I’m a student (22) in NY and I’m still living with my strict aunty (42) in a common household. She keeps a teight reign over me – for any mistakes by my side – she still beats me up with the whip on my naked ass! After corporal punishment I have to bow down in front of her feet, removing her pumps and licking her smelly nylon cladded feet for mercy. It’s so humiliating for me – but my aunty says that worshipping ladies feet is the normalest men’s duty I have to learn for the future. On sunday afternoon she often gives a hen party – then I’m forced to crawl under the table to serve the ladies feet as an obedient foot slave! That’s good for my behaviour – my aunty says – really?
I’ve got eight of these sitting in my inbox right now. Sent within 24 hours of each other.
And this one, left as a comment.
………. Are you all fucking serious? What the fuck is wrong with you?
Did you honestly think I wouldn’t see through this bullshit? And I’ll direct that question, also, to all the men who have sent/are considering sending me something like this.
No, really. How stupid do you think I am?
What is the thought process here? I’m serious, I actually want to know. I want to know the linear process that starts at Point A and leads to the conclusion that sending something like this is a good idea, and something I’d react well to.
I mean, you do realize this is the kinky equivalent of an unsolicited dick pic, right? Has an unsolicited dick pic ever worked out well for any man, in the history of ever?
Like seriously, I wish I had half the confidence a man does when he sends me something like this, so damn sure I’ll be totally interested in it.
No, if there was a way to bottle that confidence, I’d be a billionaire and self-esteem issues would literally become an obsolete concept. We’d be old and gray, sitting in a rocking chair, telling our grandkids about how back in the day, people use to struggle with their self image. And those kids would stare at us, slackjawed, completely unable to even remotely grasp the concept.
Seriously. I wish I had just a little bit of that confidence.
Growing up, we had cats that often went outside for hours each day. One in particular loved to bring us back “presents.”
Translation: Dead or half-dead rodents.
And he’d be so proud of himself, waiting for us to pet him and tell him what a good boy he is.
And my thought when reading something like this, or opening messages filled with dick pics (I didn’t ask for) belonging to complete strangers, is identical to the thought I had when he’d drop his gifts at my feet:
“I can see you’re proud of yourself, but it’s disgusting and I’m not touching it, and I guess I can’t really expect anything better from such an unevolved creature with an inferior brain.”
Literally, do men even know how much time women spend rolling their eyes at them?
Do me a favor, gentlemen. A little visualization exercise, if you will.
You know those obnoxious kiosk vendors at the mall, right? The ones that you awkwardly smile and nod at, and try to edge your way past while they get all up in your space, trying their damndest to push their shitty product on you?
M’kay, now imagine that’s your whole life. Everywhere you go. Not just the mall. Grocery shopping. Dropping your car off at the shop. The DMV. The fucking bank. And God forbid you go to a bar by yourself and just want to be left the fuck alone. No matter where you go, there are kiosk vendors following you around, wanting you to see how awesome their product is, and how it’s so much better than anything else you’ll find anywhere else.
That is what it’s like to be a woman.
Except the product is always the same. It’s always dick. Before I got with Kazander, I took to wearing a ring on my left ring finger, just so men would see it and leave me alone. But that only works maybe 75% of the time. I literally once told a particularly persistent man I had a penis, just to get him to fuck off.
Every time I open a message or email from someone I don’t know, I’m expecting him to be a douchebag sending me a dick pic, a douchebag asking to “serve me” despite the fact that he lives in Tibet or some shit and knows nothing about me (and I know nothing about him), or some douchebag using the “Ask Me Anything” page here to share their kinks and their fantasies, pretending to “ask a question,” assuming that I’m not intelligent enough to see exactly what they’re doing.
I do like the use of the “really?” there in that message. So this one was at least intelligent enough to incorporate an actual interrogative sentence (fragment).
Side note: Holy shit, bro. Whatever college you’re going to is ripping you off.
I consider all three things listed above to be nothing more than different versions of dick pics.
But I’m yes, every time I get communication from someone new, that’s what I’m expecting it to be.
Why do I think that? Because 19 out of 20 messages from new people are one of those three things (and that’s an incredibly generous ratio, by the way). And I’m usually polite when I reject them and tell them I’m not interested. And more often than not, that rejection is met with being called a disgusting bitch, or (the really fun ones) threats to rape and/or murder me and/or my family.
I’m serious. 100% of the time that I see a new commenter, email from a new address, or fetlife message from an unfamiliar name, that’s what I’m expecting. If you’ve ever contacted me, I want you to understand that I saw the new email or message, saw that I didn’t recognize the name, and rolled my eyes, thinking “Great, what does this douchebag want?”
Sometimes, I’m proven wrong, and the writer of the message is, in fact, not a douchebag. Sometimes, it’s a reader asking for advice or asking some other question. Sometimes, it’s a gentleman reaching out to tell me how much he loves my blog. Sometimes it’s something constructive and something I enjoy reading.
But that is rare. The vast majority of the time, it’s one version or another of a dick pic.
No, I’m actually serious. What is the thought process behind sending me (or any woman) shit like this? I want someone to take me through it. Step by step. What makes a man decide to do that?
Well, for future reference, to any readers who may be itching to send me some bullshit like this (whether an actual or metaphorical dick pic), I made this useful flowchart to help you out.
Okay, now that that’s out of the way…
There is an infinitesimally small chance that the writer of this comment is actually telling the truth. I mean, he’s not, but I know for a fact that people like his “aunty” and situations like his actually exist, so let’s pretend that this scenario is real, and we’ll pretend he’s not an insensitive, indescribably colossal asshole for
bragging writing about this right fucking after the big, huge “abuse” debate.
Because let’s face it, given the tone and unique choice of words in multiple places, even if this is true, his only reason for writing about it is to brag about it. He’s not asking for advice, he’s not asking for help getting out of this situation, he’s not asking anything.
So what were you expecting, dude? You want my opinion? Sure…
If this is something you consent to, then good for you. I’m glad you enjoy it. Knock yourself out. But I honestly don’t give two shits about what you and your relatives do. I don’t know you, I don’t care about you, and I’m not interested in discussing your fetishes with you, and I think you’re a douchebag.
If your use of the word “force” is genuine, and you truly don’t want to be in that situation, I can help you, and have a number of resources I can share with you. I can help you find the support system you need to get out. If that’s the case, and you actually need help, then email me privately and we can talk about it.
And any readers who are considering contacting me in the future, I urge you to refer to the flowchart above before hitting the Send button.