Diary of the Bratpup

It is always a curious thing seeing humans interact with one another in some strange code. I've never been privy to most of it and usually when I learn it I disregard it; because more often than not it is a rule to avoid discomfort and truths we don't enjoy. 

When I read messages from potential doms I match the respect, energy and tone they do for the most part. Especially if they show disdain for women in general when that is the very thing they are attracted to. Or rather, our bodies. Yes, tits, ass, cunt, vulgarities reserved for porn categories. These body parts and objectification of them induce a neuro-chemical con job that deludes them to cruelty instead of erotic play. 

Even I, notedly having some of the more fucked up fantasies and depraved thoughts of a wannabe fuckdoll or bimbo don't hate myself. I learned early in kink that I love myself; and use kink as a playground. I refuse to simplify a dom into cock, his body- honestly his body has little to do with it at the end of the day. His mind, affection, intellect and care matter more. Self objectification and treating myself like a toy in progress is rewarding because I tend to myself like a garden, well played in and wild but likely adored; decorated with flower hair clips, cute colors. Yes, and of course- with many toys to be found nearby. I expect doms to tend that garden as well. 

Somebody messaged me: " What makes you think you are some prize?" 

The crime to receive this unremarkable yet simply cruel question? 
I said I wasn't interested. His first message was a low effort one liner and his bio filled with deeply worrying red flags like a beach at riptide.

Of course there was a grim and somewhat witty reply- I do bite.Though honestly I worry deeply for these men- or women who have this mentality.
I'll offer this from A Little Princess: 

"Don’t tell me you still fancy yourself a princess? Child, look around you! Or better yet, look in the mirror."
"I am a princess. All girls are. Even if they live in tiny old attics. Even if they dress in rags, even if they aren’t pretty, or smart, or young. They’re still princesses. All of us. Didn’t your father ever tell you that? Didn’t he?" 

Regardless of age, gender identity, race- 
This will always be my sentiment. You already are worth so much more than the bare minimum.If you are acting like Miss Minchin, or the man of no station or standing- maybe consider that the girl you are speaking to is loveable, and so are you. Act accordingly. Or don't. I'm just a princess.