Niceties

 

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Recently I was referred to as nice… from one of My slaves. I guess that isn’t completely out of left field. I do tend to develop a personal relationship with the long-term bitches and some pleasantries do have a way of being exchanged. The odd thing is, the declaration that I’m nice came from a slave who has never said it before and one that I’ve treated quite poorly. It was articulated by a boy bitch that irritates the shit out of Me and is well aware of his ability to annoy. He hears about it from Me all the time.

Perhaps he expressed this viewpoint because I was treating him with a little less piss and insults, and he mistook this as Me being nice. Maybe he has a really, really bad work atmosphere or a horribly lonely home life and, therefore, his basis of consideration is horribly skewed. Perhaps, but doubtful, it’s because I’m growing soft. Either way, it kind of pissed Me off. But it also got Me thinking. Am I nice? I say over and over again I really don’t give a fuck how you bitches perceive Me, and yet for some reason it makes Me shudder and spit fire when I consider there are some of you out there that do indeed think of Me as nice, amiable or even considerate.

This got Me thinking, and just for shits, I have recently been contemplating how some people may perceive Me. What is humorous to Me is the variables for the different answers I have concluded. As with most/ almost all perceptions, it is truly in the eye of the beholder, but it is also based on which side of Me or how much of Me I show you. My hairdresser, My doctor, My accountant.. they all probably think I am “such a sweet girl” (in fact that is a direct quote.) Am I sweet? Am I (shudder) nice? Again, it depends on our interactions and how much of “Me” you’ve seen. The people who work at My p.o. box place probably thought I was such a doll until the time they forgot to call Me to say that a perishable item arrived for Me. “What?!!? It says here these roses were delivered on Tuesday; today is Friday. Why the hell wouldn’t you have called Me? Do you really think there’s any chance whatsoever that any of these aren’t dead and can be salvaged? What were you thinking??!! I want to speak to your manager.”

And then upon asking if I’m nice, I think those people closest to Me: My friends, My family and definitely My husband would respond to that question with a, “Well, you’re not mean.” type of response, although in their heads, they are shouting a resounding, “NO!” They know the real Me. Even My in-laws no longer think I’m quite as benevolent as I believe they did upon first meeting Me. Once when all of us went to this manatee park in the Everglades, My father-in-law was sympathizing with this girl who had dropped her camera over the railing. I think he was rather taken aback when he heard Me snickering and I believe he was actually shocked when, later on I referred to the girl as a stupid dumbass. Although that was the same afternoon he saw My authentic feelings of compassion as well. As soon as I saw those majestic creatures forced from their homes due to habitat destruction, gathering at this park because of it’s warm fresh water source, each and every one of them with long, thick gashes along their backs from propeller blades, the tears immediately started pouring and only really let up when I witnessed that dumbass drop her camera.

Those in My other, nonconformist life: slaves and fellow dommes probably would consider Me to be friendly, amicable, dare I say (without throwing up in My mouth just a little) even nice.. well, unless you’re one of those who has forgotten to call when flowers were delivered or an equivalent offense. I guess, like when defining your position on or opinion of most things, it really depends on the person and the situation. I admit, as Mistress B, I have a hard time being mean just for the hell of it, or worse yet, because “I’m suppose to.” Upon our first introduction, the quote for chat or cam time will always be more if you’re obnoxious and/or irritate Me. You can even do something that I don’t like and not even know it, gaining you a higher estimate than others. It may be something that you or even the general public don’t consider offensive. You could be a slow-typer, use an excess of animated emoticons, profess your undying love (sure sign of a bull-shitter,) think you’re funny when you’re clearly not, have an ego or even a slight wisp of self-worth. However, if (in addition to an introductory tribute,) you approach Me with admiration, honesty, a meek demeanor akin to a mouse, you speak when spoken to, answer My questions promptly, possess the right amount of awe for Me, are slightly goofy or charming, artistic or creative.. these among many other things may deem you likable in My eyes.. which may perhaps, possibly, eventually lead to Me being.. uh, sorta nice, I guess.

