AfroerotiK

Erotic provocateur, racially-influenced humanist, relentless champion for the oppressed, and facilitator for social change, Scottie Lowe is the brain child, creative genius and the blood, sweat, and tears behind AfroerotiK. Intended to be part academic, part educational, and part sensual, she, yes SHE gave birth to the website to provide people of African descent a place to escape the narrow-mined, stereotypical, limiting and oft-times degrading beliefs that abound about our sexuality. No, not all Black men are driven by lust by white flesh or to create babies and walk away. No, not all Black women are promiscuous welfare queens. And as hard as it may be to believe, no, not all gay Black men are feminine, down low, or HIV positive. Scottie is putting everything on the table to discuss, debate, and dismantle stereotypes in a healthy exchange of ideas. She hopes to provide a more holistic, informed, and enlightened discussion of Black sexuality and dreams of helping couples be more open, honest, and adventurous in their relationships.

Showing posts with label Cheating. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cheating. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 10, 2016

Neighborly Hospitality





Unannounced visitors were not very common, especially in the middle of the day, so when the knock came at the door for Lisa Ingles, she was caught a little off guard.  Little did she know that she was about to be introduced to a world of experiences that would shift her reality and alter her life completely.  Little did she know that she was about to become an entirely new woman.

She opened the door to find herself staring, face to face, with a beautiful black woman who looked more like she belonged on a runway in Paris or New York as opposed to a quiet, unassuming street in Alpharetta.  Her face was made up in a way that was flawless, highlighting her chocolate brown complexion that looked as smooth as silk and her hypnotic eyes and full sensual lips.  She was wearing a tight black leather vest that pushed her breasts up and put them on display like a set of pillowy mounds of soft flesh.  Her expensive designer jeans hugged every curve and you can rest assured that she had curves.  She was wearing rather expensive shoes as well; not that there was much of them, it was a pair of dangerously high heels made up of just a few strips of black leather that crossed her toes and wrapped around her ankles and formed a perfect canvas for her coral colored toenails that complimented her beautiful brown skin.  Lisa, forgetting all her manners, simply stood and stared.  Waiting patiently for the usual initial shock to wear off and extending her hand, she said, “Hi neighbor, my name is Syreeta and I’m going to be moving in next door and I wanted to stop by and introduce myself.” 

Regaining her composure, Lisa shook of look her initial surprise and invited her guest in.  She felt rather underdressed in her workout clothes and she tried to hide her insecurity by being gracious.  “Steven did mention that he might be moving but I really don’t have that much interaction with him; I wasn’t even aware that he’d moved.  Welcome to the neighborhood, I’m Lisa.  My husband Brad is at work now but it’s very nice to meet you.  Please do sit down.  Would you like some coffee?” 

Syreeta’s demeanor was graceful and friendly.  She politely declined the offer for coffee and asked for some bottled water instead.  “Actually, Steven is just renting the place to us for a couple of months.  My boyfriend got a job here with CNN and I told him that I’d give him a few months to see if I could adapt to life in the burbs.  I’m hoping it’s remotely reminiscent of Wisteria Lane because I’d hate to think the most excitement that there is to be found out here is a concert at Chastain.”  

Lisa laughed along with her, rather nervously, knowing that there was little excitement north of the perimeter compared to the Desperate Housewives melodrama.  Syreeta was delightful, engaging in fact, and wove enticing tales of being a model in New York and how she and her boyfriend, Dixon, had met when he was Director of Marketing at the Lincoln Center.  As if on cue, there was another knock at the door and it was Dixon, coming to inquire about the whereabouts of his other half.

“I’m sorry, but I really need to steal Syreeta back to help me finish painting.”  Lisa stared again.  Dixon was 6 feet tall and had the same cocoa brown complexion of his lover.  His body showed evidence of many workouts and his t-shirt and sweat pants indicated that he had been working up a sweat getting things ready in the new house. 

Syreeta rolled her eyes and apologized about taking up too much time; looking like she was looking for any excuse to get out of doing work.  “Hey, want to come over for dinner on Saturday?  Bring the hubby and let’s make it a foursome, okay?”  With that, she leaned over and kissed Lisa on the cheek like they were long lost friends.  It was a little more intimate than Lisa was expecting and it gave her a thrill somehow, not really sure why but aware that there was some sort of unspoken exchange of electricity in the room. 

