My Niece loves The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I refuse to ruin her disney-colored world. I was sitting in the living room and considered the last week of my life. Because of my niece, the phrase Topsy Turvey entered my vocabulary and now comes to mind. I can be a domineering bastard. I think in some ways it comes with the territory. I am not a small man, 6ft 6 without shoes. I usually tower over most women. For some women it is a turn on. Women who are not accustomed to feel dainty and small next to a man. Under most circumstances, my size has been an advantage. Again for tall and curvy subs, it is a turn on. I thought that was an advantage this week, trying to help a couple friends, it turns out, not everyone sees my Domination as a good thing.
So, I admit that two women have me rethinking things. The one that threw herself in my bed (not a bad thing) and the one that locked me in her garage, (not sure if this is good or bad). It's complicated. One completely compliant, her tall frame, her dark hair, dark eyes soft curves, a complete delight. The other a tiny fury, a fire haired hell cat who's every look states in the royal plural, "We are not amused". For a moment, the idea was pitched to have them both, sister subs. Either one of them would have been a prize, I got greedy I guess. When the offer fell apart, I was happy to have my dark flower. I will be happy to train her and nurture her. She wants to surrender giving me complete control. I like that, it is in my wheelhouse.
However, the same approach with the hellcat could not have gone more wrong. I thought I could make her feel safe. She saw it as bullying. Like a lot of Doms of a certain age, (all of you guys that fell in love with Gor, I am looking at you) we bought into the willful woman being brought to her knees, unbroken and being trained, prized and treasured. We accept that most subs want to serve. They are again prized and treasured. I am not sure the little hellcats Dom knew what to do with her. I sure as hell don't. I do know my attempt to make her feel safe, infuriated her. I do know that my need to protect her and care for her became a less than desirable event. An event that ended with her standing on one side of door and me on the other. When she tossed her head and said, "I will let you out when you say you can be a good boy." I was confused. Shit like this only happens in those bodice ripping smut books. She's sick, I want to care for her. It is my life's calling.
But there I was, unsure if I wanted to strangle her or fuck her. Interesting, because I was supposed to be helping her. I don't think it was a desire to submit to this tiny terror. It was the overwhelming need to possess her. Is it just me or are brats maddening? Is she really a brat? Have I met my match. Do not get me wrong, I am enjoying the dark flower in my bed. The marks on her wrists from her struggling against the restraints says that. The sensual smile that greeted me says that. This is not a closed relationship, its not a collaring relationship- it is still open, play partners. I appreciate her and she is enjoying that. There are no expectations. I am good with that, its early in the experience.
The topsy turvey is, could I use a different approach with the hellcat? Do I let it go? Do appreciate her spirit from afar? Do I just decided she is not my type? It is a lot to consider and I am still rethinking the way I handle things. Remember, it is just my opinion, I could be wrong.