Fire & Ice

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

~sigh~  It's time I just came out with it.  I can't find my s-side.  Bitch is gone.  Poof.  Greatest magic trick I've come up with in years.  Too bad it wasn't intentional. I literally can't even imagine being submissive.  Memories of kneeling feel like I'm watching a kinky home movie of someone else in my head.  Yes...I'm THAT detached.  I can't hear her.  I can't touch her.  She is bound and gagged somewhere, and I have no idea where. If I'm honest, I'm also too busy to search. Oh...I look around now and then, but I don't change my course of direction.  My mind is focused solely on the tasks at hand, and DAMN have I thrown a heap of tasks into my mix.   #UnownedCopingStrategy  I'm all about progress - FORWARD momentum toward my goals. I can't even feel sad that she's MIA.  All she would do is slow me down with her...ache.  There's no one to Dominate her, so what good would her appearance be?  None.  None.  Negati

I posted a list of  my poly questions  back in January, and since then I've been on a quest to determine my answers.  My ears are always on alert for conversation that may shed light for me.  Occasionally, I get lucky. Last week, I found myself in a great discussion with an amazing group of poly folks regarding the challenges of managing vanilla lives as well as defining goals of poly dynamics.  However, I did NOT do a fantastic job of articulating my questions about the goals.  Since then I've tried to better navigate through the ball of yarn in my head to find the right strings to pull. My original goal-centric questions... Do poly relationship goals differ than monogamous ones?  How far can a relationship progress when there isn't "traditional" milestones (AKA The Relationship Escalator: a drawer, the key swap, living together, engagement, marriage, buy a house, etc.) available due to practical poly situations (marriage/kids/vanilla life/legal boundaries)

I love open and honest. I hate when poly is only a game designed to keep control of Him. I love to add to an existing equation and help build a healthy ecosystem of love and support. I hate when I'm treated as a temporary inconvenience that must be slowly manipulated out of the picture from the behind His back. I love the shared responsibility of loving someone because I understand I can't be everything. I hate when my service to the greater equation is dismissed, ignored as irrelevant, or even resented. I love to witness the broader beauty of others' love. I hate when all I'm granted are the leftover scraps of His life. I love to learn and be inspired by the relationships of others. I hate when my dynamic is deemed as meaningless and my role easily replaceable with someone else. I love the belief that more love is beautiful and welcome. I hate when instead of active feeding of our relationship others rely on my loyalty to hold me. I absolutely love to

I am where I am for reasons that are not public fodder.  Why I'm here isn't the point. Where I am is. For a while now, I haven't been able to find peace with my submission or harmony with my sacred .  Every day I fight to turn away from frustration, anger, and bitterness.  I fight every day, hour, moment to reach for positive. It's a fucking struggle. I distrust my submission and service to take me anywhere good. I doubt the reality of Dominance that's more than a temporary surface level masquerade. I wonder if I will ever again find grace . With the momentary exceptions of pure compersion when I happen to witness the divinity in others' authority exchange dynamics...confusion, pain, and emptiness have been my only companions as I try to regain my balance and figure out how the fuck to move forward in my journey. I recognize that I'm in a state of recovery, but that awareness does not dull the fucking ache.  This isn't anything special.  I&

Valentine's Day. ~eye roll~ I've yet to spend one in any kind of romantic bliss let alone some hot, sexual, decadent bliss. Today is no different. My lips won't be taken by a Man who Owns my soul. My ears won't hear "I fucking love you, you bitch," whispered in breathless need. My neck won't be feast on by a lustful Beast. My breasts won't be molded with fierce greedy Hands. My nipples won't beg a hungry lover to be sucked My back won't arch closer to Him in ecstasy as His nails drag frantically down my spine. My ass won't be bruised from His demanding attention. My hands won't clutch His as He drives my passion toward our precipice. My legs won't spread to welcome His weight and heat. My pussy won't weep for His fullness to drive into it. My mouth won't wrap around His pulsing dick, pleading for mercy as I suck His soul. That is simply not my fate, and I've loooooong ago accepted this fact. And it&

