Now, I’m typically not one to sling mud. There are better things to do with my time, and it’s not exactly the most lady-like. (But then again, there are times that I’m hardly that, too.) But it’s been increasingly obvious to me that those who would qualify for a Mistress Akasha Support Group could easily keep me in business for years. It’s one thing to write a lot of erotica and run online training programmes. It’s another to lead individuals from those programmes to believe they are somehow separate from the others; ‘special’. Furthermore, when she has no intentions on following through on any of her promises. Ever. (Which can be a very frustrating thing. I know.) For some, it’s sheer obliviousness, or the result of oppression, being commitment-phobic, and so on. But for others, it’s a whole other ball-game.
For one, Akasha is a narcissist. Pure and simple, she lives in a fantasy world of her own creation to escape the fact that she has never had the capacity for true intimacy or to find real happiness. And God knows why; her life is fine. It has been for ages. And yet, she continues to use, abuse, and discard men. And men continue to let her because it’s ‘hot’. Sure, the concept may be veritably on fire, but the reality will leave you cold. Because that’s all it is and should be: fantasy. Subs are attracted to her because she’s a ‘true femdom’. Fine. Great. And no doubt, many submissive man’s idea of a female dominant is cold, hard, calculating, cruel, and selfish, but the even colder, harder truth is that such a person makes a shitty girlfriend. And probably an even worse wife.
Think about it. You’re a submissive man, and you’re in love. Finally, you’ve found everything your heart has ever desired: strong, independent, successful, beautiful, popular, and an uber-domme with dozens — maybe hundreds — of men at her feet, or dying to be there. Clearly, you’re more into her than she’s into you, but that’s okay, because she’s at least giving you her time and attention, which means you have more than a snowball’s chance in hell of winning her affection. Perhaps, one day, after your trials and tribulations, she’ll be so proud of your selfless suffering, service, and devotion that she’ll love you as deeply and entirely as you do her, since you were the one man who proved to her that you were everything she wants and needs, and now she’ll be forever yours, and you’ll both live happily ever after in femdom bliss.
But, wait — come to think of it, I hope you really like waiting, because that’s what you’ll be doing a lot of, and for an indefinite amount of time. That’s right, indefinite. As in potentially — make that, likely — never-ending. Waiting, waiting, waiting for her to call or email you back. To want to see you again. To pay attention to you at all. But this is what you’ve wanted — right? The chance to prove to your one true love, that woman you’ve always been waiting for since you were a young boy with raging hormones, that you’re all that, the bag of chips, and the super-sized beverage? Because it’s in your sweet nature to want to be of service. To give of yourself so completely. You’re sure if you just put in (though, after awhile, it feels more like ‘do’) the time, that you’ll be rewarded with all of your dreams and desires coming true.
Sigh. You poor boy. I don’t know how to break this to you — well, okay, I do, but you’re going to have to really brace yourself — but … she’s just not that into you. Don’t take it personally; she’s just not that into anyone. She can’t be. The only one Mistress Akasha loves is herself. Period. And if it stands in the way of her being able to satisfy the one who means most, then she will do it. Unfortunately, that person is often you.
Now, you’re probably wondering who the fuck am I to be targeting a ‘legendary’ woman who has contributed to BDSM and femdom erotica for over a decade. What could I possibly know, and why would I have such a decidedly nasty approach? Well, the truth is, I don’t know her. We’ve never once met, and have only passed each other on various boards and forums. But once upon a time, my boyfriend was one of those madly in love and carelessly discarded after a year or so after an intense relationship he hoped would last his lifetime. We’re not talking about faceless subs in a chatroom or enrolled in her online training programme. We’re talking flesh and blood, visage a visage, real deal. So, forgive my overly catty tone. I’m sure you can understand. (Although why she let him go is something I never will; nor will I ever do. Of course, in that regard, I can always be grateful to her.) (more…)