Maybe You Were Raped Because…

Maybe you were raped because you suck at living your life or maybe you were raped despite the fact that you were living your life in the best way possible.

Maybe you were raped because you were an easy victim or maybe you were raped because there’s far too much ugliness in the world.

Maybe you were raped because you made a mistake
or two
or three
Maybe because you showed up five minutes too late or an hour too early.
Maybe you were raped because you wore the red stilettos instead of the Birkenstocks (didn’t you know you should always wear shoes you can run in?)
or maybe you were raped because you were targeted by a criminal.

Maybe the fact that there was no evidence of your rape means you weren’t raped, or maybe you were too traumatised for too many days to have a rape kit done in time.

Maybe you didn’t get a rape kit done in time because you’re just plain stupid or maybe because living in the horror of rape’s aftermath makes every damned thing you’re “supposed” to do well nigh impossible. Maybe you were just reacting

normally

to an abnormal situation.

Maybe being traumatised indicates your weakness or maybe every man,
woman,
adult,
teen,
and child
with all the strength of a hundred gods would experience exactly the same trauma as you are because that’s a

normal

reaction.

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My Bank is a Service Top

Dear SpanishRed

It’s come to our attention that you might not be a real person. You’ve been using our bank for 20 years, and yesterday the thought struck us, “Hey, what if this person is actually a shrew?” We thought we’d better make sure, so please come in today to show us the ID book you showed us four years ago again. We’ve kinda forgotten what it looked like, and we figure, shit, you might have lost it and we need to make sure you are, indeed, in possession of said ID.

Well, okay, someone from Fetlife told us you were into degradation, so the fact that we also want to mock your ugly-as-fuck ID photograph might have something to do with it. I’m sure the rain today and the bad hair day it causes will be satisfyingly humiliating for you as well.

We’re aware that, four years back, you proved to us that you were a person, not a koala bear, but how the hell do you expect us to be sure you haven’t turned into one in the last few years? We know koalas are cute and all, but we don’t let them bank with us. What’s that? You’re drawing your salary into your account so you must be a person? Well, no. Koala bears have been known to get payment for doing stuff like professional ballet and modelling for Cosmopolitan magazine, so we can’t be all that sure of your personhood, now can we?

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I Didn’t Give You Permission to Use Your Dom Card

Not a lot irks me more than those who try to cash in their dom cards before we’re involved. Sometimes the behaviour is as subtle as it is widespread, but I can spot it as easily as a drop of ink in a bucket of water.

You don’t get to treat me like your sub before I’ve even expressed any interest in being friends, let alone before I’ve decided you’re worth a first coffee date. Back off.

You don’t get to degrade me or fuck with my head until I’ve consented to it. Doing so doesn’t make you domly, it makes you manipulative. Back off.

You don’t get to sign your messages “from sir” when we’ve done nothing but exchange a few messages. Back off.

You don’t get to tell me what to do when I don’t know a damned thing about you. Back the hell off you entitled asshole.

I’ve been ordered to change my profile photographs. A stranger thought that being a dom meant he was entitled to dominate every sub he spoke to, and he got his rocks off by telling women he didn’t know what to do. His level of entitlement was big enough to choke on.

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