Lisa shut the door and was alive with sensation but she didn’t quite know why or what to do about it.  Her pussy was tingling and her clit was throbbing.  She hadn’t masturbated in years.  In fact, she couldn’t really remember the last time she’d been really horny.  On the rare occasion she felt like she wanted some sexual release she would get in bed with her husband and say, “Honey . . . “ and that was indication that he should get under the covers and go to work.  He’d lift up her conservative cotton nightgown and lick her to orgasm and the entire ordeal would be over without much else being said.  Lisa couldn’t wait for Brad to get home.  Every step she took she was reminded of her swollen pussy lips and the moisture that soaked her panties.  Had it been merely Syreeta’s presence that had aroused such fever?  She thought perhaps that the reason she was so horny must have been Dixon, with his muscular body flexing beneath his t-shirt and invoking fantasies of the forbidden.  Unable to concentrate, Lisa took a shower, aimed the showerhead directly on her clit, and fingered herself to a mind-blowing orgasm in the afternoon. 

All week long, Lisa was filled with new erotic sensations.  She started dressing up a little more during the day, wearing more makeup and more revealing clothing, and she would demand that Brad lick her to orgasm at night.  Closing her eyes, she would get lost in vague fantasies, fantasies of brown skin and heated passion and shadowy images of intense fervor that her body longed to feel.  Brad noticed the change in her conduct and loved every second of it.  Her libido was reawakened and she was more commanding in the bedroom.  Her orgasms seemed more intense; she seemed more determined to use his mouth for her pleasure. 

Brad appreciated the renewed sexual activity.  He would slide out of bed after having finished servicing his wife and sit in front of his computer screen.  His cock wouldn’t stay hard for sex but it sure as hell felt good when he pulled on it and looked at porn.  Mostly, he looked at images of white women being savagely fucked by gangs of black men.  He dreamt of Lisa being used and fucked by thick, long black cocks, his heart would flutter with jealousy, and his cock would drip with arousal.  He would stroke and dream of seeing her well-used cunt, dripping with cum and his mouth would water, fantasizing about the opportunity to tasty the sweet evidence of her infidelity.  He’d never dare mention any of his thoughts to his wife; she would never understand his deep desire to see her being fucked by a black man.  It just wasn’t something southern white women would even contemplate and it wasn’t something white men were supposed to jerk off to so he was content to live in secrecy and denial.

Lisa and Syreeta were spending more time together as the days passed.  By Friday night, by the time Brad came home, Syreeta and Lisa were giggling and whispering like teenagers and Dixon had to come retrieve his girlfriend, yet again, because they were going to be late for a very important dinner reception.  Syreeta winked at Lisa and said, “So we are soooo excited to see you tomorrow night for dinner.  Can’t wait in fact.”  She kissed Lisa goodbye, this time fully on the mouth, and it seemed to linger a little longer than one would expect and Brad felt a pang of jealousy that gave him a raging hardon.  Dixon just rolled his eyes, gave Brad a knowing wink, and ushered his lovely companion off for the evening.  They were barely out the door before Lisa had Brad on his knees licking her to orgasm in the kitchen. 

Saturday was the day of reckoning.  The kids had been packed up for sleepover dates with their friends and Lisa was in rare form.  All day long, it seemed like she couldn’t get enough oral sex and she was even getting more verbal than usual, more dominate in her commands.  “Get on your knees and eat my pussy.  Yeah, suck it.  I bet Dixon doesn’t have a worthless cock.  I bet he can get it up to fuck Syreeta and he doesn’t have to eat her out all the time.  I bet she gets that big hard black cock rammed in her pussy all the time.  I bet he has a gigantic cock” Her dialogue seemed to drive them both over the edge and they were soon both cumming like crazy; Brad wanking away while he drove his tongue deeply inside his lovely wife and Lisa practically suffocation her hubby by riding his face. 

Neither of them had the nerve to discuss the dynamic that was evolving between them.  They seemed to exist very happily with their unspoken new raison d’etre.  As Lisa prepared for their dinner date Brad could barely contain himself.  She put on a brand new outfit, one that she and Syreeta had picked out at the Northlake Mall.  The skirt was dangerously short and showed off her well toned legs.  The top was low cut as well and displayed her tits in a way that most mothers of 2 couldn’t do at 37 years old.  She put on a thong and, at the last minute, bent over in front of Brad and slid it off.  He practically shot a load in his pants then and there.  He couldn’t get over the transformation of his wife and how she’d become so sexual in such a short period of time. 

