For those who will be shocked
I remind you:
Please read the byline in the banner.
(fyi the banner says: Where pretty lines perish AE)
Commenter expat wrote in response to yesterday’s post about women falling deeper in love with guys like Chris Brown who physically abuse them:
After six months of casually dating a tweenager, I caught her having a fling. I might have put up with the fling, but she broke dates three nights in a row, and I became enraged by her rudeness. Those two left jabs to her face remain vivid in my brain. I must say it was an extremely intense moment - a moment of pleasure.
She says she fell in love with me at that precise point. She took me much more seriously after that.
I’ve never forgotten that life lesson. I do my best not to put myself in a situation where I’ll choose that action again. I don’t want to be that guy. But having been that guy shows a world we are told does not exist.
This is going to be a very difficult post for some of you to handle. I suggest those of you who faint at the thought of pulling off a band-aid or getting an erection at an inappropriate time pack up your dog-eared copy of The Vagina Monologues and leave now. Furthermore, anyone who can’t distinguish is from ought would be best served leaving as well.
Expat’s observation of the effect his hit had on his woman, and the experiences of those men who have talked to me about similar scenarios, mirrors my own experience. One time I backhanded my girlfriend across the face. Hard. I won’t get into the details of what led up to the altercation, except to say that the slap was fully deserved. She stumbled backwards, her hair flying in ribbons, and looked up at me holding her hand to her face. She was quiet. A few seconds of silence passed. I went and sat on the sofa in the other room for a while, then stepped outside for a walk. She was still there when I came back later that night. She sidled up to me and began pawing my chest and crotch, frantically pulling my shirt off over my head with one hand while unbuttoning her jeans with the other. No words were exchanged. In seconds we were naked, as the streetlamp outside cast shards of yellowish light on the walls.
Not to put too lewd a point on it, but her ***** was wetter than it had ever been. As she was preparing to straddle me, long streamers of mucousy ***** juice dripped from her labia onto my rock hard **** below. I remember it clear as day — the viscous juice was a faintly pale yellow, illuminated by the streetlamp light and the flicker of a TV nearby. I put my hand on the spot in between her breasts, and her heart thumped like a bass drum. She moaned in a deep, gutteral way that you only hear from big predators as they are hunched over a kill gorging themselves. My **** was burning up inside her *****, which felt like a coal fired oven.
It was the hottest sex I had ever had with her. Her passion exploded like a fireworks finale, finishing in a thermonuclear bomb of lust. Afterwards, she said her orgasms were so intense that she had almost passed out. She described seeing pinpricks of light dancing in her mind.
I have taken this experience with me to this day. I’ve had verbal fights with girlfriends before. I’ve walked out on girlfriends. I know how great after-fight sex can be (I prefer the term “after-fight” to “make-up” sex, as it better explains the underlying dynamics at play). But nothing came close in passionate intensity… no sex was hotter… than that time I backhanded my girl across her cheek. It was simple math to me — my unexpected and sudden slap had turned her on so much it left her quivering in bodyshaking orgasmic release.
I’m not going to argue in this post whether hitting a woman is alpha or beta. My belief is that on average it is the method of a lesser alpha — a transcendent alpha substitutes self-possessed mind****ing for hitting, but a nascent lesser alpha who is relatively unaccustomed to the psychoflaying provocations of especially beautiful women will often let his emotions get the best of him. I have never known a beta to hit a woman; they simply don’t have the testosterone or ballsack to do so. Most men are deathly afraid of the idea of hitting a girlfriend when she gets out of line, even more afraid than the thought of hitting another man. Therefore, I do not subscribe to the argument that hitting a “weaker woman” is inherently beta. In fact, if betas landed at least one well-placed, exquisitely timed slap on a *****y girlfriend, many of them would see their relationships improve. This is an ugly truth about women that so many refuse to confront.
Women especially do not like to confront this fact about themselves because they fear their own untameable contours of sexual desire. Women understand that if men knew what actually motivates their libido, they would be taken advantage of as their will crumbled under the onslaught of his refurbished masculine energy. They would lose their leverage in the sexual market. They would be compelled to surrender, utterly, completely, totally.
i loved that he was so powerful i was nothing.
- O, on her sadistic lover
Note that hitting a woman is context dependent. You cannot walk up to a random woman on the street, slap her in the grill, and expect her to jump your bone. Nor can you hit a woman on the first date, hoping it will close the deal. Hitting, in powerful SINGULAR bursts no more than one slap at a time, will only have the intended ***** moistening effect on women who are already in your sexual orbit. She must be your girlfriend or lover. If she isn’t already intrigued by you, hitting her won’t make her so.
For practical reasons, you should never hit a wife. Although it will fire up her loins and deepen her love for you in the moment, when the divorce comes (50% chance) at a future date, her sleazebag lawyer will coax those pleasant memories out of her and use your moment of expressive masculinity against you to royally screw you for all eternity. Yet another reason not to get married.
Commenter Paul “Faygala” Gowder wrote:
Roissy claims that the refusal of domestic violence victims to speak to the cops reveals that women like being beaten. That is such utter idiocy and dangerous drivel that it makes me practically dizzy to see that someone wrote it.
Paul is your typical lickspittle betaboy SWPLer feminist suck-up who has imbibed deeply of the reigning orthodoxy. His pinched soul is a warped and shriveled nutsack of legalese sophistry. His shoulder is drenched from years of unattainable girls crying on it. Behold him, for he is the personification and the foot soldier of the Great Lie.
I am not claiming that women WISH to be beaten. Naturally, if you ask a woman, she will say “No way I don’t want to be beaten!”. What I do claim is that despite a woman’s conscious feelings towards abusers, her loins and her heart melt for men who abuse them, as can be seen by not only their return trips to the poisoned well (50% of women return to their abusive lovers), but by their very REAL and GENUINE love for their violently abusive lovers. Nothwithstanding to the contrary all the feminist squid ink attempting to whitewash in proper PC politesse why women go back to men who hit them, the simplest, and most parsimonious explanation, is that women return to abusers because THEY LOVE THEM. They are drawn to them. I have looked into the eyes of women who were in relationships with men who hit them, and I saw love. True, deep, fathomless love. If you have ever seen the eyes of a woman in love, you’ll know what I mean. They look as if they’re cavorting on another plane of existence.
Even beautiful women like Rihanna, with nearly illimitable options on the sexual market and an extensive support network that would protect her from abusive boyfriends, cannot help but keep going back to the man who hits her. Rihanna is said to be lonely without Chris Brown. She could have almost any man, but she chooses the man who punched her in the face.
I believe this is an ingrained hindbrain preference generally shared by most women that refuses to comfort the egos of the faint of heart and the blind of reality. Now whether this innate preference is a misfiring of the female brain’s coding for dominant men, or simply an extreme example of such a preference that lies along a spectrum of lust for men possessing varying degrees of dominance is open for discussion. But one thing is clear:
Chicks dig power, and hitting a woman is a form of power.
My thesis, based on this fundamental understanding of female psychology, is that women get turned on by the display of power when a man delivers a hit, even, maybe especially, a hit that targets herself.