I make my living as a professional dominatrix. I make my lifestyle
one of dominance. I tie people up, I humiliate them, and I make them beg
for more. I am not only a Bitch, but I am a Bitch Goddess.
I always warn my vanilla lovers that I am not a rock and roll nymphet
dressing for pleasure to titillate them. This outfit? It means something.
That withering stare? It means something. I am not here to be toyed with,
and you should be able to puzzle this through, batman. I am not an open
invitation to your wildest sexual fantasies, and I am not looking for a
good man to turn my life around. I am who I am because I have proactively
chosen my lifestyle.
I haven't been waiting on you to get here, so forgive me if I don't seem
excited now that you are. But hey-I could use a good fucking right about
now, so let's play--but don't expect to put me in your trophy case of the
unusual women you've dated so you can have Kodak moments of how hip you
were. You aren't all that. Not to me, and not even to yourself.
A few weeks down the road, you'll pull out your recipe-for-success card,
and you'll say, "I think I'm falling in love with you." What a sweet
sentiment, I think. "I don't want to see you again," I say. You've just
hit my panic alert button, friend ... why don't you just say instead,
"I'm willing to attempt to emotionally manipulate you?" No, I don't want
another conversational exchange at this point, I want you the motherfuck
out of my life. I've played this record enough to know how I like to
dance the ending alone--I'm more beautiful without you.
No, I'm not in love with you, and no, you can't mold me to fit your
stereotype. No, I don't care what you say, I don't care how you feel. YOU
made a nice trophy, and I thank you, but can you please just grovel away
now? Because you may have been my man of the month, but I am the
Bitch Goddess of your life.
Men. They make nice pets. But. I. Already. Have. A. Cat.
Yes! I want to read more from Real Life Heartless Bitches
|
