You can’t learn to be a sly dominant. You have to be born that way.

I’ve never won an argument with my friend, Batman. I’m a smart woman. I still can’t best him in a word battle. This isn’t because he’s more intelligent than me. It’s because I let him win.

What? It’s true. I am definitely the cleverest half of our friendship.

I totally am.

Not.

When I’m sparring with Batman, I have to put an immense amount of effort into every attack. I tell myself this is going to be the one time I actually win, but then he uses his pinkie finger to throw me off a cliff.

It’s downright undignified.

It’s also my favourite kink. I don’t much care if you can tie a futo or make a flogger. Such things can be learned in classes. You can’t learn the skill of intelligence. You’re either born with it or you aren’t. If you aren’t, that’s it. You’re fucked, so when I find a Batman, I hold onto him. You can’t learn to be a sly dominant. This skill has to be inherent in your character.

It’s the black diamond of Planet BDSM.

I need a man who can best me in a word battle with one sparkly eye that says, “I see you and your bullshit. I love your bullshit, but I’m still not letting you get away with it.” That’s what my brat-hood is made of: An appreciation for men who can slice me in two pieces with their sly insistence that they know me better than I know myself.

I don’t want rope. I want mindfuckery. If you’re good at the latter, your jute will be an extension of your evil brain, so I can appreciate a little bondage if it comes from the right place. If it isn’t an extension of your slyness, though, it has no power over me. Sorry. I can put myself in rope. I don’t require this skill from others. What I require is slyness.

Batman knows me far too well. He probably knows exactly who I’m talking about in this post. I’m the most transparent pane of glass he’s ever seen, and that, folks, is what kink greatness is made of.

The traditional Zulu greeting is translated as, “I see you.”

The response is, “I am here.”

I want to be seen. I want to feel unerringly here. I want my brains pulled out of a hole in my head and then tied into knots. If you don’t think that sounds like fun, you just don’t know what’s good for you.

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