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Showing posts with the label My Journey

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

Failure of My Situational Mathematics

He has caught me off guard more times than I can count the last couple of months.  That’s an unfamiliar feeling, almost disorienting.  My situational mathematics lean a bit cautious, but they are historically usually pretty damn accurate.   Except apparently in regards to Him.  (A pattern continues. lol)  The further along we move the more my situational mathematics utterly fail me.   Mmmmm, that's not 100% true.  All of my less sapio pieces intrinsically know and understand Him in a way that defies fucking logic or reason, but their lack of tangible data makes Alfred and the Consigliere crazy.  Then the Spiritual Chick walks in talking about "energy" and "we've done this all before many times," and my logical bits simply stop talking, since there's truly no point in wasting thought let alone words once she gets in on the conversation.  Their assessments change nothing. Yes...it can be a little noisy in my head at times.  lol But He even surprised all my

When There's No Responsible Personality Left to Supervise

NYC is almost within reach, just a few hours away.  I won’t lie.  I’m tired as fuck.  This weekend was a growth experience in more ways than I can currently count—with my fierce, BADASS Sister, with my Tribe, with my Community, for myself.  However I can’t shake the weariness nor find the blessed relief of sleep on this rainy, dreary return trip.   Instead I'm stuck.  I haven't been able to process all that happened or the resulting emotions that have filled me the last few days as I've run from one thing to another.  I'm trapped in a drop from a high that held no physical release.  Adrenaline, worry, joy, situational excitement, fierce pride, relief…yes to ALL that.  But energy-infusing pleasure or pain?  Orgasm?  Tears?  There was none of that in my cards.  Now in post-game, it’s everything I can do to maintain a train of thought and get my ass through the next step, and the next, and the next, so i can eventually get back to my little sanctuary.  ~whimper~  On top of

The Co-Creation of a New Service Dialect | My Initial Steps

I am very slowly learning, attempting, exploring a new service dialect that I know little to nothing about. Most would think, "No big deal," especially for me.  I consistently reach for new information, ideas, points of view to add to my toolbox, especially in the lifestyle through classes, discussions, panels, cons, etc.  Those closest to me have graciously poured endless tanker trucks of knowledge, concepts, and skills into me over the years, fueling my Lifestyle Journey as well as my personal and professional paths.  I am curious as hell and don't hesitate to find ways to feed my often voracious mind.   But when a romantic interest who would RECEIVE said service is the One instructing and assessing my progress of GIVING service???  Oh...that shit is a completely new experience for me in addition to the subject matter.   There was, of course, the fresh breeze in my mind that always happens when opening up new pathways for growth, but I hadn't considered the nuances

At The Mercy of His Hands

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It’s been two fucking days, yet my cunt still weeps for Him as if His dripping fingers had only just stopped sinking into my hot, juicy, greedy, clenching hole.  Hasn't mattered where I have been or what I have been doing.  Work, writing, waiting too long for a damn bus that never arrived, nibbling at food, catching up with my Board, commuting through the city via my feet, trains, and cabs, I have just been...soaked for the last 48+ hours.   I was wet before my Uber had even crossed Whitestone from the Bronx in my cross-borough pilgrimage.  As the twinkle of Manhattan's skyline beckoned in the distance, my disorganized mind and unexpectedly chaotic nerves froze in recognition of that solitary truth my slick thighs spoke of.  My body was already reaching for Him—had already completely surrendered—despite the illogic, the lack of plans, the absence of sexy anticipatory promises.  My body knew something my mind didn't, a trend that has continued to intensify and shows no sign

Laundry Service Revelations

Shit. I folded his clothes. I’m not joking. I got within two feet of that soft warm heap of pants, shirts, tees, briefs, and socks, and my hands instinctively dove in like I’d done this for him a thousand times before.  Zero hesitation.  I paused briefly in shaking out a shirt to ask a quick question on preference and kept right on serving...In sheer fuckin bliss. SMH. Context...I haven’t folded a man’s clothes in over seven years. Hell, I don’t even fold my own clothes.  NYC's relationship with laundry is a bit different than most of this country's.  Between no in-apartment appliances and a sucky commute that eats an entire functional day a week, it’s NYC drop off service for me, please and thank you.  However, it's more than just practicalities responsible for the seven year hiatus, and there is a significance within my simple actions that I can’t ignore. Truth | I essentially have a long-established hard limit: Unless there is an emergency, urgent need, or serious il