Gratitude...for my slivers of service to the community to be welcomed, accepted, and even celebrated. Gratitude...for those who believe(d) in me - whose voices encourage(d) and push(ed) me to reach further rather than take away from me in order to make themselves feel like more. Gratitude...for those who help contribute in more than casual empty words but in meaningful, authentic, deep words and deeds - to my growth, my ideas, and my passions. It is rare that our journeys taken in isolation.  For those who have joined me for a step, a season, or a reason on my path, I am humbled and honored by your presence. ~DominaKat

I've been pulling together updates for my profile over the last week or two to better reflect my priorities, goals, and desires with the new year.  A great process that allowed me to reassess the many pieces of me.  Yet, I kept bumping up against what will be one of my greatest challenges this year. While all my lovely thoughts regarding submission are a very accurate reflection of my personal beliefs and styles, the truth is that my /s/property/submissive headspace is out of breath and needs to regroup.  I need time...time to resolve the conflict in my mind between the M/s ideals I believe in and the often disappointing reality of practice I've faced.  Despite being a realistic idealist, 2018 left my submission a bit bruised. No...it's more than that. While I find blessed peace in M/s centric environments ( my church ), I'm currently distrustful of my own personal submission.  Not good.  Not good at all.  I admire others' serenity and joy in service.  I rem

I guess it was inevitable.  On average I RSVP to a dozen local events every month.  Most of them are groups/events I've already attended in the past two years, but every now and then I try to check out something new.  In January, I RSVP to a more upscale social that I'd heard about a few different times. The day of the event I was still debating.  Weather, tiredness, work deadlines...I was wavering on whether or not to take the side trip downtown that evening.  Checking my Fet inbox cinched my decision...no go. I had two unsolicited emails from 30-ish males seeking someone to hold their hand.  One asked me to meet for drinks with him (REMINDER...a total stranger, not even a profile pic) prior and then go to the event with him.  The other spammy email from an essentially blank profile who also stated no seemingly personal interest in me but wanted to connect at the event. The distaste in my mouth was immediate and strong.  I clicked "Not Going" in relief and anno

Several times the last week I ran into this topic, and it stayed at the top of my mind all last weekend as I struggled to wrap my arms around my next steps forward in my growth and evolution. The "lifestyle."  This thing that I do.  This idea, activities, community that I probably give half of my free time to isn't a simply a little hobby for me.  Or a frivolous pastime. This is... My church. My religion. My chosen set of ideals and frameworks that resonate at the base of my soul where I begin. So long ago as a young teenager, the concepts of Dominance and submission, of service, obedience, of passion and intensity beyond orgasm...they were all just...there.  It wasn't like I had a D/s relationship model I looked up to or a culture norm of male Dominance ingrained into me.  Power/Authority exchange - even with my many feminist standards - was simply the prism through which I viewed life and relationships.  I didn't have words or structures or tangible con

I caught a post a few months ago that brought up Unconditional Love as it relates to various kinky dynamics.  It was almost a side note to writer's bigger relationship challenge, but since reading the piece, I've gone back again again in my mind to the idea of Unconditional Love.  What keeps nagging at me is the part everyone skipped over in their haste to debate if that kind of love even existed. Yes, I believe some people do experience Unconditional Love toward their partner.  For better or worse, I've been one of them a time or two.  Not everyone feels love that way, and that's okay.  Love comes in many different forms, and while Unconditional Love is a beautiful thing, it can be exhausting and heartbreaking as well. However, there's an important second part to Unconditional Love that is often left unsaid, gone unseen, or flat out ignored. Unconditional Love does NOT equal Unconditional Relationship. Those are two extremely different things, and I'd a

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Dear 2019 ~ I just said goodbye to your sibling 2018.  She was pretty damn good to me even though she threw a number of challenges my way that I overcame or at the very least survived with only a few scrapes.  I was blessed with many mind-blowing sexy adventures that confirmed much I'd suspected.  She also taught me patience and gave me the opportunity to look inside myself for peace and inspiration.  I was blessed in many, many ways.  However, it wasn't enough.  I'm greedy like that. With much love and affection, I say this.  I'm gonna kick your ass, 2019.  A year from now, I want you to look at me and say, "Bitch, you wore me the fuck out, but damn...we had a helluva good time!"  I'm gonna wring every ounce of opportunity and positive energy I can get from you.  I plan to have laugh lines, sore abs, and maybe even some bruises from taking in so much sheer joy, passion, and adventure.  You already see the plans tumbling around in my head so don't

