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Reverence of The Marks & Symbols of Ownership

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I spoke of Faith. Now…I’ll kneel to Reverence. Our first date. I stood calmly in His bedroom. Still. Waiting. A lioness’ instinctive understanding short-circuited my usual primal sexual aggression. I knew this man before I knew Him. Though desire and need raged through my veins, my lioness lowered her head in acquiescence to a Power she had known before time began and been searching for this entire lifetime. I waited. Utterly defenseless. To see how He would move. To see what He would want of me. To see which direction He would Lead us. He shifted behind me in the dim light. His first touch. A bold unmistakable Claim. With a deliberate slowness that seemed to last eternity, His fingers dug into my biceps as His teeth sank into my tender flesh where neck meets shoulder. My body gave into His strength. My mind let go of logic. My heart and soul gratefully surrendered to His Demand. I will always feel the echoes of the Marks He gave me in that moment. That was only the beginning. With ...
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Lioness Shit | Post #2

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She really REALLY don’t give a fuck about anything but now.  Fuck yesterday.  Fuck tomorrow.  What are we doing NOW?  She's usually not impressed with my ass unless I'm with Him. She doesn't give a fuck about words either.  Written or spoken—blah... blah... blah fuckity blah.  Actions, scents, tastes, sounds, textures, touch, feelings, energy...that's the shit that registers.   She’s dismissive of most of humanity, and the exact opposite when it comes to Him.  Everything to do with Him captivates her. She holds respect for a chosen few whose energy, experience, and actions meet her standards.  Most of the world falls in the category of prey that she has no appetite to conquer.  Meh.   I cannot reason with her.  At ALL.  I can only cage her and wait her out.   Be Warned | She’ll rise pissed the fuck off when fun pain turns on a dime to seriously sucky pain.  I cannot be held responsible next time....
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Lioness Shit | Post #1

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Occasionally I can escape and set her free. ~sigh~ Earth under my feet. Trees whisper to the world. Plants reach for their destiny. Sun kisses. Sky calls and clouds stretch. Fresh air fuels. Waves lick at my feet. An ocean breeze in my hair. Sand slips between my toes. A storm thunders through my bones. The rain cleanses. Lightning unleashes its violence. The night holds court. The stars dance. And the moon... Embraces my soul. ~purrrrr~ All soothe her deeply. There… My senses are fed on the richness, depth, and balance of nature. There… I find healing and pure joy in the silence of being. There… I don’t need to pretend I’m civilized. There… My soul rests in the simplicity and spiritual of the untamed. ~DominaKat
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When There's No Responsible Personality Left to Supervise

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

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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...
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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 intens...
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Laundry Service Revelations

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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, o...
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The Primal Bitch None of You Warned Me About

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*** 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 ...
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