First off, a word about ‘alpha females‘; before diving into a subject, you need to know the vernacular.

I see this one a lot: on various websites of professional dommes — as well as Animal Planet. It seems like a strong means of advertising. It’s when they claim that it’s actuality — a component of their everyday existence — that I find myself … less than accepting.

So, I ask myself: how many of these ‘alpha females’ are actually dominant women? Plenty — and I mean, plenty — of pro-dommes are submissive in their personal life. (Why? Because there’s money in femdom for those enterprising beautiful people who are savvy enough to play a role 24/7 and not lose themselves.) Knowing this simple fact, however, I find myself always just a bit suspicious of those websites which tout such a thing to be the way it actually is.

One reason I love to get to know pro-dommes; I get to see beneath the veneer, and meet the actual woman. Sometimes, it’s a match. But most of the time — they’re just regular gals with an atypical job. They laugh, cry, fret over whether a guy they’re into will ever call them back, wonder and worry if they said something stupid to a girl-friend, bitch about their periods, and spend hours on the phone.

Because we’re women. Not automatons. Not weapons of feminine destruction. (For the most part.) And if you are, well, you didn’t get there through being a pro-domme. That’s just smoke-and-mirrors. That is the wizardress, my friends. Go take a peek behind the curtain and then let me know what you find.

I’m not saying alpha females aren’t in existence — there are a number of them; some of which I know personally. There are plenty of queenly women, too — who believe the world should bow down to them; that they shouldn’t have to work, to earn her achievements. That everything should be offered on a silver platter. Yeah. I know a few of those, too. (Though, I tend not to associate with them).

And, yeah, they tend to be beautiful. They tend to be from lots of money, have men falling at their feet, being given everything without asking for it, and taught to believe this is really the way it’s supposed to be. I know, because that’s how my mother was brought up — by my narcissistic beauty-queen grandmother who had celebrity boyfriends through most of her youth.

That’s why I laugh at a lot of pro-domme sites, and, often-times until I get to know them, the pro-domme they represent. Really? Do they really believe that shit? It’s like having an actor arrive for an audition fully-in and not at all breaking character — for even a second. You get lost after awhile — wondering if this is just them — their actual persona, or if they’re putting it on for the purpose of the audition. And the very good ones can fool you quite well.

Most pro-dommes are that: actresses. They know it, I know it. What gets me is that the men who so desperately want to believe — with a conviction more passionate than that of Fox Mulder — somehow can’t. But, hey, we believe what we want to. And in their case — they want to believe that these bitches really are the fucking rulers of the known universe … in their own minds, at least.

Sigh.

Ah, but all is not lost.

For those driven, those crafty enough to pull back the shroud, to glimpse beyond the veil … or … something — the heart of the woman lies underneath; and her friendship is not unattainable. But, do you — brave one — have the courage, the cunning to be real with them?

Here’s the deal.

We get tonnes (and I mean, metric fucktonnes) of subby-boys and wannabe ‘slaves’ contacting us all the damned time, with their, ‘Oh mistress you’re amazing mistress. Your the most amazing thing ever ever mistress. O my god oi’m not worthy mitsressssss!’ (SIC — ’cause that’s how they honestly read half the time. Spell-chequer? Whatever. They’ve never heard of it — or think they don’t have enough hands to fuck with it, given one is already around their cock).

Yeah. Put yourself in our shoes. How eager would you be to come home (or check your phone) and read that shit — a million times a day? From random homeys who can’t spell for shit and are probably fapping whilst typing? Euch. I d’know about you, but I’ve got better things to do.

However … every now and again, we’ll get an eloquent, well-planned, thoughtful, non-intrusive, respectful (but not hyperbolically spineless — as those are not the same thing) letter (I’ve even received one of the old-fashioned variety — in the actual post as of late, which was a very pleasant surprise) message, or email from someone with whom we actually would like to have a correspondence. It’s always a highlight, because it doesn’t happen very often, sadly.

And, yet, there are subby-boys lined up in the thousands at a single domme’s door desperately entreating her time and attention — and, in their wildest dreams, to gain admission to her private inner sanctum. Wishin’, and hopin’ and prayin’ that she might look upon him differently than the others he’s shoving out of the way, or who have come before him.

Unfortunately, the odds are against you. While not entirely unheard of that a domme may meet her longed-for submissive partner among her clientele, it’s probably about as likely as the plot of Pretty Woman. Might make a great rom-com, (and … did, actually, since there’s a bit of that in Walk All Over Me — check my Links and Amazon.com affiliate store for that one) but not that common in real life.

