Archive for masculinity

How to Attract the Attention of a Dominant Male

Posted in Nonfiction with tags , , , , , on July 5, 2009 by scarlettbottom

Social dominance is a fascinating topic. I wrote in my personal journal that I really only like to date alpha males and I got a question: what is the definition of “alpha male,” to my mind?

An alpha male is a socially dominant male, who displays the confidence and natural leadership ability associated with such a position. “Alpha” is a condition that can be natural or learned, but natural dominants are generally more successful because they have a sense of entitlement. Yes, of course they should make a lot of money. They deserve it. Yes, they should have the prettiest trophy wife. They deserve it. Yes, they should drive the conversation; they’re the only one qualified. Yes, they should pick up the check; they’re only being gracious to their many loyal followers.

It’s not enough to be aggressive and confident. One cannot come off as cocky, it has to look natural. Charismatic, not bossy. And one must make one’s friends feel like they’re basking in one’s limelight. Sort of like royalty. The courtiers (aka submissives) of Louis XIV didn’t feel put upon. They were ecstatic to be in the presence of one so majestic.

Like I mentioned, socially dominant males can be made, too. These are non-dominant males, who, through a stroke of genius or luck, have either acquired the trappings of dominance (a nice car, a pretty girl, a high-paying job), have stumbled into a social group that has no dominant, or a group that has somehow lost their dominant (usually through a power struggle).

Now it’s a little different for a socially dominant female. Socially dominant females gather their own social subs also, but they also gather dominant males. They do this by being attractive as a trophy (being pretty, or equally high-status) or by being the most interesting item around (being funny, or stylish, or super intelligent). As Styrn often points out to me, I lack a lot of the “typical” female behavior of standing around looking pretty and hoping for the time of day.

I am a socially dominant female.

The other night I went to a bondage/dance club. It’s a regular club here in the city. I was watching the bondage pit; there wasn’t much going on initially, but as I watched for a while, it started to fill up and get more interesting. Finally, I got up the nerve to try to get the fellow’s attention who was running everything. He’s a prime example of a dominant.

How was I going to manage getting his attention? He was obviously so busy. Without a plan, I stood in the entrance to the pit. Some serious drama was going to be necessary to stand out from the crowd of admirers. He approached the place where I was standing, totally unaware of my presence. He glanced at me- here’s my chance- and I dropped to my knees. My full skirt billowed out around me. (Got him!) He held out his hand to me; I placed my hand in his without rising. “What is your name?”

“Scarlett.” (A whisper from the onlookers: *gasp* “Like Scarlett O’Hara!”)

A feminine blush. “I wondered if you’d dom me?” Look down, look up.

“I’d love to, but I don’t have time right now. Are you going to the club on Friday?” He lifts me to my feet.

He wrote me a free pass with his phone number and email.

Putting his arm around my waist, he asked me about what I’d like, what sort of play I’m interested in. “I’d love to see you Friday. if I don’t have time, I’ll definitely make sure you’re taken care of. I’ve seen a lot of inexperienced girls get hurt, and I want to make sure that doesn’t happen to you.” He hands me the pass with a run-along motion. This guy is a smooth talker. He knows all the right moves.



Posted in Fiction with tags , , , on June 30, 2009 by scarlettbottom

Many of the bdsm blogs that I read are written by people who are in “lifestyle” bdsm relationships. They live their (dominant or submissive) role 24/7, and very likely they live with their partner. I think a relationship like that sounds idyllic. I would love to be a stay-at-home wife/sub.

The primary thing that appeals to me about that situation is the extremely structured gender roles. Now, it doesn’t necessarily have to be a biologically male person filling the masculine role and vice versa, but regardless of the sex of the individuals involved, the hard and fast gender rules are still in place.

Styrn suggested we have a game night. Like inviting a bunch of people over to play cards and serving little snacks. Maybe have a movie on in the background. I immediately thought, “That sounds like something out of Mad Men” and a serious throwback to the 1950s/early 60s. The little wife in the kitchen making tiny, perfect little morsels and pouring drinks, serving them to her husband’s guests. Maybe the card players are smoking cigarettes. They probably ignore the wife after a thank you and a nod. Sitting around the table, I imagine that the testosterone is palpable, and as pervasive as the cigarette smoke.

This scene reminds me of a story I read a very long time ago. I think the “little girl” comparison is pretty inevitable when it comes to female submissives. In this story, Baby comes down the stairs to find her daddy; he’s playing poker with his buddies. Daddy’s friends fuck Baby on the poker table, sweeping chips out of the way, cards scattered everywhere. I find the chaos of the scene utterly romantic.

So does the wife sit on her husband’s knee while he plays? Does he shoo her out of the room? Does she eavesdrop? Maybe she waits on her knees for her next command, or maybe her elbows are bound behind her back and all she can do is hold the serving tray…

Endangered Species

Posted in Nonfiction with tags , , on June 29, 2009 by scarlettbottom

This last weekend was Pride here, as it was all around the world. I spent a good part of yesterday looking at all of the many many photos of happy couples and angry revolutionaries around the world with tears in my eyes.

I didn’t go to the parade, but I did go to the Dykes on Bikes the day before, all dolled up, looking for a cute butch lesbian. I was heavily disappointed (I knew they were a dying breed). There was one exception.

While walking the route behind the (very sexy) motorcyles, I popped into a liquor store to buy a soda. I opened the glass door of the refrigerator, took what I wanted, and as I was about the close the door, what should I see through it? A perfect vision. Dressed in slacks, a white undershirt, and suspenders, she noticed my surprise and tipped her hat. Then her femme appeared behind her.

All the good ones are taken.