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Showing posts with the label Thoughts & Tidbits

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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Suspended

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In a spacious room outside of Youngstown, exhausted and momentarily paused on my way to to my hometown for the holidays, I find myself suspended between multiple worlds, multiple lives, multiple realities.  A strange yet insightful place.   I haven't been alone in a hotel room since returning to "unowned" status.  The couple of times I've had a room were stuffed with people and schedules and events.  Whether it's the exhaustion dogging my body and mind or the scent of the room or the feel of the sheets against my naked flesh, I don't know, but my whore...she stirs.  I ache for the warmth of skin against my skin, the weight of a Man pushing me into the mattress, the all-consuming burn of passion and need and fire and darkness.  ~sigh~  Being alone is nothing new to me.  It's my security blanket.  I can exist simply in the moment without anyone else's roles, expectations, needs, or wants influencing my course.  I can be in my truth whatever that
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Why I Love the Lifestyle

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Before We Die...

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Spending some time again with Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah this evening.  Somehow he always seems to help me find my words.  He teases them from my soul like he does the haunting notes from his trumpet.  Long.  Drawn out.  Strung together to tell his truth.  Maybe today, I'll find mine. A milestone.  One few can understand the personal and emotional significance of.  The summit of Everest after years of climbing in treacherous, punishing conditions.  A triumph over evil.  A redemption after hell.  It was beautiful and moved me deeply.  A reality I once never dreamed could come to pass. An anniversary.  Five years in NYC.  Where I've grown in ways unimagined.  The dichotomy of the demands and opportunities.  Of harsh practicalities and limitless awe.  My gypsy wanderer dances under the shadows of steel and glass through the concrete jungle.  More pieces of myself unwrapped and stacked on a foundation made stronger. The blessings shared in service to a community.  To give
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#NoDickShaming

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Calm the Lioness

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I didn't kink last night.  Despite two of my favorite presenters and a topic I'm still curious to explore, I looked at the NYC skyline, the cramped streets, and the endless rain, and I chose the uptown track to carry my home. I didn't kink tonight.  Too leary of wacky icky energy of strange ones, couples with their own focused agenda, and Times Square on a hot sticky night, I avoided another preferred event.  I just didn't have it in me to sift through chaos to find positive crumbs, so I met a friend and talked 1:1 kink for two hours. My choices weren't born of a need to preserve my strength.  I'm almost vibrating with the need to move, an echo of my pacing lioness. My choices were about a need to shield myself from unnecessary aggravation, and if you've never hit Times Square between 5 and 6 pm or spent a rainy evening on New York City streets, at best it can be one hassle after another as everyone fights to avoid the misery of a wet, humid, icky rush
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When a Sleeping Lioness is Poked

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It's been an odd few weeks...outing myself to a distance acquaintance against my better judgement, my slave self making a spontaneous appearance in an unhealthy situation, a heartbreaking confession, a confrontation with a bully who escalated dumb shit to put his hands on me and ended up on the floor for it, a non-consenting witness to group therapy.  I've racked up a fair share of negative encounters in a short amount of time.  None of them earth shattering or world-changing by any means.  I'm just not at my best.  All of it has left my energy in a funk that I'm not sure how to dissipate. My Lioness is wide awake after having been in a coma for much of the last year, and it wasn't passion and sexiness that woke her.  She definitely rolled off the wrong side of the bed from all the pokes and prods.  She's not angry, but she is annoyed and watchful.  Her claws are unsheathed.  She paces. I know I am well equipped to handle almost anything that comes my way.  
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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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A Bit of Truth Spillage

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I needed the quiet tonight.  Just jazz and words to keep me company and help me spill my truth.  Too many thoughts have built up in my mind, jamming the flow of serenity.  Somehow Christian Scott aTunde Adjuah always nudges open my flood gates. Play... dozens of lessons.  Fascinating puzzle pieces. A warning not to play...am I truly so different?  Is it the demisexual-ness that dictates my disconnectedness?  Or a lifetime of learned compartmentalization?  Is my control a valued trait?  Or is my elusive nature what allows me to move so fluidly between dimensions. Service...have I been mistaken all along?  Have I finally found the safest, most rewarding form of servitude?  Maybe a Man will never again be blessed with what I can give.  If that's true...then what of the whore? Submissive vs slave...the choice versus an alignment of wills.  Yes...gold flecks reflect the sun's litmus test of truth.  A stone melds into my foundation. Sisterhood... Such unknown territory for
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The Blessing of Folsom

