WHO ASPIRES TO BE A "DOMINATRIX"?!?!?
A Dominatrix----Did I spell it correctly?!?!?
Four years ago, I found this chapter among my journals and considered it for My Book. In the final cut, only two encounters made it between-the-covers. No, my life hasn’t been dull, boring, or normal and sometimes it bothers me that I attract men who are “different”.
You can read all—some--or none of my revelations. They aren’t for everyone. I don’t write for shock-value. I simply write the truth.
Raised in the South, I read Gone with the Wind multiple times. With each reading I marveled that Scarlett, so pretty, confident, and strong, wanted to win the affections of Ashley, an insipidly weak man. Unlike Scarlett, I never wanted weak men in my life yet somehow… they find me. Invariably, they find me where I live, play, work, and shop. My life is non-fiction. I am not creative enough to make up the "sexy" scenarios you are about to read:
I was living in Atlanta, Georgia at the time of this particular incident:
"While browsing for shoes in one of Atlanta’s most popular Atlanta department store, I was approached by a man wanting to help me try on shoes. Dressed in an American Airlines uniform, it was apparent this man was no shoe salesman. When I questioned his uniform, he explained he was an airline pilot. Feeling uncomfortable, I quickly sat down to try on the shoes I’d pulled from the sale rack. The pilot immediately moved into the empty seat beside me.
Removing the shoes I was wearing, I glanced at my seat mate. He wasn’t looking at me. Instead, he was seriously-studying my feet. He appeared mesmerized as I stood in front of the mirror, trying to decide if I liked the sale shoes well enough to buy them. The uniformed stranger began making comments like, “your feet are very slender”….. “You have delicately curved ankles”…. and “I’m in love with how your arches look in those heels.”
Perhaps, in the beginning, I was flattered by all his attention…but the Pilot’s submissive behavior and his weird comments made me extremely nervous. Muttering something about another appointment, I hurried away. I’m usually attracted to men in uniform but, not this one."
THIS NEXT INCIDENT APPEARED IN MY BOOK:
"Running every morning near the Arkansas River, I began receiving mysterious calls from a man who had, apparently, been following me. From the first phone call, the mysterious caller described my legs and what I was wearing the last time he saw me running on the bike trail. His voice sounded angry as he described his need for me to stand on his chest, kick him, urinate on him, and strangle his neck with my “powerful long legs”! I taped some of his phone calls and, after playing the tapes for the Little Rock police department, I followed the Police Chief’s request to meet the strange caller.
Based on the caller's conversations, I perceived him to be a very sick, unstable individual. Sensing my fear, the chief of police assured me that undercover police driving unmarked cars, would follow me to the meeting spot. The police planned to arrest the caller and end the abusive, possibly-dangerous phone calls.
I arrived at the designated meeting spot. The mystery man pulled up in a late-model Mercedes convertible, got out and walked to my car. Glancing inside to make certain it was me—the mystery man opened the passenger side of my car and climbed in. Immediately six policemen--guns ready--surrounded my car and took control. When I looked into the face of the mysterious caller, I was shocked. I knew his name, his identity---in fact--- I knew the man and his wife. He was a wealthy Little Rock businessman who was married to another Miss Arkansas.”
And, I can’t forget my student at a Virginia High School:
“The school day was almost over when the student asked to stay after class to talk with me. Everyone had left the room and this normally-shy young boy blurted out that he dreamed of me pulling down his pants and spanking him until he cried. The more he talked—fantasized--the more excited he became. Fearful of what might happen, I hurriedly-ended our talk saying I was late for a teachers’ conference. At the time, I was an over-sixty teacher and he was a 16 year-old student. It was a scary situation that could have easily become out-of-control. I had no desire to make “Headlines".
So I ask a fundamental question: What ever happened to romance, courtship, and traditional love-making? I’ve never be attracted to passive males yet… regardless of my age… there are always males who fantasize that I'm a dominatrix who dresses in black stiletto boots, a tight black-body suit, and uses a black leather-fringed whip on my male footboys, my "slaves."
Apparently, there are many who don’t know that my life has been a fight-to-the-finish. I've had no choice but appear confident, strong, and independent. I learned long-ago to never appear weak so yes, I’ve chosen to be seen as a strong woman. I find it interesting that the most valuable part of me is, for the most part, over-looked.
My heart is more loving today than ever-before. Ever the romantic-- I've waiting all-my-life for the man who will love me--with romance--in the “classic, old-fashion-way.”
I have fun, wearing black tights and black boots, but absolutely NO INTEREST in owning or using a black whip.
Inflicting pain on others is not my idea of ROMANCE and...it's certainly not my style.