Yeah, yeah, I know…
We’re supposed to be tolerant. We’re supposed to be accepting of all things kink, even if they’re not our thing. We’re supposed to be PC, even when we’re engaging in non-PC activity.
I try, kids. I really, really do. But every now and then, something so profoundly upsets me, I just have to get it off my chest.
This week on FetLife, I reposted an old piece of writing from about five years ago, a tongue-in-cheek PSA about “proper behavior during a spanking.” When I’d originally posted it, FetLife was fairly new, and I had a lot of friends who hadn’t seen it, so I bumped it back up into the feed.
Wow. I didn’t expect to see such an explosion of appreciation. To date, it has 1,171 “Loves,” hundreds of comments, and it made the top tier of the Kinky & Popular page. Very gratifying.
As is often the case when one posts something well-liked on Fet, one gets a flurry of new friend requests. And as always, if I don’t recognize the name, I go look at the profile.
Yesterday, I got one such request. The user name, which I won’t repeat here, raised red flags immediately, but I went to look anyway. And then I read the profile of a man that was filled with misogynistic, hateful, degrading rhetoric. It went way beyond male dominant/female submissive descriptions — basically, it was a treatise on how women are worthless scum, here solely for his entertainment.
Want an example? Here you go.
His photos weren’t much better. One had a naked woman crawling next to a dog cage, wearing a butt plug attached to a length of chain, which he had in his hand, and he was ordering her back in the cage. The caption: “Who let the sluts out?”
Yeah, I know. Some women like this. Some people get off on this. My question is: Why the hell did this guy send me a friend request? Did he not read my profile? Was there anything in there that even hinted that I like to play this way?
I hit “reject.” And then I wished I could reject it again, and again and again and again.
Oh, and regarding the comments on my writing — 99% of them were positive, and recognized the piece for what it was: humor. But the occasional Uber-Dom had to drop by and spew testosterone, talking about what should be done with me. One guy said I sounded like a PITA brat. (That’s Pain In The Ass, y’all.) Oh yeah? Well, you sound like a PITA top, pal. Fuck off.
And then there was this guy:
Um… no. I won’t. Because I would never bother engaging with the likes of you. Not just because you’re too full of yourself, but you’re too stupid to know that “Im” is not a word.
Argh. I guess this entry turned into a sort of CHoS, huh? So much for post-scene tranquility. I think I’m ready for Steve again.
Have a great weekend, y’all.