Number one, they're nuts. So serious, aren't they. Did you know that you MUST use Japanese Silk rope? Otherwise you're just not doing it right and you just don't belong. Like a resume, they broadcast their years of experience in the lifestyle. And what a lifestyle.
Who could possibly want to be a 24/7 slave? Weak people. Mentally incompetent people who want to have all their decisions made for them because there's safety in having it all figured out for you isn't there. Right. Especially if your stupid and unattractive. Which brings me to number two.
Sub women seem to more often be gargantuan, hideous, Ho-Ho gargling creatures. Folds of fat gobbling up the rope and big red lipstick smiles sweating and squashed into the bed. Doesn't it just scream, use me. A tidal wave of cellulose beckoning, jiggling. Like jello. Come 'n get it, big boy! Come 'n get ALL of it!
Dommes are often the more beautiful ones to look at. At least the jpeg versions of their selves. But then there's the problem of sexual preference.
In high school there was a girl with a gigantic mohawk. I never really knew her but I really liked her style. She disappeared soon after I met her until years later when we met again, her thinned out and newly styled, on the arm of a blonde. The blonde had that Roxette look, in that way that Roxette was once a sexy woman. We talked, for some reason I figured she was a hairdresser and asked her if she liked her job. She wasn't a hairdresser - she was a dominatrix and she was offended. They were going to another bar and wanted me to tag along. I let them leave without saying no thanks. Thinking I was following them horny and panting. Even then I knew, I just didn't know.
I've got it good.
My petunia.
My good puppy.
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