I am a feminist.

Okay, stop it.  Yeah, you. I see you there, rolling your eyes.  "Oh god, one of those," you smirk, as you form a mental image of me in your head.  No makeup, hairy pits, hippie garb and various assorted goddess deities around my neck.  Nope, not this girl (and yeah, I said "girl").

I am a real feminist.

What does that mean?  That means I embrace the feminine, I nurture the feminine, I revel in the joys of celebrating my female nature and sexuality.  I don't feel the need to crush my nurturing instincts so I'll be 'taken seriously' in a man's world.  I don't feel the need to squeeze my sexuality down to fit some politically-correct mold dictated by NOW.  And I don't feel the need to demonize men and categorize them all as evil (although some of you can be very, very naughty sometimes).

Of course, I didn't always see feminism that way.  I fell into the women good, men bad trap at an early age.  And I learned early on to vehemently reject feminine roles.  In junior high I had to take home economics or shop, and  there was no way I was taking shop.  So I resigned myself to classes in cooking and sewing, but vowed I wouldn't really learn anything, since I was never going to be just a housewife.  Of course, now I live on macaroni and cheese and wear holy socks, and I don't mean socks blessed by the Pope.  Ditto for typing—after all, I was never going to be just a secretary.  So now I'm a writer who can't type.  God has a sick sense of humor, doesn't she?

The feminist movement says it's pro-choice.  What they don't say, is they are pro-choice, as long as you choose what they think you should choose.  Want to be a Baywatch babe?  Sorry, that objectifies women.  Want to be Miss America?  How dare you even consider a beauty pageant!  Want to be June Cleaver?  You're just going to stay home and raise children?

For example, look at their stance on adult entertainment.  Adult entertainment exploits women, screams the femi-nazis at NOW.  Okay, I admit there are some women who make porn movies or prostitute themselves to support a drug habit or a bad boyfriend.  But there are a lot of women out there cashing in on adult entertainment, and making a hell of a lot of money doing something they enjoy.  Adult entertainment exploits women?  Women are getting rich off of millions of guys paying to see a pair of tits or lick their boots.  I ask you, who is exploiting whom?

And speaking of boot licking, there's the subject of sado-masochism.  And specifically, submissive women who like to be whipped and spanked by men.  That really gets the politically-correct feminists in a frenzy.   I hate to be the one to break this to you, ladies, but sexual submission is a primal instinct.  That doesn't mean there aren't a few women who genuinely have no desire to submit sexually, but the majority of us are programmed biologically to like it when a sexually attractive man throws us down on the bed or grabs us by the hair while pounding the shit out of us.  Damn right we like it rough!  It's our Darwinistic search for the alpha male.  But god forbid we should ever admit that.  Oh no, that's encouraging the objectification of women, and promoting the idea that women are the weaker sex, blah, blah, blah. . . I say I'm still a feminist, even if I'm wearing nothing but thigh high boots and a dog collar.  (Just don't ask me to wag my tail or bark like a dog—I hate that.)

Don't get me wrong, the feminist movement and the push for equal rights has changed a lot of things for the better, and I respect those women who have fought for our right to vote, to make choices about our bodies and contraception, and to earn equal pay for equal work.  Those aren't the people I am talking about here.  I am talking about the ones who fight for chairman to be chairperson, for nudie calendars to be taken down at garages, and the ones who get their panties in a wad every time someone opens the door for them (is it any wonder chivalry is dead?)  And I see too many women working double duty in the office and still shouldering all the responsibility for taking care of the home and the kids.  We've come a long way baby—but which direction are we headed?

As for me—a strong, independent woman and feminist—I still love lacy, girly lingerie, 5-inch heels, and a good spanking while some hot, young, boy-toy is fucking me doggy style.  And why can't I have it all?  Why can't I protest Clarence Thomas' nomination and whip up a tasty meatloaf your mother would die for?  Why can't I bash heads of psychotic pro-lifers and be president of the PTA?  And why can't I be a Girl Scout leader and give a blow job that would make Linda
Lovelace look like Carol Brady?

I am woman, hear me purrrrrr. . .
 

 
 

About the Authoress:

Diana Price is a photographer and a writer of horror and
dark eroticism. A former journalist and public relations
whore, she is new to the world of fiction and poetry.

Diana is working on her erotic horror novel The Rape of
Angels, and a photographic  series on religious/Catholic
fetishes called Whores for Christ.  The excerpt from The Rape of Angels in this issue is her first published
fiction.