Faith Arisen

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“…She is MINE.” I stood stunned. THAT moment—the force of His words, His tone, His expression, His unapologetic lack of deference to polite societal vanilla norms—is forever branded on my soul. I’d never heard Him say those words to anyone. I’ve never heard anyone say those words. Not about me. Even when someone spoke those words about another, it never sounded like THAT. His fierce, unwavering conviction and open Claim of me was absolute. An irrevocable Law that anyone in His orbit must understand, accept, and Honor. For months, His stoic logic and reason have been moving some of the most fundamental tectonic plates of me. These words weren’t analytical. These words didn’t speak to my mind. They bypassed the analytical and struck the fault lines of my soul.  They called to my lioness. In that moment, she heard and saw the Primal Man roar His inherent Dominance and Authority over me, and His primal Claim set off a seismic shift that began with her instinctive and visceral surr...
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I Descend

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My Lioness paces her lair. She’s been patient and understanding, but now unrelenting hunger roars through my veins like a volcano about to erupt. I flashback to moments and lick my lips for a feast long overdue.

How His mouth shamelessly plunged again and again to drink my soul that very first night in front of a crowded bar.

The feel of that cigar pushing through my pussy lips.

Those hours He spent beating me just days later with His hands and that leather belt.

The ridge of Him pressed against my ass on the subway.

Pushing my ass into the air to accept the kisses from that leather strap as I balanced on that saw horse.

The raw pleasure etched on His face time and time again as I worshipped and devoured.

When He pushed me to the floor like a Man possessed and buried Himself in my ass for the first time as He bit me over and over.

Watching Him sink deep into another even as He reached for me and kissed me.

The vicious slap to my face before He took His whore to task and reminded me of my place in His life.

His smooth rock hard dick in my hand as I stroked Him like a good bitch in the car.

The moments He’s exposed His property to others without a shred of remorse.

When He interrupted my story with, “I want you. Now.”

One hand around my throat and another over my mouth as He drove into me.

With every fleeting memory I descend further into darkness.  We've only had time and energy to nibble at the edges of what we could be, and we can't keep holding back from the primal hungers that demand our souls' mates.

This isn’t just about His beautiful greedy dick, begging holes, or wicked sex.

That' won't be enough.
Not nearly fucking enough.

I tremble with need for His hunger and fury and control and demand and pain.  I don't want the kind, dutiful Man I adore.  The animal in me craves the fierce barely restrained beast that hides deep in His soul and longs to use, defile, and violate what's unquestionably fucking His.

~GROWL~
~DominaKat

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