Like many others, I hate assholes. I’m an enforcer, or ‘punisher’ personality, as they say, so I’ve come to terms with my own driving inclination, and at times, need, to take vigilante action against those I’ve perceived ‘doing wrong’ according to my own subjective morality. (That’s a crucial element, incidentally.) Of course, this was more of an issue in my adolescence. Eventually, I grew up; in doing so, I learned that there are a time and place for everything, and as much as I’d love to don skin-tight latex and set about punishing all of those men in the world that deserve it ( … hey, wait a minute … ) I have to accept that this is neither sane nor very feasible. (Though, what woman doesn’t occasionally fantasize about being a dominatrix superhero? I mean, I know I’m not alone in this.) All jesting aside, there are those less evolved and immature enforcer types who’ve not yet gotten the memo. Recently, I had the (mis)fortune of briefly working with of them. Now, I may be opportunistic when it comes to flexing my own punisher-muscle, but I’m hardly petty. So, names will be omitted to protect the guilty. (The very, very guilty.) Our story begins on a typical day — of course, for a pro-domme, that could be anything. He contacted me in the usual way, and I gave the benefit of the doubt, despite such fantastical nature of his claims. Plus, it’s always a bonus when they can spell correctly and utilize proper grammar. (Of course, so could Ted Bundy. Moving on.) Well, I was intrigued, although I can’t say I really wanted to work with him. Something felt… off. So much so that I contacted a friend of mine, the lovely Guinevere the Severe out of NYC, who heard my concerns and gave wonderful advice which supported my own suspicions: it really didn’t matter what everything else seemed; if I felt even the slightest bit off, it was hardly worth the money from the business transaction. So, I kept that in mind and proceeded with caution. So far so good. He was a bit paranoid about some things, and so it took longer for me to receive his payment, as it always does when it’s sent through sail mail. And, though I was sick as a dog the day of our scheduled appointment with no other channel but the site on which we’d met to make contact, I kept the appointment and muddled through as best as could, with my migraine pounding as I tried to enjoy something that would hopefully settle my stomach and keep up my blood sugar (as both tend to get a bit wonky when you’re ill). It sort of worked. I paid enough attention to determine he was actually being truthful (as far as he was aware; if he was lying, he himself believed it) and gain some background information on this guy I secretly had little desire to be meeting, no less begin an intensive business relationship. Why intensive? You see, he wanted a chastity sentence, and for me to be holding the key. Now, that’s nothing. It’s his reasons for desiring it, and his claims for his need of it, which are, at most, blog-worthy. In professional domination terms, it was sold to me as a fairly straightforward deal: guy wants chastity. Lock him up, hold the key, and do whatever I choose, or he wants to fulfill his fantasies, in the meanwhile — part of the fantasy being the constant threat of his looming chastity sentence being extended. (I’m sure he whacked it numerous times to that alone.) Ah! But wait… there’s more! (There’s always more.) To spare you the ridiculous details, and the grueling snail’s pace at which they were presented to me, I’ll lay it all out for you in a nice bulleted list. Bear in mind, of course, that this is what was presented to me, not what I believe to be legitimate. (We’ll get into all of that later.) He’s an incurable, narcissistic, misogynistic asshole (okay, that I believe) whose only recourse is to allow himself to be made chaste which, in his opinion, renders him entirely harmless and at the mercy of all the women upon which he would otherwise prey. He seeks chastity primarily to save his non-consensual slave (who he had consistently blackmailed, raped, and has otherwise owned for the last couple of months) from further abuse, humiliation, torture, and harm until their negotiated terms have been resolved, although, he does not seek for his chastity sentence to extend to this date, but rather hopes that ‘a couple of weeks will be enough to kick him back inline’. Although he acknowledges a degree of selfishness in his vigilante behavior toward this woman, believing himself to be punishing her deservedly, he sought my counsel and services out of fear that he was unable to control himself, and that his absolute power had, indeed, corrupted him absolutely. Once his chastity sentence has concluded, or the time in which she is indebted to him has resolved, (whichever was to come first) she would voluntarily sever all ties with him and extricate herself from their shared resources and communities, barring future correspondence or involvement. He made no attempt to even slightly lessen or disguise his outright misogyny or blatant narcissism, constantly referring to this woman as ‘the bitch’ or expressing what a terrible person she was, and how she no doubt deserved all of the horrible treatment she was getting from him. Funny thing was, like some narcissists, he didn’t entirely believe it. Rather than spreading out, holding his head high, and stating her abuse in an almost casual manner, he spoke of it with genuine pleasure, but a bit guiltily. He kept searching for my approval; wanting me to confirm his wavering belief that ‘this bitch deserved everything she got.’ He didn’t like it when I gave little to no indication what I thought of his story, and would neither support nor negate his claims. He was a deeply secretly dependent person and didn’t like floundering on his own. But then any man who dreams of submission, but struggles with narcissism as the result of a compensatory inferiority complex, is going to be contending with some very severe cognitive dissonance. No doubt, he projected most of what he hates of himself on to this woman, and vicariously abused himself. No narcissist can do this for too long. Of course, he wants to appear noble in my eyes, since I was to be the one providing what he so desired. (That is, if he even knew what he was really seeking to do. It may have never once entered his conscious mind.) Rather than admit to wanting to stop the self-abuse, he had to play the punisher card, and claim it was for the betterment of his slave — who deserved it, of course. He was just looking to be merciful. It would be unfortunate if he was aware of what was really going on and instead chose not to tell me. That kind of honesty would have almost made