The 9 Service Languages | Intensive Session Wrap Up Thoughts

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On Sunday, I wrapped up my first small group FULL INTENSIVE workshop that spanned 6+ hours over the course of 2 days. Anyone who has sat through my Intro class knows, The 9 Service Languages is a fucking BIG IDEA! When I first launched my class, I naively believed it could be tackled in a typical 90-minute or 2-hour session. I quickly learned that was impossible and that few platforms (cons, orgs, mtgs) had the ability to hold space for me and attendees to get DEEP in the weeds of WIITWD as it relates to Service. I am PROFOUNDLY HONORED that @S-O-C—the Service Oriented Conference—reached out to me earlier this year to be a part of their inaugural Intensive Program. They were the perfect partner with the perfect target audience for an Intensive of The 9 Service Languages of Authority Transfer Relationships/Dynamics. The session allowed me to work with a small group as we got our hands dirty, dissecting where, when, how, and why we do Service and considered ways to adjust, tweak, evol...
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Intoxicated - Part I

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Amid Grand Central's cavernous majesty and a sea of rush hour chaos I waited.  Tick. Tock.  I was early.  The butterflies of excitement I'd felt getting ready to leave work had settled.  I wondered if anyone noticed my now braless breasts under the v-neck dress I'd worn today at the office.  I didn't give a fuck.  It's New York.  Naked beneath my dress didn't even register on the city's crazy scale.  I wondered if He'd care.  If the fact that I offered Him such access to me would matter.

 So much still unknown but I was on this path.  To see what could be.  I refused to temper myself.  Fuck it.  Never again.  This is who I was for a Man who tempted my lioness to wake.  Tick.  Tock.

 There.  Him.  Smiles.  Hugs.  A chaste kiss.  No obvious heat.  The masks of our real lives and professional personas still firmly in place.  Chit chat.  Practicalities.  Nothing out of the ordinary...but there...that softness in me.  That something that just naturally shifted every time He was near.  The need to give.  That first tiny blush of submission.  The natural easy shift of control.  Chit chat.  Chit chat.  My information.  His choices.  Laughter and smiles.  So much to say and discuss.  His lead.  The effortless transition.  We made our way to the subway's maze.  

 Stairs.  My thighs slick.  No...DRENCHED.  What the fuck?

 He'd done nothing sexual.  There were no salacious thoughts in my head.  Yet my body responded instinctively.  It needed no prompting or reassurances or logical explanations.  It wasn't cold and trapped behind a wall of ice.  My sexuality had simply been waiting for the scent of an Alpha Lion to tempt it.    

The subway doors opened and the fight to find space among the rush hour horde began.  The car was packed, and we'd barely squeezed in.  His back to the closing doors.  My back to Him.  I leaned into Him and reached behind me.

 OhfuckyesfuckyesfuckYES...His hard bulge met my palm.  The whore in me sighed in satisfaction.  To please Him.  Whispers.  Sighs.  Giggles.  The world fell away.  I cupped, stroked, held His dick without hesitation despite the hundred other people surrounding us, despite the woman sitting against the rail, who only had to turn her head and see me rubbing His rock hard length.  The rough texture of His jeans warmed and tightened.  His hand on my waist, I moved my hand and ground my fat ass against Him.  Lost in Him and His response, I felt beautiful and sexy and strong and alive and fucking free.  My nipples hardened.  Wet heat coated my thighs.  ~sigh~

 Our stop.  We rose from the dark tunnels into the hectic streets.  His dick still hard.  My thighs begging to be spread.  Crossing the street became a resented distraction.  My attention was devoted to Him.  Walk.  Talk.  What the fuck? We're not horny teenagers.  But shit.  This.  Absolute unequivocal response to one another.  Bookstore browsing forgotten.  We dove into the movie theater.  

 Next one showing.  We didn't care what.  Honestly, I couldn't even make sense of the reader board.  I was buzzing hard off Him.  Intoxicated.  Escalators.  Chit chat.  Laughter.  Popcorn.  Dark blessed theater.  We climbed to the very top to the very corner to the most private dark spot we could find as quickly as possible in a city that gave no privacy.

 When He finally spread my legs and slipped His hand between my whorish wanton thighs... ~sigh~  Fuuuuuuck.  Yes.  This.  For Him.  I am.  A shameless greedy slut.
~DominaKat

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