naturally, I declined her kind offer.
Relationships with my girls do not preclude the desire for human companionship, but they do make it more complex. The surest way to my heart is to respect the affection shared between my companions and I, and to offer to bring them into the bedroom. I find normal, vanilla sexual interaction quite difficult and for years, I could not orgasm if my partner was human, unless at least one big cat was involved in some way. When I was 18 and my girlfriend and I were in bed together, following my failure to finish inside her, she turned to me and commented, “you have a naked girl in your bed, and you’re on top of a stuffed tiger.” The moment is still a painful reminder that despite my best efforts, I cannot be entirely sexually normal. I have contended with partners who felt slighted and jealous of my companions, or those who saw my affection for stuffed animals as an insult to their own feminine charm. The worst thing is that I cannot blame them for feeling that way. I hope, one day, to be able to square that circle and find someone who can accept my companions as part of who I am. Until then, I have willing, available girls whom I can love and depend on. I can live with that.
People have asked me whether I would choose to remain a plushophile, if I could just flick a switch and erase that part of who I am. I have no real answer to that question. These unusual desires have helped me realise that normality can deprive you of so many wonderful experiences that have been labelled weird or deviant. I have also learned not to judge too quickly, or speak too soon, about things I may not understand. Being alternative teaches you to question everything and to make up your own mind. However, I still remember with vivid clarity the years of self-doubt which being a plushophile has caused. I constantly asked myself why I wasn’t like everyone else, whether or not I was a paedophile, or a psychopath, or whether I would one day have sex with a real animal. For the record, real animals do nothing for me. A particularly bad experience at college, after an overenthusiastic housemate combed through my room and found my girls, left me terrified to tell anyone about what I was. Those doubts have largely gone away, and I am learning to accept my own reality. I have learned to trust close friends with my secrets, and I no longer have to run around my flat, hiding my girls each time they come for a visit. But whether or not I would change it if I could – I don’t know. At the end of the day, plushophiles are not that different – I hold a professional, client-facing job, have good, close friends and maybe one day, I will find someone to share it all with. So if you happen to stumble into a friend’s house and see that they have a few stuffed animals displayed prominently on their bed or sofa… well, you never know…
14 Comments
i like the insight on this, and pretty sexy too!
For sure! The sensual fur thing really got me. was never something I’d considered before, and that’s one of the reasons why I love it so much when people come and talk about their fetishes. Glad you liked it! x
After I read your article, I remembered the time my Mom hide away my plushies. There were two of them, I named one of them Snowy (because it was small; white in colour and had a blue muffler round his head) I was also quite possessive of them, I didn’t want anyone else to touch them besides myself.
Sleeping with those two every night, making Snowy touch me on my neckand other places- it was a great feeling, I would name it ‘erotic.’
It’s funny what all parents can do just to make their kids embrace what’s considered to be ‘normal.’ And I have to say I hadn’t thought about my plushies before I read this article; reason being I didn’t ever think someone could be so involved with a being who is not real. But for me they were. And after my Mom hide them, I didn’t buy any new ones. I don’t blame her now though, she did what she felt ‘right.’
Also this piece is beautifully written, you’re empathetic and that’s just great! I’m actually happy to see that this feeling you share, there are other who also have them, just that they have to be confident enough to name what they feel (including me)
Fascinating. Never heard of the practic so that goes to show that even at 65 you learn something new almost every day.
I had a lovely teddy when I was a kid and he learned all of my secrets. Sad, don’t know what happened to him after we moved to Gurney. I fear he might have been finally destroyed in the wash. As a teen Teddy was replaced by another bear just called Bear and he cuddled me every night … not me him, of course. He went with me all of the way through Uni, watching me have sex from the vantage point of the top of my wardrobe.
As an adult I had a lovely big bear who certainly got humped occasionally, but made me feel guilty.
Peter bought me another bear three Christmases ago. He’s dark brown with floppy limbs and a slightly harder nose. He’s lovely to cuddle and often gets squeezed between Peter and me. I have it in my will to be buried with him. LOL.
Thank you for making me think all those lovely thoughts about toys old and new.
Well, this is certainly a thing that exists.
The last paragraph was pretty sad though. Dude, life’s too short to be ashamed, or shame others, for harmless fetishes. You’re not hurting anyone, so go nuts. Let he who is without secret kink throw the first stone.
