In Tatters

I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made. My struggle to succeed was stark. No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances. As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction. Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service? Frustrated at my inability to get it together? Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in? I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel? His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me. Fuckin unwavering. He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t stepped back. I swear He may have even leaned in. As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply

Sliced Open...Lick My Sins

It's rare that I have the bandwidth to write any more, let alone post a finished piece.  It's rarer still that I'm inspired not to give a fuck and simply write to slice myself open unapologetically and spill out the truth of the moment.

I'm still learning.  I'm still trying to understand Him.  I know I like that mood He gets in when He believes I might be a handful.  He's harder then.  He's colder then.  He's more precise and demanding.  He's more committed to hurting me then.  And my masochists licks up that pain like a kitten to cream.

I am not the same submissive, masochist, s-whatever I once was.  The layers are more separated.  The pieces of me more demanding with sharper borders that don't HAVE to co-exist.  In between each lies the soul of a lioness waiting, watching, wondering.

He hurt me.
I found a sliver of peace.
He fucked me.
I found pleasure.
I sucked Him.
And I sucked Him.
I found a whore's reward.

His different moods intrigue me.  There's a thread of similarity but difference I can't yet define.  I want to play with them all and seek their depth.  In all of them there is depth of passion and truth that fades somehow in the every day Him.

I wish He would believe that He didn't have to convince me.

I get wet just thinking of Him and sin...

Head down.  Ass up.  Us both on the bed.  His hand forcing my head to the mattress as He ruts cruelly in His whore and takes.

His half smile of amusement as He tugs at the clothes of His bitch and exposes my flesh to His friend.  That proper British accent masking the words "whore", "my bitch", and "for us to use" to seem so polite and kind.  He gropes my fat tits.  He spreads my thick thighs.  He watches as my whorish truth is revealed and my cunt weeps to be fucked by them both.

Kneeling between His legs.  His dick in my mouth.  I worship.  In front of them all.  They watch with hard dicks as I lick, suck, mouth, devour His meat like a ravenous bitch.  All of them hard with their dicks in their hands, wishing they could experience just a minute of what He owns.

Naked.  A prop.  A tool.  A lesson.  To mentor what it is to be a Man with a woman.  To let the inexperienced young Man find his rhythm.  In me.  To practice control.  In me.  He'd watch amused and objectively.  Offering suggestions.  Advising on technique.  All the while basking in degrading me through the weekly lessons.

Shit.  The twisted warped thoughts I weave...

And then the questions...

Is obedience submission?  I no longer believe it is.
Ownership...can it be just a piece?  Or is it truly supposed to be the whole?
Can my submission come without pain?  Or is pain truly what leads me?
Will my little girl ever come out of her coma?  Somehow...I truly doubt it.
Am I finally finding the various mediums in what has always been a single on/off switch?

Of Kings and Queens, I choose...Goddess.  lol  Fuck you, if you couldn't embrace my religion.

That razor sharp edge...like a paper cut who's pain slices so deftly through my mind and down my spine. ~licks lips~

Domina...she becomes more solid with each passing day.  You all keep feeding her.  ~sigh~  Just what the fuck am I gonna do with that sadistic monster?  The answer...eventually beat a lot of people's asses.

I've rested.  I thought.  I've let myself spend most of the last three days just breathing, and finally I've found my voice.  I've given up finding answers and no longer care if my thoughts are clear.  I am simply basking in the fireworks of my greedy, hungry, slutty, kinky mind.

Fuck it.  Post.  Only my stalking ex-husband and his wife will read anyway.  You two crack pots are true fans.  LOL  Drink up my sins.  I know they make you feel better about your boring life.
~DominaKat

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

DominaKat's Lifestyle Classes I What I Teach & Bio

CLASS WRITE UP | Know Your Service Boundaries (for BOTH sides of the /) | Lessons from the Trenches of a Service Whore

CLASS WRITE UP | The 9 Service Languages of Authority Transfer Relationships & Dynamics