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Showing posts with the label Sexuality

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

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

Kink/BDSM/Leather Books & Resources

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The Comet of Lamar & Me

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The post triggered a shock of sadness and flood of beautiful fond memories.  Maybe I should have shrugged off the news.  It had all been so long ago, but the long-buried visions continued to chase me.  I soon gave up any semblance of trying to be in the present and sank into the need to rewind my mental photo album and the book of my life to lose myself in days past but never forgotten. We first crossed paths during a mutual friend's misadventures on a night much like tonight.  The frantic specks of snow danced in front of the car's headlights as the cold quickly seeped into our bones.  We were bundled up and stuffed into my little two-door Capri to spend miles searching in vain for the friend's somewhat stolen car.  He and I turned out to be the calm, strategic ones in the midst of minor chaos.  Nothing is sexier than a man in control of himself, handling a situation.  I was intrigued and so was my pussy.  We were young.  I was back in my hometown looking for direction aft

2020 Reading List v1

A lioness' hunger takes many forms.  Her mind needs to be fed often, well, and deeply.  A sated intellect is key to her tranquility and satisfaction.  ( Also s ee Bitch, Can You Just Get in a Damn Box?!? ) Suggestions/recommendations always appreciated.  Of course NYC's D/s Book Club will no doubt help feed my Lioness. ~DominaKat ~~~Finish the Following~~~ Master/slave Mastery - Update Handbook of Concepts, Approaches, and Practices by Robert J. Rubel Ph. D. Sacred Power: Holy Surrender Edited by Raven Kaldera Dear Raven and Joshua: Questions and Answers  by Raven Kaldera and Joshua Tenpenny Ties That Bind by Guy Baldwin M.S. The New Topping Book by Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy ~~~New~~~ Real Service by Raven Kaldara & Joshua Tenpenny Warrior Goddess Training by Heatherash Amara The New Bottoming Book  by Dossie Easton and Janet W. Hardy Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison Tears We Cannot Stop  by Michael Eric Dyson Slaughterhouse-Five by Kurt Vo

Is Control the Bane of Pleasure and Authenticity?

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Owner Privileges

We have a lot of labels for those we engage with:  play partner, lover, Top, bottom, baby girl, Daddy, brother, sister, toy, Dom, sub....  Our relationships are sometimes complicated, often nuanced, but almost always meaningful.  For me there is no greater relationship/title than Owner. Even though I am unOwned and struggling right now in my peace with and trust in my submission, I can't deny M/s is - will always be -  my sacred .  The Owner's throne may be currently empty, but I still honor that role that a Man may eventually take in my life. Over time and experience, I've come to understand how rare it is to find someone willing and ABLE to take on the responsibilities of my Ownership.  Yes, there are a myriad of delightful sexy benefits He will have the right to indulge in at will, and many find those possibilities appealing.  However, what differentiates an Owner from a play partner, lover, Dominant is His desire and follow through to be an active leader in my life.

Bitch, Can You Just Get in a Damn Box?!?

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Fuck the fuck out of me...why can't anything ever be simple with me?  ~sigh~  A few weeks ago, I traumatized myself by reading a few fascinating blog posts on various types of sexuality.  I've been shocked to discover over the last month or so that despite absolutely LOVING sex, on some level I fall on the asexual scale!  Wow.  No...really...WOW! Apparently I'm a sapiosexual -leaning demisexual reciprosexual who becomes hypersexual .  ~sigh~  It seems I can't just get in a single simple box that folks can easily identify with.  Nope...I'm more like a damn reverse matryoshka doll where each entry point leads to the possibility of something much, much greater.  SMH. 1. Sapiosexual Neurosexual  - Getting my attention is not tied to being a card carrying Mensa membership.  I could care less if you were the smartest guy in the room.  I'm not an intellectual snob.  For me, it's more how you think, what you think, the depth of that thinking, and putting

Zero Response Time

While I may seem calm, note the hint of a mysterious smile as I make my way Uptown. My pussy’s wet. The hot slick kind of wet that begs to be fucked. Hard. Mercilessly. ~sweet sigh~ It didn’t matter how well behaved we were...that things never got hot and heavy. My body responds to Him. If He'd bent me over the hood of the car and shoved my dress around my waist, He could have sunk nuts-deep in my hungry cunt with a single easy stroke. He would have found Heaven. That’s what happens to me around Him despite any logic or reason. He wakes the whore in me like no other. The frightening thing is...We've barely scratched the surface of us. A thousand opportunities are within our grasp if we only could reach together and indulge. So many opportunities left to be expose and explore. Damn...somehow, I managed to get even wetter. At least I'm home now and can spread my legs like a proper nasty bitch.  ~sigh~ ~DominaKat

My Kinky Inequality

There is no equality in my kink. Read that again. Notice the key words "MY kink." I'm not talking about my expectations for the community as a whole.  I'm not talking about the big ol' world of Fet.  I'm not talking about any munches, classes, play spaces, or events.  I'm talking about MY own personal kinky shit here. In my corner of the sandbox aka my profile/my sex life/my relationships I get to set MY own damn boundaries without apology, and my consensual kink is very much all about some unequality.  Don't look for fucking politically correctness here.  It doesn't exist. I crave Male Dominance - a male Owner who enjoys the fuck out of Controlling me, Conquering me, making me his nasty whore.  How un-fucking-feminist of me. I seek acts of Male violence on my Female flesh and mindfucks that would cause a nun to swoon.  Not something vanilla #MeToo would embrace. I get hot and horny when my Male Owner objectifies me, uses me, degrades

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