An intellectual domina phone sex Mistress requires a different level of (intense, utter, all-consuming) submission.

An intellectual domina knows things. Most of them are things you could never hope to even begin to understand. Some of them are things about you. If she doesn’t already, she will soon you better than you know yourself — and that’s just after one phone call.

You’ve had your whole life to figure things out, but somehow “true enlightenment” continues to elude you. That’s awfully sad, isn’t it? How lucky (for you) that you’ve (finally) found me.

My favorite way to dole out hardcore domination phone sex is via utter mind fuck. Lifelong submissives know that truly degrading humiliationships take time, committed reverse-nurturing. Impatient slave-wannabes will be dismissed, as anything other than worshipful, pious devotion is unacceptable.

Even your humblest surrender and most pathetic groveling repulse me, of course. Everything about you disgusts me. It/you disgusts you, too.

“Every man, deep down, knows he’s a worthless piece of shit.”

– Valerie Solanas, The S.C.U.M. Manifesto

 

The brutal psychological humiliation administered by an intellectual domina like myself has the power to take you outside your grotesque self, however briefly. Telling the truth feels good, “good” meaning “bad” in your case. Only a sick fuck like you would seek this type of catharsis.

And as for hearing the truth? To hear the truth from an intellectual domina is just divine, transcendental — if such a thing existed! Newsflash, idiot: no such thing exists or has ever existed. Looks like you need more help than you thought you did . . . you know, you should really thank GODDESS you had the brief moment of clarity that led you to calling ME!

Are you ready for more “clarity”? If you think you can handle telling (and hearing) the truth about your (again, utterly fucking GROTESQUE) self, give me a call . . . your intellectual domina is always ready to remind you what you are/what your pathetic, forgettable life REALLY is(n’t) . . .

With Something BENEATH Contempt,

Phone Sex Kingdom Nicole Burke