Desperate

There were many men out there. All expressing a desperate desire to serve me in some way. All different. All professing to be sincere. Yes, the mood for them all came off as desperate. Some seemed more so than others. I can't say why they seemed desperate or even what it was that made them come off that way. Maybe it was because it was online, they could be freer about the immediacy of their needs. Maybe they felt the desperate tone would appeal to a dominant woman. Maybe they sensed the huge number of other men vying for the same attention from the same woman. Or maybe it was the kink/desire/fetish/fantasy in their head that they were about to unload on me. The knowledge that it would probably produce a horribly negative response with a very slim chance their wish would be granted. But they felt a need to strike while the iron was hot, jump in blindly and take the risk before they changed their mind, a once in a lifetime opportunity to live out something they couldn't escape in their minds.

There was the business man who struck up a conversation with me by first telling me about a foreign country where men paid to be castrated by women. From what I gathered, it was some secret society where some women had tons of money and power for doing this. He went into some detail about it. Then he asked me if I thought I could do something like that. Of course he would sign a waiver and pay me extremely well. If he had that kind of money, why didn't he just go to that country and have it done, I asked. He replied that the waiting list was a year and a half long. He didn't want to wait. This was amusing. I had absolutely no intention of doing anything of the kind and I never agreed to, but I continued to chat with him because it fascinated me. I couldn't really tell if he was real or serious or even if his story was anywhere near true. And actually, that didn't matter. I was along for the ride. The more I could learn about people (men in particular), the better. So I listened and I asked questions. His ultimate fantasy was to lay at my feet castrated by me and bleeding, have me laugh at his predicament, quickly grab a signed blank check he left on the table and go buy myself a new Mercedes. Where does this come from? I never met the man and I'm not a therapist. What I do know is, that man got exactly what he wanted from me. To play out his fantasy safely.