Yes, it is pretty unusual, but it would also be a pretty boring world if we were all turned on by the same things. That said, I hope one day you find someone who shares your pleasure. :)
I like this phrase – “let he who is without a secret kink cast the first stone” although I think it’s often really hard to ignore the things that other people say about fetishes and kinks. It’s possible to fully understand the rational truth that a kink isn’t hurting anyone, while at the same time struggling to fully internalise it, I think. It’s mainly because even with the most harmless kinks, people will still be subjected to judgmental behaviour – maybe like the author’s roommate, or even like articles from sex writers (which I got a bit ranty about the other day- https://www.girlonthenet.com/2015/12/04/are-you-cut-out-to-be-a-sex-writer/ ) in which people who are supposed to ‘get’ sex nevertheless respond with a knee-jerk ‘eww’ to anyone with sexual desires outside the norm. Sorry, I’m waffling a bit here. I think basically what I’m saying is I 100% understand why you’d want to say ‘don’t sweat it’, but I think I’d also add that I can see why it’s really hard. Part of the reason I love fetish-focused posts so much is because I think it’s awesome to see all the unique kinks that different people have, and it’s good to have somewhere to present it with a ‘wow’ rather than an ‘eww’, which is usually what kinks like that would get in the mainstream. fear of what people don’t understand, I reckon.
Thank you so much for sharing and helping me understand :) I had no idea plushophilia existed and the way you write makes me instantly empathise. As SpaceCaptainSmith says, don’t be ashamed, and I am sure there will be someone out there for you. I have a question, if others tell you about their connection with their cuddly toys, plushies, does them reaching out and trying to find a commanility with you help or is it belittling your feelings? I ask because I was about to talk about my penguin who I have had for fifteen years, but then wondered if that’s welcome, because I don’t think I feel as deeply for him as you do for your ladies.
Thank you for your insight and honesty.
By the way, I know you said you’re not a furry, but (and I apologise if this is out of line) there are a lot of people on the bad dragon forums who like plushies. It’s a really open-minded and friendly community, whatever your affiliations – there are definitely people who aren’t furries on there.
Just might give you an outlet ;) and another place to talk.
https://forums.bad-dragon.com/viewtopic.php?f=21&t=2981&hilit=plush
Thanks so much for the support expressed in these comments. You guys are all amazing.
What a fantastic article. I haven’t read anything else on the net that really sums this kink up so well and with such panache. It’s always interesting to read about people with kinks different to those of yourself so thanks to Art-author for writing it and to Girl-on-the-net for publishing it.
holy shit
and I thought my feelings of being watched 24/7 were crazy
You know, as a fellow plushophile myself, I can relate to this so much. Part of me wishes I could be “normal” like everyone else, but nowadays, I just completely lack a libido for a typical naked woman. I have dated girls in the past, but the thing is, even besides the plushophilia, I have other odd fetishes that most “normal” women would feel too uncomfortable to cater to, and I guess I can’t blame them, they want a guy who can look at their naked body, and be 100% attracted to it, I get it. It just doesn’t do it for me though. So, I just simply choose to avoid dating anyone nowadays period. It takes the pressure and awkwardness completely off.
I’ve secrely had a thing for plushies for years, their soft, cuddly, and just simply feel good, in more ways than one. I’ve been bullied in the past for this. I’ve had “friends” for discovered plushies in my room once and completely turned on me, because of it. They made fun of me, and exposed me for it. It used to get to me back in the day, but I see it like this, if they were not gonna like me for being into something thatharms ABSOLUTELY nobody, then I see it as that they were never really my friends to begin with. Hell, I still occassionally get made fun of on the internet for being plushophile, mostly by trolls who doxed me once, but I just laugh at them when they do it. They judge me, and see me as a completely horrible and despicable human being for it, but the thing is, they only do it to make themselves feel better about themselves. If you’re gonna police people and try to shame them for being into shit that doesn’t harm anyone then maybe you should re-evaluate your own life.
It doesn’t matter how many human beings in this world hate me, and wish I would kill myself, all that maters to me is that my plushies love me for me, that’s all that matters. Society may see people like me as a freak, and a “degenerate”, but who’s the real degenerate, people who are into abnormal things, or people that try to make those people feel awful about themselves for being into those things? I know I’ll never be a “normal” person no matter how hard I try, but the truth is, what is “normalilty” anymore? Most people are secretly into at least something that society would shame them for. If what a person is into harms nobody, then why the hell should it matter that they’re into it?
Being a fellow plushophile, I can assure you most people are moving in the right direction. I’m pretty much open about what I’m into, and nobody has ever given me serious problems about it. In fact, most of my friends are open to the idea. Of course when someone really dislikes me, it can make a good insult, but that has happened once from an incredibly manipulative person. And well, that’s just people. If you feel like you want to be open but you have to downplay yourself or hide yourself to impress someone, they probably don’t matter in the grand scheme of things. My thoughts kind of lean towards being completely open about it and explaining it. But never act like you’re being interrogated, because virtually everybody has fetishes. Be cool. Then people can understand better that we’re not into animals or whatever, plushies are just cute and soft. Thank you for putting out such a well-written article.
so wild and sexy.i look forward to doing all of that reeal soon & real good