On the other hand, sex with multiple random partners is dangerous. If you always have to renew your stocks, the chances increase that you’ll come across one who is tainted. So if you don’t find one man who is willing to do what it takes to fulfill your needs exclusively, why not have five who each do part of the job?
It’s something that, on the cusp of possibly being in a relationship, I’ve begun to consider. I’m staring down the barrel of allowing myself to depend on someone again, and being disappointed when life teaches me again that I can’t roll like a skinny blonde from a high status family…something I already know and don’t need to be retaught.
So maybe here is the method in Diva’s seeming madness. In this age of “new masculinity”, a woman in my position should keep her pimp hand strong. If someone wants to lower my sails, he’d better be making some serious waves. Otherwise, I do what I do.
There’s just one problem with this: I don’t have sex with my subs. I tried this some years ago, and almost as soon as things were settled in, I was looking for any excuse to get rid of them. Well, except for Princess, and that’s because the relationship was almost Lesbian. I currently know three I could have a similar sort of relationship with, plus a bonus being able to be seen with them. I really wish that was my niche.
As things are, if there isn’t a Primal Dominant in my life, I feel like something is missing. Oh yeah, there is a name for those of us who are sexually very Nature friendly: Primal. Now I don’t have to give a 10 pages report every time I need to explain what sort of freak I am. My feelings of Dominance or submissiveness is relative to the people involved. Props can be fun to a degree, but I am very not reliant on them to have a good time. For me, the pinnacle sexual experience involves being put in my place and kept there until he’s good and done. Doing this to others is fun as well, don’t get me wrong…just that it fires different things than my sex organs.
With Princess, things were different because, at least in the bedroom, we were both wide open. Damn him for listening to people who said what we had was somehow unhealthy. Without trying to be, it was probably the ideal situation that feminists are always talking about. So if it’s not D/s then it should be just plain frolicking…for me anyway.
In the end, there is this part of me that seeks the ubermensch. I’d rather be his sore assed bitch than a weaker man’s neglected queen, if I have to choose. So whatever I have to do to meet my needs has to be balanced with the possibility, that being a strong willed person myself, it is only a matter of time before I get “wifed up” by this type of guy. That isn’t going to happen if I’m already riding a team of cocks and being lulled into a kind of apathy like dull teeth, from always the eating canned dogfood that is most modern men.
I have to resist reasons to rebuild and climb back into the ivory tower, while at the same time keeping the lace in the corset under my chain maille in good repair. It is a dilemma.