me want to consider continuing to work with him. So, the next few days were not fun for me. I was ill, bed-ridden for an entire day the following day, and had to move all of my appointments to the start of next week. He was to email me directly, rather than through the website, following our conversation, which he did. I found it curious that one with a full-time job was able to be so casual about returning to work and being able to email me minutes after we had parted company, but perhaps my work ethic differs from his, and vice versa. I noticed the email coming through and made a mental note to address them when I was well, which wasn’t for another three days, at least. So that by the time I was able, I had multiple messages — some providing information I had requested, and others simply carrying on about the situation; specifically, seeking to appeal to me for a lesser chastity sentence. When I wasn’t responding, he began to assume that I really didn’t find what he was doing to be all that bad, (hah!) and that, clearly, this woman was deserving of everything she was getting (yeah, right!) Now, I already knew given his narcissism that he wasn’t at all bothering to read me, and since he feared my silence indicated something having to do with him, (can you believe it?) he began to replay our meeting in his head and come up with all manner of erroneous assumptions based upon what he had inaccurately recalled. Since I was not responding, and he wasn’t receiving what he wanted (some sort of abuse from me, stating what an awful person he was and how severely he needed to be punished for these transgressions) I was finally feeling up to answering his messages and tried to respond to everything he had sent over the course of the last few days. I was honest and responded in kind. They were getting progressively weird, and that vibe was starting to come through once again, even stronger this time, so I decided one of two things would happen: he was legitimate and would respond sincerely, or he was going to insist upon playing games, try and consistently manipulate the situation, constantly speculate about me and why I wasn’t in contact with him on a daily basis, and lash out as a result of the implied rejection, behaving juvenilely, cruelly, and making it seem as if our failed business arrangement was his idea, and he was responsible for ending it. Can you guess which happened? Ding-ding-ding! Rather than truly begin handing over the control so that we could start work together, he responded maliciously, hurling vile insults and snide remarks, letting the misogyny and filth that permeates his personality fly without further thought — going far beyond polite decline, or childish rudeness. To wit: You’re not much of a strategist. Oh, if he only knew. You should have saved your abuse until you had achieved control and there was nothing much I could do about it. Instead, you have shown your hand while I still have a choice, and it seems obvious that it would be a mistake to give you that kind of power. And this is just a little bit funny; see, even when I should show my hand, I still have trouble with doing so. In short, I never show my hand. So, just as an FYI, if you think you’ve seen it — be wary. You’re only seeing what I want you to. For that matter, who knows what you’re seeing? As for what I have done to [blackmailed woman], it may be coercion but it isn’t rape. She does, after all, have a choice, albeit not a pleasant one. Not a pleasant one! Well, I’ll say! I suspect he has no idea of what being blackmailed feels like. Had he, well, perhaps his actions would reflect that knowledge. Unfortunately, he remains a jackass. Now, onto examining point #2: ‘it may be coercion, but it isn’t rape.’ I’ve already suggested he buy a dictionary with the mounds of money he claims to have at his fingertips, but for demonstration, here’s the official word from the OED: RAPE: v. force (another person) to have sexual intercourse with him against their will. Oh, lookit that! Force. What’s a great synonym for ‘force’, boys and girls? How about ‘coerce‘? That’s a pretty fucking good one. So, unsurprisingly, he’s very, very wrong in his assertion of not raping this woman, but merely ‘coercing’ her. There is a choice in an act of coercion, but coercion is rape. In fact, there have been acts of defined rape which don’t even involve coercion, but rather an obliviousness, or where the choice was impaired. It’s still rape. So, where were we? Oh, yes… he continues to repeatedly rape this woman. And, according to his bizarre, self-absorbed, violent misogynist view of the world… I did not realize, but I’m afraid that you too are the type who would benefit from some of that treatment. Obviously, you need a cock up your ass to realize that you aren’t quite as superior as you seem to think. It won’t be mine, but I do hope that someone does it. Yeah. I’m not kidding. Fucker actually said that — typed those words to me. Saying I need to be anally raped. That I’m ‘the type’ — whatever that means. (He and my ex seem to have something in common.) I’m used to this coming from woman-hating, using, and abusing cocksuckers (and, you know, not in a good subby-boy kind of way) such as himself, but it surprises me just a bit every time. Not to mention such words coming from a narcissist are supremely laughable. I love how he adds ‘it won’t be his’ — like that was ever an option. It’s little doubt that his slave hates every minute of him savagely raping her. You might say he falls into that ‘not if you were the last man on earth’ sort of category. Were it up to me, I’d let the race die. Now, he’s decided to pout, as a result of my rejection: So, I’m not going to put up with either counseling or chastity from you. I cannot trust you and have no intention of surrendering to you, although I think your dominance is mostly theoretical. I guess that was supposed to hurt. Or something. People do strange things when their egos’ are wounded. Keep the money, since I have no means by which to recover it. I’ll write it off to education. Money was always your primary goal, and you got some, for very little effort and should, therefore be pleased. He was correct in his assessment of really not being able to recover it, outside of receiving a refund, which I would have given, had he asked. Though, it wouldn’t be much. He’d already spent most of it. Money was hardly my goal; I just can’t stand people who aren’t serious about their self-improvement, and I told him that. Easy come easy go. But I knew he’d be a problem. I was just hoping it wouldn’t waste too much of my time. Score one for intuition. I guess M and Guinevere were right: trust the vibe. It’s never wrong.