"Bitchification" - The Story Of How A Man Loses His Manhood

Before I jump into how a man becomes a bitch -- I want to clear up what is meant by the word in this story and context:

And it's also important for you to know that Mike -- my ex and the guy this story is about -- didn't start out like a "bitch"...not at all. In fact, for a 20-year old dude, he was a real man...

He was tall, dark and handsome. A hockey player -- the true definition of an athlete. I mean, the guy literally played a sport that involved fighting on a regular basis.

And on top of that, he was desired. But not in the sense of a typical jock guy -- he was wanted by women because he was a badass. He was a bit of a loner. He hung out with a diverse and ‘interesting’ crowd -- by choice. Girls were very, VERY drawn to his cool “I don’t give a fuck” demeanor.

Mike was confident. Mike was strong. Mike was sexy… Mike was a fucking boss.

Simply put: He was the true definition of a man. And that’s exactly why I was so attracted to him in the first place.

“Where are we going…?” I would ask when he picked me up for a date.

“I’ve got a few things planned, you’ll see,” he’d reply. I’d say nothing in response. I trusted him to make the decisions -- no questions asked.

And at the end of every single date, I was always happy. Impressed. Whether he took me to a semi-lame bonfire ‘party,’ to go see some lame movie, or out to dinner someplace even lamer like Applebee’s (seriously). It didn’t matter -- I was still happy. Why?

Mike made the plans. Mike made the decisions. Didn’t matter where we went…so long as he was the man leading me on our date night ‘journey,’ I was happy.

Same with when we were fucking…

I lost my virginity to Mike. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing in bed, and how could I? After all, I had only slept with him. HE was my ‘experience.’

“Come here…. get on top like this,” he’d grab my waist and moved me into position, “now grind like that…” he’d move my hips in a consistent, circular motion.

And before long, both him and I would be cumming.

He’d position me every which way possible, instructing what I should do the whole time. From behind, on top, on our sides -- didn’t matter. And even if I didn’t cum, I still was happy. Why?

Mike knew what to do. Mike made the decisions. Mike was in control. He was the man. And that’s what made me happy.

When we got into an argument, the same rule applied.

I would yell at him over stupid choices he made in the past. Things that were meaningless at the time, but I was young an immature and allowed trivial bullshit to bother me.

"I can’t believe you dated her…." I would snarl at him in disapproval, "she’s so beneath you. That makes MY value go down now… all because of you."

"You’re being childish," Mike would correct me, giving little attention to my petty remarks. "Yes, I dated her very briefly two years ago. But I never loved her like I love you. If it's going to bother you, perhaps we should consider breaking up. The past isn’t going to change. But it’d be a shame to let something we both can’t undo get in between our relationship now."

Damn… Mike was really good at putting me in my place. He knew what to do. He knew how to handle -- and call me on -- my bullshit. He knew I just wanted to hear him say he loved me -- so he said it, in a reasonable, level-headed way.

Mike dominated our arguments. But it wasn’t about being right or wrong. It was about him being the MAN -- my man. The man that could temper my emotional side. And he was… that’s what made me happy.

But then one day, Mike made a really bad decision...

In a drunken stupor, he hooked up with another girl -- a so-called ‘friend’ of mine.

To add insult to injury, I had to hear about it through the grapevine. It killed me inside. I gave everything to Mike…including my virginity. And for the most part, I was a great girlfriend. I couldn’t believe he would betray my trust like this. Even worse, I couldn’t help but feel insecure about myself. Was it me? Did I do something wrong? Am I just not good enough…?

I ignored him for weeks after finding out, which drove him insane. He still loved me. And to be honest, I still loved him.

That’s probably why we somehow always made our way back into each other’s lives. An accidental run-in at a friends party led to a night of drunkenly-fueled ‘hate/I miss you’ sex. A ‘butt dial’ turned into a full-on, 4-hour phone conversation about what went wrong.

Slowly but surely my mentality shifted from “I’m better than this, he doesn't deserve me” to “he’s perfect for me, I should forgive him.”

We got back together. And once again, Mike was my ‘man’…

Except this time around, he wasn’t. Things were different…

When he picked me up for a date, he didn’t tell me where we were going. In fact, he would ask ME: "So what are we doing?"

