The Black Dominatrix: Empowering or Not?

Sometimes things that seem empowering because “everyone” says they should be, turn out to be very disempowering.

For a woman to dominate a man from time to time is natural, and when natural, empowering for them both.  The woman gets to act out her nature without hiding, and the man gets to admire a woman being herself.  This is good.

When however, a woman is pressured to mock dominance for the sake of societal expectations, or because this is the role “everyone” puts her in, regardless of her natural tendencies or desires, it’s just another way to take her power away.  She is being disempowered under the guise of empowerment.

So that, in the future, no one else is confused, I am stating that this is the main reason why I left the BDSM scene, and also why though no longer in the scene, I am still “out there” discussing the primal way.  People who get sex and like to open up shouldn’t be made to feel like freaks or pressured to make their beds a circus, or deny our need for actual human contact.

I am taking whatever of my old toys and paraphenalia to the dumpster…something I neglected to do because some of it is pretty expensive, and I didn’t think it would do any real harm to keep it around until I found good homes for them.  So if any of my friends want my ebony or mahogany paddles, my fairly gentle black and green floggers, or my medieval leather flogger with the chair leg handle, speak up.  If not, it’ll be in the dumpster by Friday.

As it is, I realize that it does some harm.  They are, aside of a damnable physical breakage of the “one cock rule”, relics of a life I no longer lead, pretending to be a person who I am not, but just didn’t know it at the time.

From almost the beginning of my sex life, “everyone” expected me to be manly, tough, and dominant, and so the point when expectation became demand went by undetected.  I realized it had become a demand far later than I should have, but thankfully in time to actually enjoy what is left of my sexual relevance.

I am not the Black dominatrix of “everybody’s” fantasies.  I am a strong woman, but this does not mean that it is my job to be the man for weaker men.  I am not a man.

If a man wishes to be my man and stay my man, then he needs to respect my strength but understand that he needs to be even stronger than me.  I understand that this is a tall order these days, so it may be that I will end up alone because no available and willing man is man enough.

So be it.

It is better to be alone than to be in a lie.  Better for me to be by myself, or more realistically, just take on the occasional guy who can do the job and then tell him to find someone else when the stupid demands start, than to put my womanhood on a shelf because it is too much for some to handle.

Hopefully, now that I’ve gotten rid of the old things, nobody will be confused about my position.  I don’t particularly care if this makes me seem inflexible or prudish.  I am sick of being put in a box where everybody else’s desires and fantasies are more important.  It’s not my job to compete with whores and porn.