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Two years ago, I wandered into my first Folsom Street East with no idea what to expect.  I'd heard rave reviews of the street festival at some of my first few TES classes, so on a hot, humid, early summer day I found myself on a single closed off block in NYC surrounded by much phenomenal pride and an outstanding display of stunning drag queens, hunky gay men in next to nothing, and a more back hair than I ever wanted to see.  LOL  (Keeping it real real here folks!) I walked by vendors and organizations and food carts, young people and old, the dressed and nearly undressed, men, women, and gender fluid, leather and uniquely their own, and then took my very overheated (suffered heat exhaustion a few weeks before) ass home, grateful to have gone and to have felt the beautiful energy.  However, other than awareness I remained relatively unchanged by the event.  I had felt the joy and love around me, but being still new to the local kink scene and a straight, white, female...well m
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Where is Your Energy Source? | Sado-centric, Maso-centric, Partner-centric, Self-Centric

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A couple years ago I attended an absolutely great class, Masco-curious?  It was my third local kink event in the city, and it added MUCH to my personal thought arsenal on S&M.  This small, casual, humble class led by two very different masochists opened about a half dozen doorways for me and was instrumental in putting me on the path that has led to my today.  (I seriously can't thank them enough!)  Despite doing lifestyle shit and being on Fet for the previous seven years, my "education" had truly been limited, based primarily on whatever my partners during that time were comfortable with or various anecdotal writings rather than a study of the craft. ~~~ IMPORTANT SIDEBAR ~~~ Yes!  I said CRAFT!  What we do is a CRAFT, and in order to MASTER the CRAFT of S&M you need to study, study, practice, practice, and do more of both almost infinitely!  No...ya don't get good at this shit by buying equipment at the mainstream "spice up your sex life" store
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To Play with My Pain

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My Masochist v3.1 At last month's S&M Discussion Group, we discussed the varying goals of play.[https://fetlife.com/users/9560269/posts/5635688]. Common Goals for BOTH S- and M-types: Introduction/Exploratory | to introduce a new type of play/instrument Pleasure | to experience some form of pleasure (including sensual/erotic) Escape | to forget the world and concentrate only on the moment Service | to provide pleasure/service to others (emphasis is on the partner’s experience) Maintenance | to maintain balance, emotional/mental space, practice D/s Reinforcement | to reinforce D/s roles and dynamics Feed the Monster | to provide yourself opportunity to be yourself/let your monster play Catharsis | to release emotional/mental/physical negative energy Ordeal | to deliver/endure/conquer a trial Competitive/Primal | to combat as a fundamental part of play often in primal personas. Punishment/Discipline | to give/receive corrective action for a misdeed by the
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My Terrible Friendship

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I am a terrible friend. I am. At least by the status quo norms that social media has insidiously enabled society to embrace the last decade or so with their much sought after and longed for "likes" and "loves."  Though I can't blame it entirely on social media.  After all, look at cheeto-man.  He was an assholian narrcisist well before the rise of Facebook, Twitter and their enablement of surface-level one-sided mass approval, and he'd spent a lifetime surrounding himself with people who would go his way.  Unfortunately for my friends, I'm not a yes-man or more accurately a "yes-woman" as my pussy wielding self identifies as. That makes friendship with me sometimes difficult and complicated and even ego bruising. I'm not the cheerleader to rah-rah your anger blindly to "have your back."  You won't hear me blithely shout out a "Oh yeah girl!  Fuck him."  I need to see clearly where he wronged you before I get
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POLY | Is Poly's Growing Popularity a Product of Women's Equality?

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Gotta love NYC Munches.  The conversation is damn near ALWAYS intriguing.  Rarely does it dwelling in the arena of mundate chit chat.  A few of us were discussing the idea that poly will become the next groundbreaking cultural norm now that LGBTQ has made so much progress.   By no means am I implying that the fight for LGBTQ rights has been fully won.  However, for a majority of the Millennial and Gen Z generation non-hetero sexuality is way more acceptable than it was when I was in my twenties. For these younger generations who are putting off traditional family structures of marriage and children, we were thinking that they may be the ones to usher in more cultural acceptance of poly dynamics.  With that and some of the discussion points our group had mentioned about the unspoken historical acceptance of non-monogamy, especially for men, I began to wonder how much of a relationship exists between cultural acceptance and practice of poly relationships and women's growing equali
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Poly: A Relationship in a Box?

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This is a follow up to my previous post:   The Debate of Poly Goals . *** Disclaimers and Clarifications Up Front *** No, I don't at ALL believe poly is done one way.  Nothing in the realm of kinky relationships is ever done in one uniform way.  I also understand that not every poly situation has a hierarchy, but many do, especially in my peer group.  It's my reality, and I need to find the best strategies for me.  (There's the door if that doesn't sit well with you.)  I sincerely seek others' examples and insights.   With knowledge and understanding, I hope to make informed decisions/choices.  I often feel as if I'm lacking the right words to communicate well or that I have a practical vision on what is possible or not possible.  With continued conversations I hope to change that.  Now...on with the mayhem and mischief.  ") Based on various sessions of recent feedback, I continue to get the distinct impression that in  GENERAL  non-nesting poly-dynami
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