The Unfairest of Them All

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I am a beautiful, bewitching, magnificent, delightful, beautiful, gorgeous, elegant, beautiful, incredible, attractive superior domina goddessessess: as soon as you see me in my magnificence you will have no choice but to submit.

You’re not on the wrong blog, btw. That was satire.

But it’s pretty much what you get on many of the multiple and myriad websites dedicated to off-the-peg pro-am femdom.

Dominant women are beautiful. And that’s why the guy gets on his knees. That is what he worships. Her beauty.

I don’t just mean in porn - I mean the whole ’story’ of femdom runs along these lines.

It’s pretty interesting that, where men have decided to allow women to have ‘power’ for their own wanky needs, that this is the kind of power they choose to give her. The power of being desired. A completely passive power.

And I’ve told you before dominant sexuality is all about *desiring*. Dominant sexuality is active – not passive.

*Wanting* not being wanted.

*Demanding* not being demanded.

But the beautiful Amazon thing is woven into the fabric of femdom (black PVC – since you ask).

Prodoms play this trope the most. Amateurs do too of course, but you can’t have failed to notice that prodoms are always *beautiful*. It says so on their websites. (They’re all always models too. This is, like, the law, or something.)

This particular beauty myth - it’s the whole *dominatrix* industry really. That fucking web of misogyny. It’s wrapped in this your-pretty-is-your-worth shit. The way prodom/fetish modelling/fetish art/fetish fucking cabaret twists my sexuality to fit it into their saleable-commodity box, by telling me it’s about beauty, still hurts me over and over though.

Why yes. It’s this. Again.

My sexuality being stolen from me, repackaged as something totally offensive and then sold for someone else’s profit at the expense of my dignity and sexual freedom, what should I do? Say nothing? As my one little beacon of truth – my tiny attempt at explaining how this stuff really feels – vanishes under a tidal wave of lies and glorified stunt-cunt-sadism and stupid fucking shoes.

I’m not going to let it go in the name of kinky glamarama and sequins falling like rain. Everything is not okay under the glitter. Okay?

One of the ways sexual minorities (and women in particular) are oppressed is by not being allowed control of their own sexualised images.

The images of dominant women that prevaricate are not authored by dom women (don’t bother starting a ‘true dom’ exchange with me – in fact, fuck OFF).

Having your sexuality marginalised, confiscated, having your voice silenced, having your sexual fantasies and your sexual reality locked up in a box because it is *so* *fucking* *scary* and replaced by media-friendly/man-friendly/dick-hardening imagery that makes you cry and cry and try and hold your heart back together with your bare hands because you really don’t know what you ever did to make the world hate you so much, is just sexual oppression.

Here’s how it works:

Women who have sex with other women are scary, so TPTB undermines them by erasing their reality and replacing them with this.

Women who are sexually dominant are scary, so TPTB undermines them by erasing their reality and replacing them with this.

(I know, I know, three of them are in collars and one is wearing wrist cuffs. (True, some of them are labelled as “submissive/dominatrix” – but that scarcely helps.) I love that the people who steal my sexual identity care about it so fucking much. Perhaps we should pause here to ask: Are prodoms *really* dominant? It’s a meaningless question really, isn’t it? Especially when you see a bunch of women who so obviously understand it’s most complex nuances so deeply.)

Also, yeah, funny how the female sexualities that are so-fucking-scary (dykes ‘n’ doms) are also the ones that seem to top the male fantasy chart. Don’t ask me why that should be. Ask a man, if you can stop him wanking long enough – actually there are these devices you can get…

Yez –the dominatrix. ‘The whip-wielding she-devil of the male bottom’s deepest dreams‘. (That quote is not from a cheesy website, btw, it is from a modern BDSM anthology from a right-on publisher. *That’s* how ingrained this trope is. It’s unquestioned and everywhere. He’s desiring. She’s totally fucking passive. She might have a whip - but she’s not a *person* in her own right - she’s the product of his dreams.)

My name is Bitchy Jones. This is the story of how I died.

Of how my sexuality was stolen from me by a bunch of profiteering men and prettyish catalogue models. Who then told me I couldn’t play because submissive men would only submit to a magnificent goddess.

I know some other way-cool female doms who don’t get bothered by stuff like I do. They shrug and walk away. I don’t. I must be missing some kind of tough outer casing that most doms have. The other day I saw this fucking thing online – a film of a fem!dom! stage show – and I felt so disenfranchised from my own sexuality that it made me cry.

There was this dom woman in the full domme-drag: black shiny catsuit, tight pony tail and lovely I-can’t-smile-or-my-clown-make-up-will-crack face.

And she had a strap on. Not even a nice one. One that looked like a big vile veiny cock. (And I *like* *cock* - but, you know, a real man’s cock is a genuine special miracle the way it can be so fucking ugly and so damn beautiful at the same time. Make the same thing out of plastic and it just doesn’t work.) It looked like something from a joke shop.

And she was doing a stage show with her slave - all sexay.

And her slave was a woman, naturally. Because only women are interesting to look at sexually. Jesus. Hello, is that the speaking clock, yes could I check what year it is?

(While we’re on this subject, can I just ask what would happen if a celebrated, right-on antho of serious writing about sexuality maybe thought for one fucking second about putting sexaulised *masculine* imagery on it’s cover. Would the world *ex-fucking-spolde*?)

In the show, she bends her over and makes like fucky-fuck, except she’s really clearly, just pushing it between slavo’s legs and they’re both making big O-mouth faces like it’s so motherfucking horny that beautiful Mistress is making slave-girl bend over before the almighty power of (veiny plastic) COCK….

(See, now, when I complain about strap-ons, it’s not *you* - it’s stuff like this.)

I don’t often link directly to things I’m offended by, but, by Christ, I want you to see what this woman has strapped to her feet.

When I look at this stuff, I feel like I’m the dumpy speccy kid at school and the older prettier girls have taken something from me and they’re throwing it around out of my reach and laughing.

Give it back! Give it back! Give my sexuality back!

Stop, stop! You’re getting it all dirty! You’re breaking it! You’re ruining it! Give it back! It’s mine!

Please, please. Just give it back! …I know you’re prettier than me and you have more social cache. And you’re making easy money. And, yeah, why should you stop? Except that it’s mine. And you’re hurting me. And it would be the right thing to do.

Oh, yes, of course, I forgot the part where you were an evil sadistic bitch. Yes, I can hear your amusing sadistic cackle. It’s very good. No, you’re right, I don’t do sadist-laughter. I’m more likely to burst into tears, if you must know. My dominasty powers were mistakenly made of hand blown glass – due to an administrative error.

This kind of campy dominatrixy drag act makes me feel small and bad inside. I feel ashamed to *be* *like* these women and ashamed that I don’t measure up to them too.

But I understand capitalism. Nothing stops while everyone gets paid. Money is more important than people. I know.

I’m pretty damn certain that this war is over. And I already lost.

See, I’m not beautiful.

Here is the truth. Here is me. I thought, for a long time, even after meeting Pan and doing all the things we did together, that I couldn’t really be a dom because I was not beautiful.

I didn’t think I was allowed to play.

And if you want to know why I have never felt comfortable in the scene as a dominant woman – well, it’s that.

Still is, actually.

I am not beautiful enough to have a man submit to me. And that makes me ashamed of how fucking much I want it.

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