The Primal Bitch None of You Warned Me About

*** Drafted 11.21.23 *** Fuuuuuuuck...why didn't ANY of you warn me? Like...REALLY??? How many times have we sat together through classes, discussions, panels, round tables?  Yet NOT ONE of you mother fuckers said a damn thing about how this shit really might go down. Grrrrrrr... You ALL suck and officially can no longer be trusted.   She's been a part of me for so long.  She's guided me.  She's empowered me.  She's protected me. I thought I understood her. I thought I knew her. I thought I could anticipate her. But...this??? Fuuuuck…This is new fuckin territory, one I don't have a damn clue how to navigate, and if I'm honest, a part of me DOESN'T want to navigate it.  I just want to lose myself again and again to it.  To her.  To Him.   ~GROAN~ She just slips in and... Takes. Fucking. OVER! Again...you fuckers NEVER discussed THIS shit. That I wouldn't be...COULDN'T be... Rational. Reasonable. Thoughtful. Considerate. IN FUCKIN CONTROL. ~sigh

ONYX Pearls NY-NE | Rededication

Yesterday, ONYX Pearls NY-NE celebrated our 7th Anniversary, and I recognized four years since crossing into Leather.  It was a beautiful afternoon of celebrating our kaleidoscope of personalities and the connections we have forged through joy, laughter, tears, fire, personal growth, and leather during our journey.   As a key part of our ceremony, we collectively rededicated ourselves to The Chapter by retaking our oath and were asked to share of few thoughts about our individual experiences and most importantly our Why.  The below reflects the words I shared yesterday with my sisters and siblings.   However, I would be remiss in this more personal reflection if I did not call out two Sisters who have quite frankly altered the course of my life.  From the moment I met each of these amazing women, I was drawn to them.  Their energy instinctually spoke to me, and we have since woven bonds of Sisterhood that reach deep into my body, mind, heart and soul.  They have each embraced me, taugh

To Own Me | An Answer to My Critics

I'm too independent... I'm too intense... I'm too deep... To be on the right side of the slash? No problem.  Because I'm not – nor will I ever be – your fucking problem. I fully acknowledge that I am all the things my many critics have accused me of, and I apologize for none of it.  I can be nothing but my authentic self, and I refuse to restrain myself or be less, so others can be more comfortable with who I am or how I identify.  Fuck you for thinking I should.   I am a V12. The Man who chooses to Own me will be able to...        Race the shadows of the night.      Hug the curves life throws us like we're on rails.      Rocket us in any the direction He seeks. I am a Lioness. The Man who dares to Own me will have...      A fierce protector at His side.      An apex predator to hunt the world with Him.      A primal beast under Him to sate His wickedest desires.      A loyal companion to curl contentedly at His feet. I am a Force of Nature. The Man who takes Contro

Lose Control

Music has always fed my soul, but I'm embarrassed to admit how much I've lost touch with it.  The last six months, I've purposely opened myself up again to cultivate its unique love, passion, and joy in my life.  Often it's those closest to me who lead me to tracks that speak so deeply to me.  This one?  Compliments of my sister, Bastet. ~sigh~ From the first line, it gripped me by the throat and said, "Bitch, listen."  The storytelling of a passion without logic or reason that strips any scrap of pride from the soul...left me hypnotized, lost in a memory I can still barely wrap my mind around.   Only one Man has ever inspired in me this kind of soul-tumbling, pride-bruising complete loss of control.  He's the first to ever bring my lioness fully to the surface under Him, scattering all my logic, all my intentions, all my slick little cute moves...leaving only a primal hungry reasonless beast growling in a heat and lust so complete I couldn't rememb

Stripping Off the Bullshit

The last six months I've been in the process of intentional purging—shedding the physical, mental, and emotional layers that no longer serve me.  I've done this before at other key points in my life.  This urge often precedes a time of major transformation in my life, each of which has always brought me closer in alignment to my truth and the fulfillment of my needs and desires.   In many ways, I'm a minimalist with a simple life that holds many complicated...nuances.  After half a dozen cycles of metamorphosis in my years, what I leave behind now holds little to no emotional, mental, or physical value to me.  This round of stripping off the bullshit feels incredibly easy, natural, right.  Wholehearted relief.  I'm cleansing myself of unnecessary weight, so that I can adapt to the future that is coming for me.    Then comes the acknowledgement of what remains.  Previously, I've had to face ugly truths and heal deep wounds that were brought to light.  I won't pre

