Wednesday, August 8, 2007

Windmills

If the weather permits, i usually like to spend my lunch hour outside, sitting on a bench that positions me in a well-trafficked corridor of this bustling part of the city. I constantly scan the currents of pedestrians for the female components dressed in their flashiest, hippest urban professional wear. For some reason that i deem remarkably masochistic, these girls who do more walking than their suburban counterparts universally insist on wearing high heels. I don't complain. I've always enjoyed watching how a female's anatomy responds to the hitch an elevated heel manifests in their step. But these are mere distractions from the real psychology operating in my head.

I see a girl sitting across from me on a bench, and i feel an immediate compulsion to dominate. I want to grab her stare with my eyes, draw out a long sigh from her mouth as she feels herself slowly slip into trance. She may, in the middle of this illusion, decide to get up. It doesn't matter. The next one will come along soon. Sometimes i feel almost clinical, like i'm observing them through glass. Happy to do so, i'm taking detailed notes of their behavior, noting how similar they act as a gender, learning from their body language, recognizing patterns. I find that i can get quite lost in these examinations.

But why females? I'm very very curious as to why the dominance of the female body is so enthralling. It's not simply because they have a cunt. Or tits. I'm not even thinking of that when i glance at them and quickly commute them to a sentence of intense bondage. Rather i'm admiring their small wrists, their lithe necks, the way they can press their chins into their shoulders to indicate interest. I'm imagining the sum of all of these parts bound and pleading. And it happens a hundred times a day.

The girl behind the Starbucks counter who hands me my coffee. I smile at her. I seek to make her blush. I'll read her name off her nametag, tell her how beautiful i find it, then just grin at her. I know, as i'm doing this, i want to hold a momentary place in her day like a shudder, a tingle, a chill.

The girl i pass on the sidewalk, turning the corner instead of keeping straight like me. She'll flip around briefly to see if i've stopped shadowing her, but not out of fear. She sensed that i was observing her from behind, non-threateningly, and yet, still somewhat predatorily. She briefly considers playing the game.

I'll walk the platform of the subway. Travelling to a point where i know i need to stand, and i'll pass a girl waiting for the opposite train, going in the opposite direction. She'll turn her face towards me, see me smiling, and she'll bashfully offer me a smile back. A genuine smile. A smile that says "Alright, so you caught me this moment. So, i'll smile back, but only because i'm going in the opposite direction."

Or the girl who comes onto the train, once i've caught mine, at the next stop. She looks around before she sits. My antennae lift into the air. I sense a female presence. I peer at her, waiting for her eyes to fall upon me as she scans her immediate vicinity. I hold her gaze, until she sits down and recoils into herself. We will do this several times. I will keep my head turned at her, waiting for her to look my way, only to sustain the stare. Not letting it fizzle. Making her stand behind her glance and not back away from it. The intensity of the energy that builds here between two strangers is incredible. But it goes nowhere.

I do not want to dominate the entire female gender. Nor is my mind conjuring up these images because i want a conquest between the sheets. Yet, my body's reaction to these girls seems to betray that notion. My dominant side asserts itself as if it were the one in control, not i, the consulate. It is hard to describe, but the dominant facet of my personality doesn't want sex as prominently as it wants control. Control of the beautiful female entity. Control over me. It happens, constantly. A hundred times a day. I'm surrounded by this feminine energy that i want to, in small ways, conquer - to saturate it with my desires, my needs, my impulses.

16 comments:

Ani said...

You neglected to mention another one of the ways in which you assert your dominance over the female mind: enthralling words.

Mae said...

This is an incredible look into the mind of a strong male dominant and I am enthralled.

Society often teaches us to be afraid of this, to deny this part of ourselves, be it dominant or submissive. I think it's wonderful your so connected to it, trying to understand it, accepting of it's place in your life.

Your words resonate well with longings in me that are deep and primal. I hope someday to find the words to express these feelings but for now, thank you for expressing yours.

Richard said...

Excellent post.

I love the way submissive women signal their willingness to be hunted...

Anonymous said...

oh my goodness......what a description of Your Daily Dominate ritual...... so very interesting!

acquiescent

Anonymous said...

Do men like Richard assume all women are made in the submissive mould and are waited to be hunted?

If only all dominant men had the respect for women that Deity has. You love women, you adore them, you worship them as they worship you. You are enthralled by them and you go about it the right way. It never comes off like you're sleazily eyeing these women up, making them uncomfortable. In fact, you come across like an old fashioned respectful gentleman.

