One of the great things about being online in a community such as this, is that it facilitates an exchange of ideas and a greater understanding of the "why" of our lifestyle and community. FemDom is a topic which interests me greatly (hey I'm a Domme, I'm not going to say I'm bored rigid by it) and I've been doing some thinking about this subject. In order to fully understand my own views on this, I have had to look back to both religion (pagan, i.e. native religion, and pre-Trentine catholicisim i.e. when the Church was the Roman Church, rather than having been reformed). I also feel it pertinent to comment on the dynamic and psychology of submission to a Dominant woman in order to fully express my own views.
Why do some men submit to women?
For centuries our societies have been mostly patriarchal, and where there has been reverence of a female figure, this has been in terms of the mother, or the virgin. There for procreational purposes (implanting of the seed to grow into future generations) or sexually innocent. These figures are both passive, bordering on the asexual. So why do grown, responsible men say "Mistress, I am Yours to command"? I have thought long and hard about this and I believe there are two strands to this answer, both of which are worthy of consideration.
Firstly, men are born to command (feminists, don't shout at me too loudly - bear with me). They lead, they are responsible. At work and at home they are the Head of the Corporation, the Head of the Family, the Head of our Societies. Power is theirs (so it seems) by right, and they use it relentlessly. With power, power's darker side if you will, comes responsibility. Flip sides of the same coin. Power without responsibility is tyranny, and although we have borne tyrants throughout history, responsibility is something that the men that wield the power know all too well. That is a heavy burden. It requires self control as well as control of those for whom they have that responsibility, and although authority - the ability to wield that power - can be delegated, the responsibility remains at the power's source. How sweet it would be then to be able to lay down that burden, give it to someone else, let someone else make those decisions when minds are occupied with high finance and people's lives. An act of surrender as well as release.
Where can these poor captains of industry and heads of the household lay that responsibility? At whose feet can they say "take away this hurt and free my mind". Ultimately, the first person to soothe their wounds and heal their hurts, and nurture their minds and bodies were their mothers. But therein lies Freud and a wealth of issues I am not qualfied to talk on. So they look for their ersatz-mothers, the strong female figures whose shoulders are strong and can say to them "rest little one, you will do as I say". They turn to the Dommes. We are not their mothers, for lo we are sexual creatures. We are not the virgins, the innocent and malleable. We are the women on whose strength these societies have been built; whole, uncompromising, complete within ourselves. We have that sexual awareness that patriarchal societies have been afraid of for centuries. We are worthy of worship.
Hang on, there's something. We are worthy of worship, of veneration because we are who we are; because we are complete and unmalleable and sexual and powerful. Worship? Worship? Yes! There is something that these men are missing. Something of which all societies mourn the loss. Permission to adore women as sexual creatures. And this brings me to my second strand. Why can these men not worship us? The answer lies in millenia of patriarchy, itself a heady notion.
Before, women were the core of all power, the mystery of the bleeding that did not lead to death, the mystery of procreation within their own bodies. Mystery because they could not experience it and therefore could not possibily understand it. And so the priests proclaimed us unclean and jezabels and whores and unworthy of their worship. We, who gave them life; we, at whose breasts they were nourished. They ran scared and demonised us.
Through centuries of reform and reinterpretation, women's roles were further diminished. St Paul and St Augustine bear much of this responsibility, but without the lust for power of Constantine who gave the christian church an administrative structure would this contempt of the power of women have been given such opportunity to thrive? I don't know. Constantine's conversion enabled many more men to see that redemption was through structures that men could understand. Jesus, a man, bled and died for our sins. That must be true, unlike these strange women who bleed every month and do not die. That they understand, that they accepted. And yet the longer these patricarchal structures have been in place, the more guilt was placed on men for not being able to access the strength and procreative power of women. So secretly, they crave being able to worship us again. And so they come to us, ask "Mistress let me worship You" because they require permission to be *allowed* to recognise the core of the woman that we all are; not passive, not desexualised but proactive, powerful, sexual because *we* so choose to be. They call us by the name that our roman forefathers used before the Goddess: Domina. They worship us because they need to release the guilt of wanting active, powerful, sexual women when they are told by society that we are passive. And by so doing, they recognise and embrace their Principia Femina, their X chromosome that they inherited from us.
So, captains of industry and heads of houses, lay down your burdens of responsibility and embrace your love of us on this feast of St. Valentine. We will instruct, control and command you and do so in the full knowledge that we wield power with wisdom and responsibility. You are safe with us.
Dedicated to my powerful sister Dommes.
Bright blessings on you all,
Gloriana