Honestly, being nice is not something I like to readily admit. You idiot asshats are probably going to assume I’m like that from the get go, but think back on My previous columns, the way I talk to you bitches as a whole. Consider the language I use and how I describe you as pathetic, drooling, brainless fucktards. Conjure up the body language, the facial expressions, the imagery included in My videos. This is the Me to the general you. This is the woman you get when you first come crawling, begging to be Mine. Hospitable, patient, nice.. these adjectives only occur after you have been here a while, after you have earned them and even then, it’s certainly not a guarantee or a regular occurrence. Also there are groups within that group. I confess with a clear conscience, I most definitely play favorites and you can bet your ass not all My slaves are treated equally. It’s one of the profoundly liberating aspects of this lifestyle (I don’t have to abide by any rules but My own.) I let some slaves get away with paying less than others. There have been times I let a slave owe Me a cum tax if he’s not able to make the payment right then and there. My niceties or lack thereof are really dependent on so many factors. What kind of a mood I’m in, who I just got done talking to/ yelling at, if I’ve been drinking, if I’m seriously jonesing for a cigarette, as well as how you act,  how you have earned trust and how you have acted during our past, to name just a few elements that contribute to My niceties/ non-niceties. A lot of it is well within your control. Some of it is not. I could have just gotten home from a romp in the woods and tease you with a smile sweet as pie. Or I could have just finished a session with a snot-nosed, little shit unable to follow a single order and intend on berating every fucker on My schedule. Sometimes you benefit from the mood I’m in and sometimes you get wrongfully pissed on. But hell, none of that is My concern. Realistically it shouldn’t be a concern of yours either, simply because those elements are out of your control. Focus instead on the things over which you do have power: your behavior, words, actions and demeanor.

If indeed you are one of those boys lucky enough to be classified as a long-term slave and your verdict is that I am nice sometimes, it’s only because of something you did right and how you have continued in this manner.

Note also: if I am nice to you, it’s because you not only did right, but also because YOU DID NOT DO WRONG.

In all aspects of My life, with My friends/family and My bitches, I am an advocate of calling out a person on his/her shit, holding one accountable for his/her actions and in general, a huge grudge-holder not easily handing over her forgiveness. You wrong Me, you offend Me, you piss Me off and I’m going to make you cry, then be done with you… and this is how I conduct the fallout of a friend or family member; imagine if you’re serving Me!

If you are a slave and wrong Me, offend Me, piss Me off.. it’s similar. I’m still going to make you cry, but I do it in a way that shatters your very existence. Who out there knows, first hand exactly what I’m talking about? J.D.? R.H.? D.J.? M.H.? It still hurts you to remember the times you’ve fucked up, when I came down on you with such vengeance that I left you sobbing; doesn’t it? We don’t want a big pity party in the comments section, so just think of that question as rhetorical. I know the majority of you are sorry for how you have fucked up. You saw the error in your ways, paid your fuck-up fees, apologized, dried your eyes and gained My forgiveness.

Some of you have not been worth it. No matter what you would offer to pay in fines, I could not stomach another minute of you. Well, maybe just a few more minutes to rip you a new one, to let you know just what a fucking worthless, lowlife, pathetic piece of shit you are an always will be and just how much you will be aching for Me when I drop you. Then I wash My hands of you for all eternity and am so much better off because of it.

Just for shits, let’s recall a few of them who have loved and lost..

There was the fat alcoholic bitch who called Me a cunt and many other things before saying he hoped I died. I made him cry so hard, snot was running down his multiple chins, his belly heaving in and out as he gasped for breath in between his pleas for forgiveness. From what I’ve heard, he’s still up to his old tricks.

Another fuckwad sent Me some of his personal items to be included in a custom clip I filmed for him. After he acted like such a disrespectful shit, calling Me all sorts of nasty names, he still had the audacity to demand I send his stuff back to him. The items sold on ebay for very little, but like I never say, it’s not always about the money.

Most recently I had the extreme misfortune of dealing with a little shit who was seemingly so devoted with his submission and his wallet initially, but aren’t they all? He was gravely troubled; had frequent thoughts of suicide and I genuinely tried to  “help” him through his devastating depression. I offered him an escape through servitude, fun assignments and kinky diversions. However when he “turned;” when he transformed into the maladjusted super-prick threatening Me with a lawsuit, and referring to Me as a manipulative bitch, (Me; can you believe it?!) well,  just had to continue to “help” him. I told him he should do it, get it over with and end his life.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh; good times. So tell Me, you still think I’m nice?

Nice? Mean? Caring? Evil? Sweet? Merciless? Patient? Manipulative? Compassionate? Implacable? Considerate? Ruthless? Gracious? Cruel?

I guess it depends on who you ask. Are you a manatee or an insulting bitch?

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