Personally, I would relish a blog written by your Barbie, telling her side of the story. Please consider asking her to do this.

Farmwife said...

This is funny - sometimes I find myself being similar to you in some ways. Kinda forceful and molding a vanilla partner to my specifications. I, too, enjoy preying on passersby or people in a store, only I prey on men, obviously. Having an easy time capturing male attention because of how I look, I enjoy to smile and flirt from a distance with a stare, and all that. Because of that, it's amazing how many men are constantly drawn to gently flirt with me pretty much wherever I go. Obviously, I am not interested in pursuing that beyond this innocent flirting.

Pixiepie said...

I am amazed at your words...your honesty and your open admiration for women.

Venus said...

An honest post and much appreciated. Brief yet, speaks forever of many and more things...

Deity said...

ani,
you make me glow. thank you.

mae,
it has been a long, and obssesive struggle. it warms me to know that i may benefit others from sharing the fruits of that.

richard,
thank you. very excellent of you to pop in. you have a wonderful site.

acquiescent,
i can only hope it's interesting to all the girls who see me stare at their legs and choice of shoes.

anon,
wish you had a name. don't like typing "anon". i am indeed old fashioned to a fault. that's what's so funny about me writing in this digital form.

amber,
you ole flirt you, stirring up the overalls of kind wheat farmers.

pixiepie,
i do adore women, sometimes to my detriment. nice hearing from you.

venus,
you wished i'd written more? Goodness, i thought i'd written a ton as it is. in fact, i tend to assume i write too long anyway.

persephone said...

i can relate to this idea of everything being about the control, not the sex. so many other things, little things, some like the ones you describe (although from the opposite viewpoint of course) are so much more compelling than sex.

milla said...

I have vivid flashes of you fully dressed in futuristic military uniform stalking naked shapely women through (the new) Battlestar Galactica style streets post nuclear apocalypse.

I too like to watch people. Men, women, all kinds. I like to imagine them in various postures, forms, dress, positions. I like to wonder who they are, what they wish for, what they enjoy.

It's nice to be hunted down.
milla

His pet said...

Amazing and informative as usual. i am quite sure that these women can feel your dominance even from a distance. i find myself stared at often and there is a big difference in the bold, apprasing stares of the dominant man and the fumbling glances of others. The dominant man doesn't look away quickly, no he holds my gaze until it is i that glances away, embarrassed to have dared hold his look for so long. i blush, look down, bite my bottom lip and sometimes touch my hair (not sure why). There is often a thunderous pounding of my heart instead of the amused disinterest i feel with all the others.

Oops...i started babbling in your comments. Sorry! i'll hush right after i thank you for being so open with your brilliant musings.

Thank you!!

brooke

littlegirl said...

when i feel a man staring at me, i almost never even try to hold his gaze. i immediately drop my eyes, and (like brooke noted, oddly) flip my hair. i would rather he look without challenge.

i'm not sure what that signals on your end. do you notice that some women look right back at you, and some don't? do you make determinations about them based on these subconscious behaviors?

Deity said...

meg,
So much more compelling than sex. They go on. The release that sex provides is scintillating, but these kinds of games and flirtations last much longer. It's interesting that things usually trend towards ending in sex rather than the other way around.

Why is that, i wonder?

milla,
i'm sorry to say i've never seen the show. i'm sure your projection is quite accurate.

puppy,
i have no problem with you rambling here. I take ultimate authority in moderating these comments, and allow those that are fitting and important. Where i live and work, few of the girls display much shyness, but they all - every one of them - look away first.

lg,
the other day, as i was waiting on the platform for the train, i was hovering around a group of girls that i found intriguing. I was looking at them as i was reading my periodical. My train arrived, and i got on, positioning myself right at the window. One of them stared in, and i held her glance for at least a minute, and finally, she looked away. Without a doubt, i can guarantee this girl had submissive leanings.

jayne said...

Deity,
eye contact is so interesting. Several feet from any man, that i don't know, i loose eye contact. But i don't know if this is because i am submissive or whether it is an innate defensive measure common to all females of the species, especially if they are already taken.

Anonymous said...

One of my most delightful conversations of recent memory was with a man over finger sandwiches - the debate and tasting of the egg filling. The unrelenting sparkling eyes and slight invasion into my personal space made it such a treat.