{Kink post for adult women with self-sabotage and misogyny fantasies. Others may kindly move on.}

A girl in servitude and misery has a life-changing night where she leaps into comfort and respect and romance. A proper fairy tale. In her regular life Cinderella was voiceless, loveless, and perhaps even worthless (at least she must have felt that, don’t you think?). Then magically, and quite abruptly, she has the most amazing night ever. She gets gorgeous clothes, some fancy slippers, a chauffeured commute, and of course all the attention of the prince charming. An altogether incredible time until the night - and along with it, the magic - wears off and she scurries back to her wretched life again.

I seek a woman who is the anti-matter of this fairy tale.

Such woman already leads a privileged life. She is independent. She is loved. She is respected. She creates value. And yet, she is inexplicably attracted to the idea of having all that liberty, dignity, and worth wiped away from her.

Woman like that, you already have thought about being humiliated and degraded for a man’s pleasure. Maybe you don’t like it very much, but that doesn’t mean the thoughts go away, or that they are not hot. They materialise out of thin air and without really being conscious of it you are turned on thinking about a man slapping you hard till you beg him to stop.

I like that sort of thing. Slapping and spitting on a consenting woman’s face. You may be consenting, but you hate it anyway. It is almost poetic to watch your face twist and struggle with the emotions that surface up to meet the saliva landing on it. You know it’s demeaning, you feel offended, and yet there you are. For one magical miserable night

You finish your work for the day, you are dressed respectably, you hire a cab to mine, enter my door, and become *Anti-Cinderella* - the wretched masochistic whore who is unrecognisable as the confident independent woman of the morning.

We can discuss ahead on what happens to you when you give yourself as to me for a night. Depending on your bandwidth, I could grope you, beat you, step on you, shame you, use you as a footstool, use you as a fleshlight, and more such vile stuff that usually no woman would volunteer to.

Which is why there is no plan to convince you, or seduce you. You contact me because you desperately seek that place where you don’t matter. Not your beauty, not your salary, not your power, not your intellect. None of that matters. What matters is the man that knows this about you, and his cum.

So come and tell me what I need to know about you. Tell me you are a software engineer but you will kneel under a computer desk and suck dick. Tell me you are a lawyer and violation of your rights is like porn for you. Tell me you’re a teacher, and you just want to learn your place. Tell me you’re Boss girl, and being a slave is what you are good for.

Aftercare is essential for me. Tell me what you like for aftercare.

Be of age. Be female. Make your decisions yourself.

!lock