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Showing posts from October, 2018

The Edge of His Darkness

It’s 3am. I should be unconscious, earning another two or three face creases from sleeping soundly on His t-shirt, but in the shadows and silence and blessed fuckin stillness, I selfishly steal the time from my pile of obligations to travel back to our last night, our last morning, and just savor the memories.  Words, images, moments flicker through my mind.  Until I settle there.  That.  I hit replay and replay and replay. Fuck. What He did to me….   What I can’t even bring myself to fuckin type.  Even here. No one has dared.  Except Him.  Except Him.  Except Him. Looking back, I see clearly the presence I had felt.  It was there.  In the look carved on His face.  The edge of a Darkness that He holds tightly at bay had come to watch me.  Somehow... after so long... I had caught His interest again.   I met His gaze without fear, and His vicious response was absolute. There was no warning.   No preparing me to take what was to come.   He. Gave. Me. No. Choice.   And in the quiet deep o

Masochist to the Vanilla Life Rescue (Laser Eye Surgery)

Five hours after lasers had been beamed into my eyes, I found myself in bed in a dark room with nothing but my thoughts to keep me, my two very pissed off eyes, and my BITCH of a headache company.  The recommended four-hour nap would have been a blessing, but my body below the neck hadn't done anything more than take a train ride that day, so I had only managed to kill two hours.  Obviously, the eye center didn't get a whole lot of kinksters.  A single adrenaline spike is never enough to put me down for the count.  One is merely foreplay for my greedy hungry soul.  Though no part of me wanted to go another round with PRK laser.  RED!!!  (Naaa...it wasn't that bad. Eye NUMBING!!! lol) Anyway...I was deep into the post-op phase of things, and I was trapped.  Blind/light sensitive as a bat and tiny slits to see through, I couldn't read, I couldn't write, I couldn't waste time on the news or Amazon Prime TV.  All I had were thoughts.  And all the thoughts revolved

His Dark Promises

Standing in the open door to the Mercedes Coupe, my head carelessly fell forward as His teeth nipped a trail of fire down the back of my neck and across my shoulder.  I could feel the demanding ridge of His dick against my ass, and my pussy wept with need.  I arched my back to give His mouth more access and to rub my ass against that tree trunk I ached to have buried inside me. "That's it.  Beg for it.  I wanted to bend you over the table the moment I saw you."  Warm strong hands reached up and pulled apart the deep neckline of my dark red dress to expose my bulging breasts to the cool night air. I hissed from the sharp pain of my fat nipples morphing instantly to pierced berries ripe to be plucked. He didn't resist and latched on to both with a deliberate firm grip before a slow release.  Again a squeeze and a release.  "The waiter kept looking at your breasts."  Another squeeze and release between the bites at my neck.  "I should have pulled the

The Eye of the Storm

On my knees in silence. The winds of our need quiet. The rain of our passion dwindles. Time stands still.     In the eye of the storm.     I wait.         Battered.         Raw.         Yet still strong and fierce.          I survived. The imminent demand of dark clouds stalk the horizon. I bite my faint smile of anticipation. Distant thunder growls its menacing warning. That I instead embrace.     In the eye of the storm.     I wait.         My roots of loyalty and honor.         Keep me grounded.         I brace myself knowing...         I will survive. Violence trembles in my peripheral vision. This storm will soon break once more. Across my stoic soul. And a storm surge of hunger will overwhelm every that I am.     In the eye of the storm.     I wait.         To unleash my sexual fury.         And drown in His dark greed.         Through a surrender to my own Truth.         I will have survived. ~DominaKat