They knocked on the door at exactly 8 PM and Syreeta greeted them and invited them in.  They had decorated they house such that it didn’t even look like it belonged on such a quiet little enclave, it looked like something out of an interior design magazine.  Brad was expecting something more outlandish, like on MTV Cribs because that’s all he’d ever really known of Black wealth.  He had to check his own biases at the door because Dixon and Syreeta were far from stereotypical, they were two intelligent, articulate, extremely sophisticated people, and they seemed to be wildly in love with one another. 

Brad handed Dixon a bottle of wine and they went off to the dining room to enjoy a sumptuous meal of French onion soup, curry roasted duck, roasted asparagus with garlic, and focaccia bread while listening to some rarely heard tracks from John Coltrane.  The evening was flowing seamlessly and everyone but Brad seemed to have this secret that they were keeping.  The more wine that flowed, the more the unspoken glances were exchanged, and private jokes passed.  Brad laughed nervously as they seemed to be laughing at his expense. 

After dinner, they foursome retired to the living room and shared some cognac.  The alcohol had loosened Lisa’s inhibitions and she sat next to Dixon, ignoring Brad completely, pretending to be engrossed in a conversation about jazz when it was more than obvious she was simply using that as a pretense to press her body next to his.  Syreeta seemed to be running interference for her new friend, trying to distract Brad with conversation about Real Estate and things that would keep his focus off their respective partners.  Syreeta pulled Brad to the backyard with the pretense of looking at property lines and when they returned to the living room, Dixon and Lisa were nowhere to be found.  When Brad inquired where they went, Syreeta implied that it was nothing he should be worried about, that they were probably just getting better acquainted. 

Better acquainted was an understatement.  While Brad and Syreeta were in the living room making casual conversation about fixed mortgages, Lisa was in the bedroom, on her knees, with both hands wrapped around Dixon’s cock, stroking it and coaxing out precum to lick off.  That had been the plan for the better part of the week; Lisa was going to get fucked like she needed it and Dixon was going to serve up the dick like only he knew how.  She and Syreeta planned and plotted over coffee how she was going to become an insatiable slut right under Brad’s nose.  This was Lisa’s moment of reckoning.  Dixon pulled her tits out of her top and squeezed her nipples hard.  Lisa moaned and begged for him to do it harder, shocked at her own desires.  She wrapped her lips around his cock and started sucking it like a wanton whore.  Dixon grabbed her brown hair, pulled it like he was pulling reigns on a philly, and started fucking her mouth hard.  She was choking on that cock but she refused to stop sucking.  She was trying to get him to cum in her mouth.  She’d never let Brad cum in her mouth in their 12 years of marriage but she wanted to take Dixon’s load more than anything.  The harder he fucked her mouth, the more she licked and sucked and swallowed every black inch.  Lisa was up for the challenge and taking it all. 

Her pussy was throbbing and dripping and she was ready for the main course without much foreplay but Dixon had other plans.  He tossed her on the bed and pushed her tits together.  Her tits were a present from her husband for her 35 birthday and he grabbed them and squeezed them, he even slapped them at Lisa’s request.  She was craving rough treatment and she couldn’t get enough.  She was mesmerized his brown skin in contrast to her pale flesh.  Dixon alternated between fucking her tits and fucking her mouth and he was making sure that Lisa was aware of her place as his plaything with his words.  “Look at you, you nasty cunt, sucking my big black cock. I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll never be satisfied with your husband’s little prick again.  You’ll be begging me to bend you over and ram this big dick in you.  You love this, don’t you?  You know I’m about to fuck you senseless, don’t you?”

Meanwhile, back in the living room, Brad was getting more and more uncomfortable as time passed.  He kept looking towards the master bedroom, wondering if he could hear signs of sex or if it was just his imagination.  His cock was rock hard at the thought of his wife, merely feet away, getting filled with the cock of her black lover.  He couldn’t hide his arousal and he was trying to discretely rub himself.  Syreeta could sense his distraction and she toyed with him, whispering in his ear as she taunted him.  “He’s fucking her right now, you know that, don’t you?”  He’s got her bent over and he’s ramming his huge dick in her from behind, stretching her and filling her like you never could. 

