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

Blood on My Claws

I am fucking fierce in protecting those I love.  It's not a pretty thing, nor is it kind.  When a battle line is drawn and a fight is at hand, I pull no punches with my team or against those that seek to cause harm.  Everything I say is true.  My recommendations are 95% of the time on point.

My ex used to say I that I often handed out the truth on a garbage can lid rather than serve it on fine china.  He was right.  When the truth is ugly, I've found most people pretend it's not there if it's sitting on pretty, fragile, dinnerware.  But when time is of the essence and the risk is great, slam that garbage can lid on the ground at someone's feet, and usually they finally quit fucking around and acknowledge its reality.

I can be ruthless.  I can be vicious.  I will fucking draw blood and feel no remorse.  I never start shit, but I will fucking finish it.

I've learned the hard way that bullies, manipulators, and attackers rarely take hints.  Hints or nudges just prompt them to try to take more ground and more control of the situation.  However, they will begin to respond when they feel pain.  I ain't gonna lie...My Sadistic Bitch does enjoys their pain.

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All that ^^^ ain't what 99% in the lifestyle would deed submissive behavior, and there's my challenge.

My lioness...a seed that's always existed in me combined with nearly a decade in the Yo and fine-tuned as I battled for my place in NYC.  She is what confuses so many who see, meet, catch a glimpse of me.  "What are you?" I was asked multiple times at a recent M/s event.

My lioness can be a dangerously brutal force of nature.  I don't cower in shadows and play passive aggressive games or hide in fear.  I will be right next to my Lion in the fray.  I'm proud of that strength, confidence, courage, and loyalty.

Yet occasionally in reflection, I question the submissive nature of my beast when kind words and politeness are more often the gold standard.  I do not fit the usual s- model of behavior.  My aggressive response to bullshit can easily be misinterpreted unless cause is taken into account.  Even then it's hard for most to understand.

Of course, in the end it always boils down to Him - what He desires - what He deems appropriate - what He is able or prefers to control or command at His whim.

I can be no more or less than what I am.  Sometimes when the situation demands actions, I will need to wipe blood off my claws.
~DominaKat

Comments

  1. Your lioness has been tried by fire. Tempered in the ways of steel mills like thos of the YO and Pittsburgh. Tho those fires have long since grown cold and their structures stand rusted and silent, your blade,your strength burns brighter than the blast furnaces contained within .
    Those who are fortunate to be held close to you,know and understand what a privilege that is.
    The Lion who finally finds you and fills that need within you, will be proud to have you by his side,( or at his feet as the case may be)

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