My Self-Underappreciated Pussy & Football

Last week while crammed in a NYC streetfront pizzeria complete with another diner less than an inch from my shoulder and well in hearing range (~shrug~ city life LOL), a heated and passionate debate sparked as I took a bite of my favorite ginormous greasy slice.  Sherpa and I had somehow wound our way into discussing arguing  DEBATING female masterbation, specifically my own current lack of inspiration and desire to do so. Meh.  I get like that sometimes. Sherpa - specifically TPL - was fucking appalled.  How could I be so dismissive and unappreciative of my pussy?!? The mind-boggling yet surprisingly fantastic analogy:  Sex = football. Masturbation = watching football. If my team (partner) is IN the game (masturbation with Him present or at the very least firmly/deeply in my headspace)... Oh hell yeah...I am ALL in!  I am enthusiastic as fuck, my jersey on, and ready for MANY MANY MAAAAAANY Touchdowns!!!  There is gonna be cheering and moaning and groaning and a mother fuck

A Fearless Masochist

Continuing to ponder my masochist and discovering little kernels of Truth... I don’t have fear. At least not any more. When the shit I once coped with on a daily basis was so vicious, nasty, and evil that I could barely even speak of it, it’s difficult to be afraid of the Pain a trusted partner might deliver in the context of a BDSM scene. Probably naive of me, I know.  There are many talented Sadists out there.  Maybe it would be better if I said...I don’t have fear YET. But still...I'm not sure there could be a "YET." A few things that have tumbled around my head as I've considered how fear might exist for my masochist... I don’t have phobias to play off and exacerbate. My response to sudden fear tends to be anger and swift violence, so maybe we really shouldn’t play in that pond.  I long ago trained myself to face and confront situational fear.  "Fuck it...let's roll/do this."  Having spent years on the South Side of the Yo makes most

I Belong

It's late.  My ass should be in bed snoring, yet I find myself too wired to cozy up in my nest.  Tonight feels like an unexpected milestone for myself.  Out of the blue I was asked to join a community event as a panelist.  I was flattered of course, but quite cognizant that while I've been involved in the lifestyle for about nine years now and have been thoughtful and introspective of my journey, I'm not what anyone would consider some wildly experienced kinkster who's spent every weekend doing more and more intense kinkiness. No, surprise...surprise...I haven't run around jumping on every type of ride available in Kink-Topia.  I don't chase the dragon. That isn't the important part of the journey for me.  What is important for me is that I find meaning, purpose, and fulfillment in what it is that I do.  In that...I am a serious participant.  Every day I seek to take another step in my journey of self-discovery within the lifestyle. Throughout the last

Embrace Failure to Thrive

Damn near every community in the last year has had some sort of drama at their doorstep.  Rightfully, we ALL NEED to understand consent backwards and forwards, protect each others' privacy, and be on guard for asshole abusers.  Responsible kinksters go to classes, read up on best practices, spend long hours considering.  All good things.  We all should be thoughtful in our interactions with each other. If you're anything like me, the drama as well as all this thought and consideration has also created some anxiety.  Most of us are intent on “doing things right” - not just as it relates to consent but in play.  No D/Top-type wants to cause physical, mental, or emotional damage, and no s/bottom-type wants to be on the receiving end of damage.  We all want to have a fabulous time every time we indulge in our kinky lifestyle. Guess what?  That's unfucking realistic.  And we NEED to talk about it. An impossible expectation of perfection in a scene/play currently exist

My Submission to The Universe

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I learned long ago not to fight the Omnipotent power of The Universe's will, especially this time of year. When She repeatedly sends the same message in a dozen different ways, it is a good idea to stop, listen, and accept the direction She has chosen. There is a lesson/challenge She has put in my path. In essence, I submit to Her. To defy Her is to get my ass kicked every damn time. So with Nina Simone and a lil Mary J. Blige accompanying me as I find my words... Universe...I hear you. I submit to Your will. Over the last several months, Male energy has dramatically receded from my inner perimeter in essentially all facets of my life. I've been unable to slow - let alone stop - the retreat. (I tried a bit at first not seeing the broader theme.) I know without a doubt the love and appreciation is still there in all cases. The distance I am experiencing is not a reflection of shifted feelings. Life has simply demanded their attention and efforts. In every in