Reflection & a New Path

SPLF 23 represented a abrupt shift in my journey.  I wasn't prepared to be seen, to be acknowledged in the sea of humanity, to be wrapped in tight hugs. let alone be fiercely protected and held firmly side-by-side.  I was both deeply humbled and profoundly honored.  Many times. Those five days in Dallas moved me and pushed me on another new path of transformation. After years of pandemic coping that focused only on areas in my life I could evolve, I remembered I had a heart. And...After years of watching how individuals moved/did not move, stood/did not stand, built/attempted to destroy, were 100% authentic/fakers of funk, driven by idealistic goals/greedy self-promotion, I realized I needed fucking space to breathe. Since the Spring, I've been reevaluating how I move, what I give, when I should engage, where I need to be, and who I directly or indirectly offer my co-signature.  I've taken many healthy steps to create a more positive environment for myself and connected in

Flesh Privileges

Sometimes a bitch just needs to be snatched up.  A slow harmless caress that gently eases into thought-shattering pain.  In a heartbeat nothing mattered in my world but where His hand touched me. No passersbys on their way home from their Manhattan commute. No dog walkers following their four-legged companions along crowded sidewalks. No city bike riders feet from His driver's side door. All that mattered was my surrender to Him and the pain that echoed throughout my body. I needed His touch and bruising acts of methodical violence more than I needed my next breath. My world simply felt better suffering under Him. My masochist woke from her slumber and wept in relief. My Lioness stirred for the first time in weeks, listening in case He called. My whore longed for Him to spread her legs and take everything and anything He wanted from her. My dress crept up my thighs even as slickness drenched them. My hands clenched and teeth dug into my bottom lip. I lost count of my quiet whimpers

Spontaneous Serendipity

My Saturday did NOT go as I expected at ALL.  A whole lot of never ever coulda been planned spontaneous serendipity manifested that resulted in even MORE of DominaKat’s rules of order being broken and breaking open of multiple shoeboxes.   Fuck me...How the hell are these disorderly events becoming a THING?!?   ~whimper~  It was messy and beautiful and stomach lurching and thrilling and ended in a rituals of reverence that stole my breath away once again. The Universe is definitely demonstrating Her power and yes...some twisted Sadism. lol  As I watched Her simultaneously converge, in literally minutes and from multiple directions, various key stars in my sky, my vision may have swam.  I wasn’t fuckin prepared for any of it, which is also starting to feel like another damn theme in my life of late , but I trusted, gave in, and surrendered again to Her will.  What was meant to be was gonna be, regardless of my comfortability.  She has taken a very firm hand with me the last couple of mo

The Seduction of Earth Energy

It was around 7pm when I first felt its whispers.  From my spot—legs spread wide to stretch on the warm sand—a dark, earthy, slow-as-shit pulse began to seep into my cunt and lick my thighs, calves, and feet.  Within 30 minutes, the energy shift was tangible, from Coney Island's daytime chaos of fusion jazz with a thousand cymbal clashes and multiple keyboard lines to evening's more grounded, indigenous bass line of drums that teased and seduced my soul.  As folks departed the beach, the natural earth energy, no longer held down by the mass of humanity's emotion and need, rose like a tide to wash over me and snatch me down to its lair.   Stripped of emotions and encased in a cool comforting Peace, every part of me slowed down to a crawl.  After revving high for days...weeks...I purred at idled as the sun dropped behind the manufactured lights and gave way to the sharp glow of a New Moon...new beginnings. That was last night.   More than 16 hours later, this energy still has

The Opportunity to Worship

Mmmm...I DEEPLY appreciate and raise up a Man who sees an opportunity and seizes on it without hesitation or apology and leans in to deliberately make room, make time, make the fucking most of what is in front of Him. He didn't sit on the sidelines. He didn't have to find His balls. He didn't think on it for eons. He didn't waste fuckin time. ^^^ALL THAT is HOT as HELL.  My cunt drips just thinking/typing those words and acknowledging those truths.  Thoughtful action toward opportunity and vision seems to be sadly lacking in the world these days. He ordered a good ole fashioned dick worshipping and informed my other holes they had the night off.  I eagerly and gratefully did my very best to comply.   He took from and demanded of me every fuckin thing I craved and then some.  I didn't even have to ask for Round 2.  He simply stated that's what we was doing.  Honestly, I’m…shell-shocked.  First time in the 13+ years of doing WIITWD that any man has granted my int

