Feeding the beast

Up until three years ago, all of my adult relationships had power-exchange as their defining characteristic. I have written much about my submissive nature, and that nature has not really changed, but I no longer feel the need for power-exchange in my relationships on more than a scene-by-scene basis. I am still somewhat surprised by this.

I do, however, have beasts that need to be fed. I have found, for example, that I cannot live without the ability to feed my masochism on a somewhat regular basis--which gets only slightly complicated by the fact that my husband is not a sadist. Thank goodness for non-monogamy.

For quite a long time, I have bought into the De Sade philosophy of "sex without pain is like food without taste." I am finding now, however, that sex without pain can be incredible, and erotic, satisfying, and hot, and in no way lacking. Still, I find that every once in awhile I just have to get out and feel pain--to be beaten, and tortured, and pushed, and made to orgasm from pure painful sensation.

I miss going deeply into my masochism. I always worry with this particular beast that I will bite off more than I can chew--the whole "be careful what you wish for" thing definitely applies--but I am eager to give myself over to it and just get the hell out of my own way and let it happen. When I do, it is awesome.

I like the head space I get into when I bottom to a hot sadist. I like the soreness the next day--the tenderness in the nipples, the pain in my wrists where they pulled against the restraints, even the stiffness in my neck and shoulders brought on by gripping and tensing as I process the sensations.

I don't need this every day, and, thanks to my lover, I now know that I do not need it to have an amazing sexual experience--but I do need it.

Sigh

I run a discussion group which meets once a month to discuss ethical non-monogamy, and I have been thinking lately about what that actually means, and how hard it is to live up to sometimes. This was brought on by a temptation that I faced recently which would have been unethical in several different ways—none of which mattered in the moment. I would have gone ahead and fucked the person I wanted to fuck if we had been in any kind of position to make it happen, and in the weeks since this meeting I have had to fight every single day to keep myself from putting us in that position.

A large part of me can’t but feel hypocritical, but I keep trying to remind myself that I am human and more than capable of making mistakes.

I also have to keep reminding myself that no matter how much I want this person, and no matter how amazing the sex would be and feel, to be non-ethical would feel much worse.

But—if we find ourselves in that position again, I, well, I just don’t know.