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Showing posts from July, 2019

In Tatters

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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
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I'm Not the Concierge to the Kinky Wonderland Entrance

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I fucked up a few weeks ago.  Did something stupid.  REALLY STUPID. At the enthusiastic prompting/encouragement of a half-outed kinkster, I fully outed myself to a friend of his (who he swore was kinky) and invited them to join me for a local class I was about to attend. Commence the fucking TRAINWRECK. In under 120 seconds... She revealed missing KEY pieces to their previous interactions that caught me completely off guard.  No...owning my shit here...I felt like an absolute fool. Yes, she had her own alternative lifestyle interest (poly) and seemed openmind to hearing about my own BDSM interests.  She was decently knowledgeable on basic terminology and agreed to join us, but she acted WAY cooler than she was. He got weird and started a bit of a shock-and-awe act as I answered her questions, which amplified my feeling used and more a fool. I without really thinking in this rushed conversation that was quickly picking up speed and tension outed Him another significant deg
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Is Control the Bane of Pleasure and Authenticity?

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A Stray Kat Seeks Sanctuary

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A portion of Henri Rousseau's The Dream 1910 hanging at MoMA. To have an Owner is to have a Home.  Maybe not a literal domicile/location/permanent residence, but a mental and emotional Home— a base of safety from the harsh struggles of the day.   That warm strong body of protection to rest under...for even just a moment.  A solid anchor where at least a small bit of life is grounded and firm. Even a Lioness needs to rest once and awhile from life's hunts.   Even a Lioness needs a sanctuary from unexpected storms.  A protector as she heals from the cut of an unseen spear. I haven't had a Home in many, many years now, and 99.9% of the time I'm ambivalent even appreciative of my gypsy status as I fearlessly prowl for experiences which will feed my soul.  But not tonight. While I've found a general base in my community, I'm still just a stray Kat.  Tonight I wish I had a sanctuary.  No words are needed.  I can't find them.  No leading required.  
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June/Pride Event Drop is a THING!

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It's the second week of July, and if you're dragging a bit or just a little down (ESPECIALLY you TES Fest attendees), you aren't alone.  You're not crazy.  July's event drop feeling is a THING! This is my third year actively in the local scene, and I've finally put it together.  Even if you didn't do any of the HUGE events (Folsom Street East, the Balls/Special Parties/etc, Pride Parade, TES Fest) in the last five weeks or aren't LGBTQA, the month of June naturally just is amped up for Pride Month.  Almost every class, meeting, group is at a minimum adds just a little bit more, and there were likely a ton of special events cramming your calendar to celebrate with friends. The very energy of NYC shifts!  June is essentially kinky holiday month like December is in the vanilla world.  There's more love in the streets, the subways, the billboards, the air!!!  The city is literally painted with rainbows.  It is truly beautiful and energizing. Now th
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My Initial Steps Toward Sisterhood

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I wrapped up my ONYX Pearls' interview with the itch to write scratching my scalp.  The simplest of questions yet sadly I had had no immediate or definitive answer.  "What does Sisterhood mean to you?" For many reasons—some situational, some ugly—I've never engaged with groups of women.  To be transparent, it's only been since I entered the local scene that I've even aligned myself with any formal groups.  Despite my current active involvement with various pieces of the NYC Kink Community, I'm actually more of a loner.  My interests have always been too varied, my style too straightforward or unique, my tolerance for drama and betrayal waaaaay too low.  I tend to float between a diverse cross-section of activities, people, and interests.  This allowed for an eclectic assembly of experiences and continually fueled my independence. The root of it all is...I've never sought group approval or status.  That phenomena is all just...sort of lost on
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Why "Owner/property" Rather than "Master/slave"?

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A question came my way last month, "Why Owner/property?  As opposed to Master/slave?"  I struggled to answer beyond, "'Property' felt right.  'Slave" has never worked for me."  I didn't add at the time that neither has "Master."  (I was trying to be semi-well-behaved and not offend anyone.)  I've always struggled to answer the 'property' vs 'slave' question, but I searched deeper on my train ride home and have continued to play with the puzzle pieces.  Turns out, there was a lot to unpack and fit together. There are many implied nuances that apply to both "slave" and "property":  belonging, protected, the follower of a leader, etc.  All of those resonate deeply within me.  Always have.  However, FOR ME, "slave" felt inherently wrong, like a dress that fit poorly and whose fabric itched the moment it touched my skin.  Despite my knowledge that I have been/could be utterly devoted to
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My First Serious Date with Pain

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Yep...I finally had that serious first date with Pain.   My ass felt like the sun !  In addition to the post play physical after effects, there were the dozens of mental ah-ha! moments.  Soooo many initial answers found and lessons learned.  Damn...I love what we do! As I mentioned in To Play with My Pain , I've always had an intermediary in most of my early meetings with Pain.  Maybe intermediary wasn't the right word...more like translator.  Being sado-centric/partner-centric , Pain spoke to me through the context of my relationship and my Partner's pleasure and satisfaction.  If it spoke directly to me, it was mostly introductions or incidental pleasantries. Although the last time I'd played with my previous Sir over a year ago, I would say that I'd definitely lost our translator for the majority of that session.  I hadn't felt connected with Him like I should have, and it showed...or more accurately was FELT.  LOL  That experience challenged my belief
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