The Need to Worship

Most days I handle business like a champ and get done what needs to get done if not more.  Then there are other days.  Today is/was one of those days.  The ONLY thing that consumes my mind is having THAT dick in my mouth.  Not for just a few minutes.  Naaaa...I want His dick in my mouth for fucking hours. I. Fucking. Crave... The sight of Him hard and ready, silently demanding I get to work like a good whore. That first sexy earthy taste of Him on my greedy tongue. The feel of that baby soft skin stretched tight over blood-flooded dick as it slides through my hungry lips. The intoxicating scent of Him as my nose presses up against His base while I try to breathe with the head of His dick jammed down my throat.  The sound...oh fuck yessss...those sloppy, messy, nasty sounds of suction and saliva when I release His head, the slurps of the excess spit drenching His meat, of gags and coughs after He grabs a fist of my hair and holds himself against the back of my throat for way longer than

Writer's Tears & a Bronx Fire Escape

2am.  Top space has me tightly in its fist.  Sisterhood bonded.  Energy shared.  Knowledge imparted.  Friendship built.  The truths we reveal sippin Writer's Tears in the cool breeze on a Bronx fire escape and over platefuls of piping hot empanadas leave us nowhere to hide. Leather Living explained...the sex...the pain.  A different level of it all.  Messy.  Hot and sweaty.  Piss.  Even shit.  Real.  Raw passion ripped from flesh and spirit without filter.  Tears licked.  We leatherfolk wallow in the grit and purity of our religion because there...we find our truest selves. The floor...fuck yes that mother fuckin floor.  Where there is no pride or ego.  Where we let go.  Where we are stripped bare of everything... Except our fucking surrender.  To the Universe.  To one another.  To ourselves.  To the One who in that moment holds our pain, our minds, our hearts, our bodies, our very fucking souls. The floor is where serenity and peace finally find us. Amazing fucking night.   ~Domin

In the Deep

3am writing...forgive any needed edits.  The call outweighed basic protocols.   "Transformation is not accomplished by tentatively wading at the edge." ~Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass That quote slammed into me and nearly brought me to tears with its validation 36 hours ago.  I couldn't read another word.  I slipped the marker in the crease of the pages, gently placed the book on the worn formica tabletop with trembling fingers, and leaned back against the booth's vinyl.  Epiphanies at ancient NYC diners are a long standing city tradition that I haven't been blessed with nearly enough.   I sucked down some water, sighed in silence, and let a very familiar truth sink back into my bones.   Discomfort is a natural and normal part of the transformation process.  For someone used to pushing herself forward into the unknown in search of growth and evolution without much a fuckin safety net, I don't know how I'd forgotten about the danger and risk that

Instincts of a Lioness

As night creeps in, I can sense the world crawling toward me to rupture the only reality I want to embrace.  Let the fucking world burn.  I have no use for it anymore.  Don't tell a Lioness to be reasonable.  My only reason is instinct.  I know where I belong now.    My heart races with memories of Him, and I growl softly.  In need?  In lust?  In understanding?  In truth.  This cannot be undone.  All of me is present.  Fully.  Tomorrow is irrelevant.  So are the damn details.  Only now.  This moment. This...beginning.  Matters.  I regret nothing, and I have no time or patience or desire to reassure anyone or anything.  Even myself.  Instinct calls. I stroked and clawed at His beautiful frame for hours.  I drank in His scent.  I lapped, sucked, and swallowed His taste.  Shivers flutter down my spine as I relive His fierce control and such total consumption that I could barely stand, and the tenderness of my body reminds me in no uncertain terms that my journey has altered irrevocabl

Adventures in Online Dating | Post #1: The Art of Peopling

After spending years (pandemic) getting seriously reacquainted with my Introvert and enabling my Service Whore to over-extend herself beyond fucking reason, I'm trying to reconnect to the mysterious art of peopling.   I had no choice but to face up to the reality that my peopling skills are rusty as fuck when at SPLF I was stunned into confused silence from a basic personal question during a first in-person intro.  If they had asked about any number of service projects or classes, I could have easily rattled off dialog.  But a simple, polite "You fascinate me.  Tell me about yourself," slammed my thought processes from Fourth into Reverse, grinding gears and causing significant damage to my mental transmission.  Later reflection...I need to practice more personal engagements. It's time to transition fully outta Pandemic Mode and feed other pieces of me besides my Introvert and Service Whore.  Note:  Introvert resents and rebels against this effort with almost every st