The spring of 2000 was something of a turning point.
I had become dissatisfied with the direction my life was going and was contemplating whether there was anything about myself I needed to change. Like many size fetishists, I suspect, I wondered whether indulging in size fantasies was an unhealthy distraction, symptomatic of deeper problems, or damaging my self-image. Spending all this time and energy on sexual scenarios that were impossible to realize and no one I was close to was interested in? Was I ignoring my responsibilities and my potential, waiting for an imaginary giantess to come along and make my problems go away?
It had been a few years since the Internet had shown me that I wasn’t the only size kinkster out there, but I still didn’t really identify with anyone else. I had seen the “community” evolve from alt.sex.fetish.size to Stephanie Evans’s Gallery to the first discussion forums, but the vast majority of the content did little or nothing for me. There was very little nuance in either images or stories, almost no one categorized their material, and the only two distinctions were GTS/SM and Violent/Gentle (the latter ratio was absurdly lopsided).
The thin participation on the forums didn’t give me any reason to want to get to know anyone, either. People would share images and stories, and a handful would get simple responses, but there didn’t seem to be any avenue for proposing variations that might come closer to meeting my personal desires. There wasn’t a single image or story that I didn’t have to mentally edit before it matched up with my preferred scenarios, and no one seemed willing to have a discussion about what size fantasy could be.
Like every size fetishist who first discovers online size porn, I binged and then I crashed, the crash coming with the ironic realization that even among size fetishists, my unique-snowflake desires weren’t being specifically addressed. I held myself apart from the discussion forums, instead just sifting through mountains of content looking for that rare piece that resonated with me, and monitoring notices of size-difference sightings in mainstream media.
I was in the middle of re-evaluating whether further time and energy spent on online size porn was actually counter-productive to other goals I might have when I saw a post about a music video by a band I had never heard of. It had been years since the volume of new and possibly size-related videos on MTV had dropped below a level worth monitoring, but the hyperbolic description used by the poster piqued even my world-weary interest. I had to do some research to find out when the video might be aired (you kids with your YouTube have no idea how lucky you have it), and much time was wasted fast-fowarding through VHS tapes.
And then I saw it.
In the middle of my despair and doubt over the place of size fantasy in my life, a giant Pamela Anderson strolled up, placed her hands on her hips, looked down and said “I’m going to eat you up, little man.”
I never considered disowning my size fetish after that. It would still be years before I discovered others in the community whose passions and appreciations made me want to participate myself and eventually write down and share my own stories, but from then on I knew size fantasy was an inextricable part of me.
Originally posted: 11 Mar 2016
4 thoughts on “Lit — “Miserable””
I’ve never watched the video in its entirety. 🤔 Shocking, I know, but I’m not in the demographic.
But I understand the notion of being somewhere and finding nothing with which I can connect. I joined boards looking for similarly minded women with whom I could discuss my interest in tiny men and double down on my vague notion that perhaps I wasn’t insane because I wanted a relationship with a tiny person. I found very few women, and none that shared my views.
My solution has always been to make my own material. Every once in a while I find an image or story that fits me perfectly, and the sensation of it is quite lovely.
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Every once in a while I find an image or story that fits me perfectly, and the sensation of it is quite lovely.
The paucity of joy increases its intensity. Like scoring in soccer. How many times is a story or image “oh so close”? I hope you are fortified by the knowledge that your contributions are special and cherished by others, particularly by those of us who come to size fantasy by a different path.
The Shrunken Women Board has a thread titled The “If you Squint it kinda looks like SW” thread. I suspect most of us will be squinting the rest of our lives.
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EXACTLY. Anyone that thinks a sport’s level of excitement is directly correlated to the number of scores doesn’t understand anything.
Thank you for your nice comment about my contributions. I know they mean next to nothing to those that like the current art status quo, but so what.
My Favorites folder at DA is full of squinty images.
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I remember when that video came out. I’d never heard of them either, but a woman I was chatting regularly online pointed it out to me. She did so with a mixture of excitement at having a precious prize to share with me, and an air of disdain, like “of course you’d be into something this perverse.” I brushed her poor attitude aside and enjoyed the thrill of the video, almost recanting my position on Pamela Anderson. I wondered which band member it was who shyly suggested what everyone else must’ve interpreted as a daring, bizarre video theme. Or maybe he’d confessed it all to them over beers and they were titillated by the idea. “Seriously? Pamela Anderson agreed? Holy fuck, dude, this is going to be amazing.”
Well, the occasional video errors weren’t amazing, and neither was the persistent baby-blue background, but otherwise… beggars can’t be choosers. It was fucking awesome.
STEPHANIE EVANS. I’ve been trying to remember that name for a long time. Last time I went to her site, it was bugged and virus-laden all to hell, but I think I grabbed all the content for posterity. I really, really wish all the original forums I visited initially, when I found private computer time and started searching. People mention sites and addresses and they sound familiar, but I never know how much I participated on them. I do have a three-ring binder of stories printed out from a couple individual archives, so that’s something.
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