The first few times it happened, I didn’t know how to reply. I would blankly stare at him before finally muttering, "um… I don’t know."

He could sense that I was taken aback. He would go on to explain: "It’s all about YOU now. I just wanna make YOU happy. So what are we going to do?"

And no matter what I said, he would do it. No questions asked.

I’ll admit: it was a little liberating to tell Mike what to do. For two years I had taken a back seat majority of the time, trusting him to decide where we went on date night. But now, Mike carried the burden of guilt. He remitted his decision-making privileges as payment for his sins.

Now, I was the one telling Mike what to do. And at first, it made me happy.

It even happened when we had sex….

Mike quickly made his pleasure of little importance. It was all about me getting mine. Rather than moving me around into different positions that suited the both of us, he would sit me on top and ask me over and over again, "did you cum?" We wouldn’t stop until I did… even if he didn’t.

No more directions, instructions, or positioning. I was in total control -- another form of 'payment' Mike 'bequeathed' unto me for committing that one deadly sin. It was all about me when we had sex…and yeah, at first, it made me really happy.

But not NEARLY as happy as I was after winning arguments with Mike. The ‘petty bullshit’ I used to bring up that would get shut down by his reason and logic? That was all fair game now.

"I can’t believe you cheated on me with HER… Mike. I can’t fucking believe it. You’re disgusting. You’re a pig. I was a virgin, how could you betray ME like that…???? I TRUSTED you. You took advantage of me….you’re sick… I HATE YOU..."

I would scream, yell, cry, and even sometimes -- slap and kick. Things quickly escalated and got physical.

Except this time, my irrational ‘talking points’ were followed by his apologies. Mike would even go so far as to beg for my forgiveness and approval. Rather than calm my nerves, Mike played into my emotions.

"I know, I’m an asshole…” he would begin tearing up, “I fucked up and I’ll never forgive myself for it, please please please Jenn please forgive me. I love you. I don’t want to lose you. I’ll text her right now saying to fuck off and that I hate her. Seriously watch."

Mike would proceed to do unimaginable things in order to appease me and suppress my anger. And at first, it made me incredibly happy. This… THIS was retribution.

But that happiness soon faded. After a few months of always getting my way, having one-sided sex, and always winning an argument, I was sick of it. Mike was hardly even a man anymore… something had happened.

The process of Bitchification.

Mike lost his manhood -- the one thing that I loved most about him. He lost his control, domination and power. He stopped wearing the pants, in fact, he gladly took them right off -- and handed them over to me. A gesture that was motivated by his guilt for cheating.

Every time I decided where we went on a date or what we were going to do without his input, Mike was bitchified.

Every time we had sex that was based solely on my pleasure, Mike was bitchified.

And in every dumb argument I brought up -- and won -- without logic, pushback, or reason from his end, Mike was bitchified.

Through the process of Bitchification, Mike turned into one thing: my bitch. No input... no pleasure... no respect.

And yeah, sure...for a chick seeking revenge, having a man as her bitch does feel good for a while. It’s the ultimate payback. But a straight woman isn’t meant to be both woman AND the man in a relationship... which is exactly what I had become.

After I grew up and stopped being a vengeful little girl, I realized that Mike and I would never work. I would never respect him like I used to as a man. I would never treat him the way he deserved to be treated as a man. This wasn’t a healthy “50/50” relationship. It was 100% mine now. In my eyes, Mike was no longer a man -- and he would never be.

And that’s the thing about Bitchification: Once you’re a bitch, you’ll NEVER go back to being respected by the person who bitchified you. It’s permanent. Bitchification cannot be undone.

But not all men get bitchified in the first place…

Those are the guys who know when it’s time to man up and call it quits with the woman they once loved. They know when they’re being mistreated. They know just how valuable they are as a man -- especially to the right woman. And they'll only stick around if she is respectful.

These men stay… well, men.

Which is why I urge you, and every other man out there, to do one thing:

Respect your manhood. Never let anyone -- woman OR man -- take that away from you.

Do this, and you’ll never be bitchified. You’ll never go through the process of Bitchification.

You’ll never become someone’s bitch.

After all, if you want to be respected by others...you must first have respect for yourself.