S.A.M’s they am’s

All three of my guys are

 Smart Assed Masochist…..

I bring this on myself……my own base nature as a predatory animal…..…causes me to end up with this type of man.

I am my own worst enemy in the lottery of tracking sexual partners.
I own the fact…I am attracted to men who tend have a lot of Alpha swagger in their nature.
I am a mouthy, brassy determined creature.
I am not an easy woman to deal with when it comes to my sexual appetites. A man has to be willing to surrender all…in the right way…with the right timing……….. to keep my attention.
I don’t just make eye contact with a man who has my interest…..I lock eyes with them and I do not look away…and I watch how they drop their gaze from me. There is a “tell” that indicates the difference between an eye drop that is in anger over the fact I will not be conquered into looking away….and a look from a man who has dropped his eyes in deference to my dominance. I also watch…how they watch me. Eyes will always telegraph the impetus of the observer.
This habit I have….has never failed me…and it is why in my lifetime…I have only encountered three men who didn’t have me backing away out of fear for my own safety. I am brazen….I am not stupid. Men who do not wish to be dominated are men to avoid if you are woman like me. It truly is a matter of imperative personal safety.

My thrill …my bliss……comes from the chase……from the “cat and mouse” stalking and sensuously convincing them to hand me their power…….. enthusiastically.

I want things MY WAY…..

But I don’t want men falling at my feet and handing over just because I asked.

That

——*YAWN*——

bores me.

I want some piss and vinegar in them…I want them to put up some resistance…..I want them to have a fire in their belly……I want them to earn the right to have me dominant them……..by proving they are willing to surrender…when the time is right.

I want them paying attention to my cues.

I want them sophistically witty and pithy……..I want to see some life-learned-and-earned intelligence in the mirth.
I want them to want to tease me with their mind and smile and eyes. I want to see them own sexual prowess …when they are upright and clothed. I want them to be confidant in their sexuality as a man….I want them to know how to effortlessly seduce me without flexing macho.
Gee…

Wish in one hand………….. and shit in the other………………. and see which one gets full first……………………….right?

(NO that isn’t an invite or a hint that I am into scat play.)

Somehow…..somehow…lord……somehow……I managed to find not one…but three men who were willing to play along with my side of the game….and stick around for encores.
I didn’t set out to have three……the first one was my “beyond my wildest dreams” catch….…why the hell tempt fate?
But tempt fate I did…at the behest of my first catch…..thus…..I have a “stable”.

That is typed with a

*sardonic self-chastising snort*

and a

“WTF..how did I get here?”

*head shake*.

And life…it doeth come’th around and bite’th me on’th the ass…..frequently!

Only my husband is a pain slut styled S.A.M. ……he is the kind of bottom who will say
“OH come on…you hit like a girl!”
“I can take more!”
“Is that the best you got?”
“You’re just not up to it…I get it.”

Thinking he was “helping me to be a better Domme”…by egging me on with his S.A.M styled  smart assed mouth.

THAT all had to come to a screeching halt when applied to our D/s structure………because it undermined MY confidence. I felt like he was telling me I wasn’t trying hard enough or good enough as a “Fem Domme”. He’s learned the art of tempering his tongue in order to gain the reward of BDSM play within the bounds of what I am capable of.

Guy number two is always a smart ass…and is masochistic in the nature of being an emo-type SAM.
He isn’t into physical pain at all….but emotional pain……gooood gaaaaaawd and gravy…the man thrives on picking absurd arguments with me……just to get me to pounce on his ass…tell him to shut up and get naked.
Auguring is foreplay for him and me. We don’t “fight like a couple” we verbally spar without the intent of inflicting harm…it is heated debating…….passionate debating…..for the most part it benign……. but once in a while he will veer into territory that he knows is going to cause HIM some masochistic emotional pain…..he knows that heading straight into this type of confrontation with me……IF I engage in this particular type of sparring….is going to cause him self-inflicted pain….a bizarre self-flagellation with contemplations……….. as opposed to a physical flogger of some sort.
He has his moments where it hits him…I am not his….he can never “have me all to himself” that when I leave him…I go home to life my other life………. I am a suburban housewife and sleep in the same bed another man…not him…gets to sleep in with me.
Why does he crave this kind of pain?
I sense at times it is him struggling with the ghosts of his staunch Catholic childhood. He is a party to adultery. He is the element that I use to commit adultery so he is guilty of the sin as a collaborator…he is guilty by association and that good Catholic boy in his soul…..needs to exorcise the demons. SO he picks a fight in hopes I will toss him aside. He doesn’t want to acknowledge he participates by free will…because that means he is guilty of being complacent about the sin he is part of. He is looking for contrition thru me…….

I am his “Hail Mary” abdicator. My not kicking him to the curb when he picks these arguments means I am the sinner…..he is just the innocent bystander who has to play along.

At other times I sense the reality of sharing a woman with another man….….hits him…and it hits him hard. He is of an ethnic persuasion that prides itself on “Manly men have wives who are faithful and stoic…… and along with a wife…….. they also have girlfriends….. that are faithful like puppies”.

They DO NOT share their women knowingly….and once the infidelity of the woman is common knowledge…she is banished from the clan with much clamor and uproar and her name is mud and anyone who would associate with the women is an enemy.
The dynamic he is caught in as the second man…not the primary man in my life….….causes him to question his masculinity.
Tho he doesn’t see life from a BDSM perspective/inclination………he does sometimes feel he is being “topped” by my life partner…..because my life partner directs the interaction he has with me….from the well hidden perch on the sidelines. He never knows when this other man is dictating the circumstances with me and in turn having an effect on his life.

Guy #3……..my wild card SAM…..who by nature is a dominant………with a wicked sense of humor, the ability to challenge my dominance…..without making me anger….but more to enthrall me….and he scares the hell out of me. And the twisted perversion in this equation is that fear is what draws me to him……he is the flame for my moth-ness.

Move from flames and moths to:

We dance around each like a snake and a mongoose; both being one or the other and never really being sure who will draw the proverbially “Uncle” first.
We can go for weeks……..taunting each other …….by phone, texting and email….before one of throws in the white flag.

I can hold out longer….but only because I have an available boy in the stable……to use and abuse……..with informed and aware consent……….when guy #3’s taunting gets the better of me and I need to pounce on something warm and breathing to fed upon.
I live in a weird safety zone with this relationship.
I am not “fluid bound” to him as a carnal partner. We do not have sex……but that isn’t my safety net.
My safety net is in the fact he is my husband’s best friend….and to hurt me maliciously…would bring on a world of hurt for him….from my husband.

Ahhhhh…………
Dancing with SAM’s…..

To the tune of cucked or poly music…..…

Not for the weak willed or faint of heart.