Brad couldn’t swallow.  His eyes were glued in the direction of the bedroom and he was in a trance.  He’d never been more turned on in his entire life. 

“Oh god, it hurts.  Please, don’t stop.”  Brad choked for air as he could clearly hear the sounds of his wife’s cries coming from the bedroom.  His wife was engaged in some serious fucking and he didn’t know what to do.  Syreeta toyed with him as he strained to hear more.  He was sure he could hear the sounds of the headboard hitting the wall and Dixon groaning and telling his wife how good her tight white pussy was.  He was correct.  Lisa was on her hands and knees, getting banged hard, her tits flapping as a hard black cock hit her in places that hadn’t been touched in years.  Dixon had his thumb in her ass and he was threatening to fuck her there.  Lisa was begging for it loud enough for Brad to hear.  “Oh yes, fuck me hard, use my white pussy, fuck me good and hard.  Make me your white slut, I love your big hard cock.  Use my holes for your pleasure.  I want to feel your cum dripping from my pussy and my asshole.  I want your jism in my belly.  Oh yesss, I want to eat Syreeta’s sweet black pussy while you bang me hard from behind.  I’m a nasty, filthy, dirty slut for your cock.  Oh, shit.  I’m going to cum.  Please, leave your load in me.  Please give me your cum.  I’m cumming, I’m cumming.  Oh fuck I’m cumming.  She was cumming harder than she’d cum in years.  “Yes, Dixon, cum inside meeeeeee.  Please.”

In the living room, Brad was practically crying.  It was his dream come true, his fantasy made reality but he wasn’t there to witness it.  He wanted to ask Syreeta if he could lick her pussy but he wasn’t sure of the proper protocol.  He wanted to take his cock out and jerk it off with his ear pressed to the bedroom door.  He looked a Syreeta and she seemed calm, cool, and collected, like she and Dixon has done this plenty of times before.  He wondered briefly how they could have such an open relationship, one based on such freedom and communication. 

Lisa emerged from the bedroom, dressed, but disheveled.  She looked drained but glowing.  Her footsteps were shaky and she walked to Brad and kissed him squarely on the mouth.  He could taste the evidence of a sex on her lips.  Exhausted, she whispered, “Let’s go home.  Dixon and I made a special dessert just for you.”  Brad thanked Syreeta for the lovely meal and they hurried off next door, to enjoy the fruits of their experience and reap the creamy rewards. 

Copyright 2005 AfroerotiK


Wednesday, March 02, 2016

AfroerotiK Universal Laws of Sex




1.       Life should be a sensual experience:  We are sexual beings.  Sex is an inherent, primal, natural drive, just like eating and breathing.  Sex is not bad, sex is not wrong, sex is not a sin, sex is not for procreation only.  Pleasure is our birthright, our bodies were divinely crafted to experience transcendent, erotic ecstasy.  The moment when you are exploding in orgasm is the exact moment when you are closest to your truest God self.  Life should NOT be about the constant pursuit of sex but rather life should be about the pursuit of pleasure with the person who makes you a better person.  The intimate connection we share with someone doesn’t have to last forever, we don’t have to have one lover in our lifetimes, but we dishonor ourselves when we use people for sex, when we jump from bed to bed to bed without concern or respect for the person we are sleeping with. 

Life should be about the sensual in all things; in the food we eat, in the way we dance, in the way we navigate through the world.  Life is NOT meant to be spent working 40 or 50 hours a week, climbing the corporate ladder, paying bills, and being a slave to capitalism.  That is an illusion, a false reality created by a disconnected and unenlightened consciousness that has made us believe that our sensual natures are wrong and that the things we own give us value.  What makes you happy?  What gives you joy?  What makes you feel like you are about to explode with ecstasy?    Capturing that sensation and rejoicing in it is what life is about. 