So, you’ve got to be apart from everyone at the get-go. You have to already have a spine, not be a pussy, and able to carry yourself as a human being before you drop on all fours and start calling her Mistress. You need to let your inner Han out; be roguishly charming, handsome, and a bit of a smart-ass. Don’t fucking give yourself over to her, dip-shit. Make her earn it. After all, this is what we want. Subby-boys and wannabe slaves that flood our Inbox and give us headaches don’t offer any chase. There’s no thrill. Now, now, I’m not saying you have to be a jackass, distant, and coy. We get to be coy. You get to be dynamic.

So, brave subby-boyfriend applicant. Here’s a sort of checklist you can scrawl down on a nearby napkin and stick in your pocket.

Call it ‘Lesson Plan 1′. (Test? The test will be through application. In the real world.)

Ready? Good. Here we go …

1. Got a job? Excellent.

2. Not looking for her to take over your entire life and be the sole means of your existence? Very good. That’s fun in play, and quite arousing (and endearing, actually) — but 24/7, it just gets annoying. After awhile, we just want to smack you around and remind you to grow some fucking balls, you pussy! But then, you probably like that anyway, so — good on you, mate. She doesn’t. Not yet.

3. If circumstances permit — still talk to your family? (And by circumstances permitting, I mean you’re not in some long, drawn-out and super-dramatic estrangement game.) Send your mom (providing she’s alive, of course) flowers on her birthday and Mother’s Day? Love and defend her honour? Good. We like that shit. It’s cute. Like the old rules say, the way a man treats his mother … Yep. That’s what we can expect in 50 years.

4. Do you know who the fuck you are? It’s okay if you’re still figuring it out; to some extent, we all are. But do you have enough of an idea what you are, and what you aren’t? Do you get that when a domme asks you who you are you don’t respond with, ‘I’m very submissive, Mistress.’ ? Because we already know that. You also don’t launch into some para-masturbatory explanation about all the kinky delights you wish to share with her.

Here’s a good primer.

HER: Hey. I’m Mistress Whatserbitch. Who’re you?

YOU: I’m John Doe. (Not ‘SlaveBoy4U’ or some other bullshit.)

HER: Cool, John. So … tell me about yourself.

(Here’s the one you do not want to fuck up. Two options: toss the ball back, or stick with the general.)

YOU (Option A: Toss-back): Well, what would you like to know?

HER: Anything. Surprise me. (Which is a very good response, since she wants to see where you’re going with it. Are you going to melt into fanboy-subbishness, or actually be a man? … Of course, it’s a test. That’s what we do. It’s fun.)

YOU (Option B: The General Response): Well, I used to be an accountant before, well, the economy went to hell. Now I’ve only been in my new job for a couple of months, but stuff’s looking up, I think. Let’s see … I like movies, though I think people made too much of a deal over Avatar — it revolutionised the industry, sure, but whatever. Oh, I like to cook. Italian, so — came from a large family, and everybody cooks. My mom taught me. [Pause] Not, uh, saying anything, but … I’m a pretty damned good cook.

HER: Are you? (Score!)

YOU: Oh, yeah. I make a lasagna from my family’s homemade recipe that’ll knock your panties off.

HER: Oh, really?

YOU: Absolutely.

HER: Uh-huh. And if you’re wrong?

YOU: Wrong? (Laugh. Be confident about it, but not a dick). Oh, I’m not wrong about this. I’m good at reading people. I know what they want.

HER: Do you now?

YOU: Oh, yeah.

HER: And what do I want?

YOU: For me to shut the fuck up and let you talk because I’ve spent way too long telling you about myself to the point where it’s becoming rude.

HER: (Laughing.) Well, shit.

Now, this can go two places. If you’re cute — dinner date is on. She already knows you’re submissive, so she just may be set up for an awesome meal and super-hot kink. Uh … bonus? And why does it work? Because you’re not an asshole, you’re showing you’re confident. You’re giving her a challenge — saying that she will want you. And NOT in that ‘I’m going to top you’ sort of way, but I’m going to make you want me sort of way. And that shit is fucking Hot with a capital ‘H’, bitches.

So, even if you’re not as super-smooth as … this weird amalgam of my ex-boyfriends, fiance, and Dalston Lockwood — you can still stand a chance. Just remember your 4 C’s:

1) Confidence

2) Competence

3) Charm

4) Chivalry

That’s all it is: Show us you’re confident at the beginning; that you have competence — in your life, with others, at your job; charm us, because we love a guy that’s smart, clever, and can laugh at himself. (That way, even if you fuck up royally, we’re likely to give you another shot.) And chivalry — because it’s not fucking dead, and there’s a huge difference between being chivalrous and being a doormat.

Learn the difference.

… and good luck!

Tags: being a submissive boyfriend, dating a domme, getting the attention of a domme, marrying a domme, pro-dommes, real life kink, when a domme is your girlfriend