You Can’t Have It Both Ways…

Unspeakable Axe has a good post about what some dommes want over at his blog today. On a related note, my wife and I spent an hour this morning chatting about yesterday’s post.

Amongst other things, she specifically said she wanted our debate over our future to remain free from the baggage of our BDSM relationship. “I don’t want you to argue with me as my slave, I want you to argue with me as my husband. I don’t want to dominate you into a decision, because it would be coercive, and it would make our Mistress/slave dynamic…impure. Wrong, somehow.”

She mentioned in passing that she hadn’t realized how deep my submissive urges ran. “Is that bad?” I asked.

“Nooo…” She said hesitantly. “But I do want you to…how do I put this? I want you to put up a fight. I want you to resist. I want to conquer you. I don’t want you just to curl up and surrender, I like a challenge.”

“So,” I said quietly, “You want me to fight?”

“I’m just saying…the fun is in breaking you, right?”

(I don’t know if I have all of the words right, but that’s the gist of the conversation.)

Now, if she wants me to fight, I’m happy to fight. If she wants me to be combative, hey, I’ll see what I can do. Anything for Mistress. But the problem with these dominant women who want to break a dominant man is that I spend my days being a Type-A, competitive, guy. I like the taste of blood, so to speak. I get off on crushing the opposition. (Get off. Nothing makes me hornier than beating someone. I mean, after one victory a couple years ago, I could have used my cock to jackhammer through concrete.) I’m downright bipolar about this — Darryl Zero-esque, so uncomfortable in my own skin sometimes that I don’t want to talk to the local Chinese place to order take-out, but at work — I break my back. I work hard. And I like to win.

I mean, sure, when I come home, I want to curl up at my lady’s feet, but that means it’s one or the other — you can choose between column A or column B, but I don’t know if you can order something unique. And… I’m really worried that the ass-kicking column is a bit too combative. Too competitive. I’m worried that I won’t be able to find a middle-ground, between abuse-hungry slave and competitive bastard. And, if I can be a little bit cocky — hey, you opened up the door when you asked for the fighter, sweetie — I’m afraid she’ll be biting off more than she can chew.

So what does she want? Does she really want the challenge, or does she want the teddy-bear? And if she wants something in-between, can I somehow find it in me to give it to her?