2.       Intimacy is the fuel of life:  Vulnerability, that feeling of knowing you can be your true self with someone else, the feeling of knowing that you are seen for who you really are and that you are valued and loved just the way you are, with all your flaws and imperfections, is the source of our greatest power as a human being.  Intimacy is the foundation of our greatest potential because it comes from being truthful, with ourselves and with our partners.  Emotional honesty is the basis of our true power.  Shutting ourselves off to others, keeping people at an arm’s distance does not protect us from being hurt, it prevents us from having the connections that are essential to our maturation as spiritual beings; it’s not the safety measure we have convinced ourselves it is.  Taking off our masks, baring our souls, telling our secrets, and truly opening up to another person is real freedom, it’s empowering.  We become stronger for telling our fears and fantasies to the person who supports us, nurtures us, who can love us with all our failures.  Sharing yourself with everyone isn’t optimal because some people have bad intentions, some people will try to use your secrets against you.  The key is honing your emotional I.Q. to determine who is worth your emotional investment and who isn’t.   When you claim your power, when you are comfortable within yourself and you can share your fears with another, when you let another person in your heart, you will learn that you can’t be hurt by your secrets because you own them.

3.       Casual sex does not happen without consequences:  We are disconnected from a healthy sense of sexuality.  We do not understand the beauty and power of sex so we have perverted it to being the equivalent of nude exercise, masturbation with someone else’s genitals, something we do in the dark for fun or release with anyone who is available.  Much of what arouses us comes from an unhealthy place: from being molested, from being made to feel ashamed of our natural desires, or from a need to try to feel attractive and worthy and desired. 

Sex is an exchange of energy.  Every time.  Every time you share your body with someone, you are taking in the other person’s energy.  We should be selective with whom we share our intimate selves.  We should feel connected to the person with whom we share our sexual selves.  We can never really know ourselves if we are constantly taking on the energy of others.  That is NOT saying that we should be celibate and monogamous.  It is saying that we should honor our sexuality as sacred and not give it to anyone and everyone but only to those whom have come into our lives for a reason. 

Having sex with strangers, with whom you have no connection, who you don’t “love” (not romantic Hollywood love but genuine concern, regard, and respect for them as a person whom you value) is a perversion of our true natures and not at all healthy.  An energetic bond is formed with the people you have sex with.  TV and movies have convinced us that casual sex is no big deal, that there are no consequences.  Emotions and feelings ARE formed when you have sex with someone.  If you don’t honor those feelings in yourself and in your partner, if you ignore them, you are sexually immature.   Having a string of lovers who you can’t even remember their names, who you don’t know, who you have no interest in getting to know, who you have lied to just to get a nut, is a perversion of your sexuality.  You become more and more disconnected from your highest potential when you sleep with people you have no relationship with. 

Think of your soul like baking a cake; every person you sleep with in an ingredient.  You only want to put the proper ingredients in the bowl.  Flour, sugar, eggs, and baking powder all make a sweet, delicious, fluffy cake.  If you start adding more ingredients: pepper, ketchup, cheese, or vinegar you end up with a mess that is inedible, disgusting; keep adding more and more ingredients to your bowl and soon you have a nasty mixture that resembles nothing like a cake..  Make sure you are only adding ingredients to your cake that will make your recipe taste good.  It takes time to get to know someone, to see what they are made of, to find out what they can add to your life.    Be selective with your partners.  Variety is not the spice of life, it’s the spice that will ruin your cake. 

4.       Celibacy is unhealthy:  Just like casual sex has its negative consequences, so does abstinence.  We are sexual beings, we come to this consciousness, this illusion of life through the act of sex, we were created through pleasure.  Denying our sexual natures is just as unhealthy as randomly having sex with anyone.  The connection and intimacy we share with someone when we have hot, sweaty, passionate sex is healing, it’s soothing, and it’s transformative.  Denying ourselves pleasure keeps us disconnected from our highest potential.  Extended abstinence is detrimental to our psyches, it chokes our creativity, it makes us anti-social, and it makes us hold tight to false beliefs that keep us from realizing our greatest potential.  With extended celibacy, our true natures as sexual beings is denied and it distorts our sense of self because we shut off that part of ourselves that is ESSENTIAL to our being. 

People who go without sex suffer energetically from being cut off from the sweetness of sex, the beauty of it, from the healing powers of being intimate with someone else.  Celibacy cuts us off from the divine.  When we have sex, when we experience that release, life is sweeter, colors are brighter, the birds sing a more beautiful song.  Our spirits are soothed from sex.  We are told that sex is bad and wrong and that we should deny it if we aren’t married but that’s the foundation of our sexual dysfunction.   While it’s not healthy to jump from bed to bed, from relationship to relationship just to have sex, it’s not healthy to deny our sexuality either.  There must be time for introspection and reflection when we lose a lover, we need to take time to heal our wounds and re-evaluate our sexual identities at the end of every relationship, but shutting off our sexuality for prolonged periods is equivalent to anorexia or some other self-inflicted harmful behavior that cuts us off from our true natures and damages us.  We are a society of extremes.  We must find moderation, especially with our sexuality, to find true enlightenment. 

