Many submissive men are also more passive or would feel more comfortableif a woman took control of the dating process, perhaps. In their perfectworld, the interested domina would do the calling, courting, tell himwhere she wants to go, and even reduce the agonizing "is it appropriateto buy gifts or flowers now?" dilema for men by saying flat out, "Youknow, I'd love it for you to bring me flowers tonight."
She may want your submission but to win the right to offer it when you are dating you may also need to be a traditionally attractive dating partner:
My first impression of you is that you are a woman deserving respect and only the best. That said I am sincerely hoping that through my interactions, I might show you that I am worthy of your time, affections and dominance.
a) If the Domme you are contacting is not looking for applications, respect this! You can write to her and tell her that you realise she isn't looking for applicants but that nonetheless you appreciate her profile and simply wanted to let her know. You can also ask her if she has time to or an interest in entertain a friendship with no strings attached. Do not be pushy! FYI: Dommes do not keep waiting lists of potentials so don't ask to be put on one. However if you are friends first she may take interest at a later date.
And then I just think of the people of Utah, in general. They say that Salt Lake is a great place to raise a family — and I know that sounds like something people just say. But you spend enough time here … and you realize that it’s true. And for me, as far as that goes — I feel like I’m indebted to Salt Lake, twice over. Because not only has this been the city where I’ve started my family, and not only has this been the city that’s helped raise my daughters for the last couple of years … but long before that, during my first few years in the league — I also feel like this city helped raise me. And I feel like this city took me in, as part of its own family.
At college, dormitory suites had single and double bedrooms. For three years, I lived in one bedroom crowded with everything I owned. During my senior year, I managed to secure a single suite: bedroom and sitting room and bath. At Oxford, I had two rooms to myself. Everybody did. Then I had fellowships. Then I wrote books. Finally, to my distaste, I had to look for a job. With my first wife–people married young back then; we were twenty and twenty-three–I settled in Ann Arbor, teaching English literature at the University of Michigan. I loved walking up and down in the lecture hall, talking about Yeats and Joyce or reading aloud the poems of Thomas Hardy and Andrew Marvell. These pleasures were hardly solitary, but at home I spent the day in a tiny attic room, working on poems. My extremely intelligent wife was more mathematical than literary. We lived together and we grew apart. For the only time in my life, I cherished social gatherings: Ann Arbor’s culture of cocktail parties. I found myself looking forward to weekends, to crowded parties that permitted me distance from my marriage. There were two or three such occasions on Friday and more on Saturday, permitting couples to migrate from living room to living room. We flirted, we drank, we chatted–without remembering on Sunday what we said Saturday night.
For five years I was alone again, but without the comfort of solitude. I exchanged the miseries of a bad marriage for the miseries of bourbon. I dated a girlfriend who drank two bottles of vodka a day. I dated three or four women a week, occasionally three in a day. My poems slackened and stopped. I tried to think that I lived in happy license. I didn’t.
Mr. I'll Do Anything, there are plenty of you out there. It is as if you are a legion of clones. Any dominant woman that responds to your email is apt to be a beginner. Within a month promises of being willing to do anything will only prove to her that she doesn't want anything to do with you.
Jane Kenyon was my student. She was smart, she wrote poems, she was funny and frank in class. I knew she lived in a dormitory near my house, so one night I asked her to housesit while I attended an hour-long meeting. (In Ann Arbor, it was the year of breaking and entering.) When I came home, we went to bed. We enjoyed each other, libertine liberty as much as pleasures of the flesh. Later I asked her to dinner, which in 1970 always included breakfast. We saw each other once a week, still dating others, then twice a week, then three or four times a week, and saw no one else. One night, we spoke of marriage. Quickly we changed the subject, because I was nineteen years older and, if we married, she would be a widow so long. We married in April, 1972. We lived in Ann Arbor three years, and in 1975 left Michigan for New Hampshire. She adored this old family house.
Are you a masochist or submissive? Most likely you are a bit of both. But there are pure masochists and sadists who only giggle at words like slave and Mistress.
Or is it really having your shopping list of tortures and humiliations filled that matters most to you? Many would disagree but there's no crime in that. But you need to be honest with yourself before you can be honest with the people you approach online.
While some Dommes are only looking for lifestyle slaves others seek play partners. You'll need to make sure you approach women whose desires complement yours.
Born in 1928, I was an only child. During the Great Depression, there were many of us, and Spring Glen Elementary School was eight grades of children without siblings. From time to time I made a friend during childhood, but friendships never lasted long. Charlie Axel liked making model airplanes out of balsa wood and tissue. So did I, but I was clumsy and dripped cement onto wing paper. His models flew. Later, I collected stamps, and so did Frank Benedict. I got bored with stamps. In seventh and eighth grade, there were girls. I remember lying with Barbara Pope on her bed, fully clothed and apart while her mother looked in at us with anxiety. Most of the time, I liked staying alone after school, sitting in the shadowy living room. My mother was shopping or playing bridge with friends; my father added figures in his office; I daydreamed.