Days left.  Like most, I'm reflecting on My Journey Through the Dark this year and setting my sights on goals for next.  2018 had its challenges, but it was good to me in many, many ways even if it didn't go quite the way I'd hoped. I'm most grateful for the many fantastic relationships that have blossomed in my life - truly my greatest blessing this year.  Too many to people to name and that's not what this post is about, but they know who they are.  Each one has enhanced my perspective on my various roles and fed my soul.  Their positive energy, authentic feedback, and avid openness to discussions and debates have given me much to consider.  I appreciate their willingness to both challenge and inspire me and look forward to much more ahead! I also had the opportunity to contribute in several small ways to my local community, a theme I hope to continue and expand upon in the future.  I was hesitant.  So many others know so much more than I do, but I'm gain

In a world consumed by instant gratification, which is the new norm...no...the new God, sadly concepts such as Honor have become vague relics of the past, echoed only by ghosts and eulogies of heroes.  Maybe this is where the hopeless romantic in me sticks out like a prickly cactus in a deep bed of used instant scratch off tickets, but Honor is still very much a part of my DNA. I don't brag or blow smoke up anyone's ass.  Why?  They'd find out soon enough that I was full of shit.  How embarrassing would that be???  Plus I've never been able to find logic in lies and pompous nonsense.  The first time MasterKwesi met one of my friends, he shook her hand and said, "Wow...she's amazing.  She's one of the few people that says she's about x and then actually is x."  I was a bit stunned for a moment that he was impressed by just basic honesty, but my Honorable genes run deeper. I do my best to Honor the agreements I make - even if I've made a mi

I can't tell you how many posts have been in my feed or discussions have happened around me about metamours the last week.  Maybe it's time I laid out my own thoughts... Dear Men~ Hi, before we begin, let’s have a quick, very frank conversation. Whether you just want to be friends or you’re interested in casual play or if you’re hoping for something serious and long term with me, look around you and be very very honest with yourself about your situation. If your woman/women is/are insecure in ANY way, please keep it moving. I am 46 years old, and I have had my FILL of insecure women.  Not once in my life have I ever had a positive experience with any of my metamours or even the wife/lover/girlfriend of other males I've been friends with or connected to at one point or another.  Seriously. I’m not joking.  Look behind me…in the shadows…there…there…there, back there. Yeah…crazy, isn’t it? There’s literally probably a good dozen angry, bitter, frumpy, grouchy wart

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

Tumble.  Tumble.  Those thoughts.  On top and over one another.  Chaos and sanity.  Disconnected yet intertwined.  I find I have no desire to explain any of it - merely a need to acknowledge their presence and let them go. # # # # # In my long ago younger days of trial and error after a brutal breakup, I had an acquaintance - a booty call - a fine-ass guy, reasonably intelligent, no drama, good in bed.  Maybe not the most satisfying encounter(s) of my life by any means but easy and simple.  Now and then, we'd run into each other and take the edge off the harsh realities of the world for a few hours without the complication of all that a relationship entails.  There was no follow up phone calls.  No interference with his other relationships.  No hard feelings about time, distance, or other responsibilities.  He knew and respected all the unwritten booty call rules.   Until one night, he didn't.   "I keep thinking...maybe...you know...we could be more."  

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 nudg

To feel vulnerable under the Weight of His Strength. To give freely when He Takes. To fight by His Side. To serve His Demands. Submission... To surrender beneath the Comfort of Competent Authority. To rely on Consistency and trust in Follow Through. To ache for His Approval. To obey His Instructions. Submission... To be wanted at His Feet. To bask in His Attention. To be used on my knees as He Sates His Pleasure. To anticipate and fulfill His Needs. Submission... To bloom and grow under His Nurturing. To work toward His goals. To follow His Direction. To believe in His Leadership. Submission... There is nothing in the world that makes more sense or is more beautiful to me than M/s.  To simply witness it warms my soul and fends off the cold chill of winter. ~DominaKat