5.       Sex should never be a financial exchange:  I don’t care what your women’s studies professor told you, I don’t care how many sex workers yell and scream that they are empowered by selling themselves, it doesn’t matter if you justify your choices because you rationalize that you had to sell sex for your survival, sex in exchange for money is detrimental.  It’s about power.  It’s about the person with money buying an object to use.  There is this movement to claim that sex work is empowering because the recipients are getting money and that is supposed to make the transaction empowering as long as the sex worker is “choosing” to be used.  Our belief that money makes the buying of a human being okay as long as they consent to it, our belief that having more expensive stuff than the next person, and our belief that giving yourself to someone who has purchased you is the root of the problem.  
If a woman has to sell her body to keep a roof over her head or feed her children, that does not mean it’s empowering just because she gets a few bucks thrown on the nightstand.  It means that we devalue women’s lives and bodies as little more than a thing to be used by men.  If a woman sleeps with basketball players and rappers because she wants to be seen as attractive and buy expensive clothes, it does not mean she is empowered, it means that she doesn’t know that her true value as a woman has nothing to do with the label on her purse or the cost of her shoes.   Human beings are not things to be bought and sold.  Prostitution is NOT the oldest profession in the world, that is the insane rationalization that women are not equal to men in order to justify their objectification.  God consciousness did not create women to be the sexual playthings of men, to be bought or sold, to sell themselves to please men.  The same applies to same-sex transactions.   Until we understand that, we will be tied to dysfunction. 
6.       Cheating is wrong:  It shouldn’t even have to be said.  It shouldn’t but it does. If you are with a partner and you are lying to them, if you are being deceptive and having sex with other people while committed to someone else, you are unhealthy and wrong.  If you sleep with people who are in relationships, even if you aren’t in a committed relationship yourself, you are wrong.  Lying destroys relationships; cheating hurts partners and families.  Sex cannot be what it’s meant to be if you a betraying the trust of someone else.  For many people, the rush of cheating makes sex more exciting to them.  Cheaters do not understand the beauty of sex, they do not grasp the power of sex, cheaters pervert the true meaning of sex.    The person you choose to share your life with should be the person you should be the most honest with: about your desires, about your sexuality, about everything in life.  Any sex that is based on duplicity and infidelity, any sex that is a betrayal of a promise you’ve made to someone else to be faithful, is dysfunctional. 

7.       Sex should be uplifting:  Sex should not be about degradation or humiliation.  We, the human beings who have come together to share consciousness in this time and space, have collective low self-esteem.  We are disconnected from our higher selves.   We think God is an all-seeing man who lives in the clouds who will punish us for having sex.  We have been told that we were born in sin, that we are inherently evil for our desires, that virginity equals virtue.  We have been beaten and humiliated by the people who were supposed to nurture and support us.  We have been shamed for our sexuality, convinced that we are wrong for our inherent sexual drives.  We have been molested, raped, and abused by adults who wanted to pervert our innocence.  We watch hours of porn where women are degraded and abused as if that is the natural order of life, as if women were created by God to be used and slapped and treated like receptacles of men’s rage and frustration and lust. 

Any society that convinces its people that sex is wrong is going to create a people who are filled with shame about the beauty of our true sexual selves.  The shame that we internalize, from whatever source, manifests itself as being aroused by being treated badly because we feel that we are undeserving, that we have no value, because we believe we are unlovable and unworthy.  Conversely, the need to feel better about ourselves, to feel as if we have true power and worth, can come out in a need to humiliate and degrade other people sexually, to make others feel bad about themselves.  That is a perversion of what sex should be.  Sex should be about pleasure, passion, eroticism, and sensuality, PERIOD.  The need to be aroused by being degraded, or by degrading others, comes from a place of dysfunction.  Healthy sexuality is about being equal and raising our vibrational frequency with our partners.  Sex IS empowering.  If humiliation and degradation are what turn you on, if you want to hurt or be hurt during sex, you are missing the real meaning of what sex is about.