My Encounter with a Fake "Dom"

So I am a nice girl, but here is an actual email exchange which demonstrates what happens when you start out being RUDE to me:



Wussiefied Fake Dom (WFD):  Any reason you have your asscheeks displayed for all to see?



NCSubMILF4u (Me):  Well, yeah.  It is because the HETEROSEXUAL male members of collarme like that sort of thing.  But then, you wouldn't know anything about that.



WFD:  Don't be ashamed if men f*ck you in the a$$, it's OK.



Me:  MEN do, in fact, f*ck me in the a$$.  But that would exclude you.



WFD:  Did you cry the first time you were a$$f*cked or did you take it like a good girl?



Me:  I took it like a good girl.  Unfortunately, you will never get it like a good boy.  I don't put out for men whose best pickup line is "If you make any noise I will cut your throat."



WFD:  One sec, let me pull my BBC out of the throat of this Irish sub.



Me:  Firstly, your c*ck isn't "big" just because you can fit it into a potato.  Secondly, why are you f*cking a potato?



WFD:  How often do you take c*ck in the ass?  Sounds like often.



Me:  Every time I am on my period, unless he'd rather have a bj.  And any additional times he wants it, because he makes the rules, and I follow orders.  You know, like your relationship with your mother.



WFD:  Thanks for the beer.  I bet that you were an anal whore.



Me:  Bet again!  Maybe you can win some KY Jelly so you can take care of that little itch that no woman will be scratching for you tonight, or this week, or ever.



WFD:  Thanks for the beer.  I also bet that you sucked a$$, but since you didn't admit to it, I had to buy everyone here a beer.



Me:  You bought a whole round of beers?  That is a significant advance on your milk money, isn't it?  Oh, I know - you can tell momma that the eight year old girl next door bullied you and took your lunch money.  She will believe that!



WFD:  I only bet on you for a beer.  Sluttier girls we bet drinks.  If you would admit to sucking a$$ you would have saved me a six pack.



Me:  Oh, I see.  You need me to save you a six pack.  You live in your mother's basement.  You depend on mama for lunch money.  When are you going to stop being so dependent on women?  When are you going to stop hiding behind women's skirts?



WFD:  My buddy betted you didn't suck a$$ and won, though the 8 of us here in this convo say you do.



Me:  I'm surprised any real men would want anything to do with a prepubescent loser such as yourself.  Most men want to get under my skirt, and you only want to hide behind it.  Uhhhh, I hate to ask, but which of your eight GUY friends is Irish?  See ya later, hon!  Enjoy your circle jerk!

Submission to, and from, Women

I saw a female "dom" profile recently that said something like this:



"The greatest gift a man can give to a woman is total submission."



I got to thinking about that, and you know, she's right!  Submission, when given by a man to a woman, IS in fact a gift.  This is because, if a man does not GIVE submission to a woman, she will never get it from him any other way.  No woman can earn, demand, or even merit submission from a man.



But it occurs to me that I have never "given" submission to my Dom.  He is simply stronger than I am, in every possible way: intellectually, emotionally, physically, spiritually.  While I resisted giving him total submission at first, there came a day when I realized that I was striving against the natural order, and that I was only making things more difficult for myself by not surrendering.  I realized that the day would come when he would have whatever he wanted from me, and I was only causing myself untold pain by resisting that.



I surrendered because both he and nature itself demanded that I surrender.  I did not give a gift - I was defeated, like an army in battle.  I had no choice.



Since I was conquered by male authority, my life has become incomprehensibly better.  I am more stable, have more understanding, and have blossomed in every area of my life.  The anger and soullessness that I had when I still had a scrap of foolish feminism in me is completely gone.  I live to please he who is stronger and better than I because there is simply no other way to live.



The difference between the right kind of male "Dom" and all the fake female "dommes" is that Male Authority is real, and MUST be recognized.  Female "authority" is fake, and it is wholly optional as to whether an individual bends to it (always temporarily) or not.



One chooses to submit to females.  The right kind of Male demands submission.

Captivated.

I am captivated, mystified, and awed by all things male.



This morning I look at the dressing room counter and see his shaving kit: straight razor, shaving soap, shaving mug, and shaving cream brush, along with the razor strop hanging on the wall.  I watch him lather up and flip out the straight razor and begin to shave.  I think of how often I nick myself shaving my legs or privates with a safety razor, and am amazed he does not lop his head off with that thing.



And I marvel at his hairy chest, his rippling muscles, and the power of his masculinity as he stands there, wrapped in a towel and shaving.  That a man could do something so mundane and yet exude sex, that he could do something so common and yet exude authority, grace, and skill, this is the essence of masculinity.



And it is why I crave male authority.

Fun at the Strip Club!

My little excursion into the strip club on Saturday night was very much fun!  I made them promise me that I could choose my own music (I don't do rap, which seems to be what most of the girls are doing these days) and they said if I would come out I could choose my music and keep all my tips without paying anything to the house.



So I chose Alice Cooper's "Poison," Journey's "Wheel in the Sky," Vince Neil's "Tattoos and Tequila," and Motley Crue's "Looks that Kill."  I did four sets of two songs each, and just rotate those four songs.



Things went really great!  Not to criticize strippers, but I think some of them get jaded to their job.  I was surprised at how mechanically many of the girls danced - but wasn't surprised when these same girls did not get tips.  So I went out and really got into the music and tried to be sexy and sultry and seductive, and tried to treat my dances like sex.  The guys loved it.  I made a lot of tips.



And as the night wore on, the second time I danced to "Wheel in the Sky," they called for an encore.  The management was kind enough to let me come out and do it one more time, so I got to dance to that song three times, and my final set was actually three songs instead of two.



I must really get into dancing to that particular song.  If you read my journals, you will have seen the central place that song took in a previous private dance before.  Anyway, I love getting naked, being admired, and seducing the audience.  I think my secret is that I try to seduce each individual in the audience... but enough shop talk.



Maybe you should have me come and dance for you...?

Evaluating the Intellectual Validity of Feminism as a Philosophical Orientation

All feminists are stupid.  There are no exceptions.

On Dominance in Women

The more I become a slave, the more you will swear I am a goddess.
  
The true power of the woman has nothing to do with fake dominance (and all dominance in women is fake) or silly notions of feminism or female supremacy.  The true power of the woman is in her ability to fulfill the roles of both slave and goddess, convincingly and simultaneously.

My Night Stripping at a Private Party

One of the guys who had seen me doing my stripper routine at the club asked me to come and do a party he was having this past weekend.  He had a stripper pole on a platform in the center of the room and all his friends mingling and drinking around it while I performed.  I did about 20 songs, including getting down off the platform and giving lap dances.  I did 4-5 song sets so that I could get down, give them time to cool off, and change costumes (changing costumes, of course, only so that I could get naked again!).



It was a great night.  I was surprised at the compliment I kept hearing over and over again: "It's so great to see someone strip to rock.  All the strip clubs play is hip hop."  And apparently, everybody hates hip hop these days.  Not that I am surprised - I hate it too.



I wonder how much more money strip clubs would be making if they played some reasonable music...?