Fire & Ice

I needed this... Midori's Create Amazing Scenes: Get into their Heads Needed. Needed.  NEEDED. I learned much, but I was fucking reminded more. I. Need. the fucking CONVERSATION. Impossibly somehow I'd lost that.  I'd lost the dialog.  The banter.  The teasing.  The flirting.  The mental exploration of possibilities.  The opening of the door to the mindfuck. All of it.  Was just. Gone.  ~sigh~  I'd lost all the exquisite communication beforehand that lays the groundwork for all the magic that we do with each other. It isn't any single person's fault or influence.  Over the last seven years...between busy schedules, misinterpretation of others' lines, miscommunications, others' waning efforts and crumbling mirages, my struggle to find others truly willing to lead...Between all of that I've simply continued to get quieter and quieter and quieter.  Why waste time talking if no one is actually listening?  If no one truly intends to try a

Tell me...What is your relationship with Pain today? Is it a comforting friend? A brutal foe to endure or conquer? An entertaining date who provides temporary distraction? The thrilling dance partner? A longed for lover that seduces you to submit your dark hedonistic desires? Or the monster to torment and devour your willing soul? A palm’s sharp blow. The rhythmic licks of the floggers' fall.  A paddle’s thunderous smack. The snap and slap of a belt’s lash. A crop’s brutal bite.  The vicious strike of a cane. A whip’s hot kiss. Their impact varies but can all be manipulated with the mindfuck. The best Sadists pluck those mental and emotional strings to accompany pain’s delicious melody and orchestrate a symphony. When the last note rings in the air how will you want to feel? Soothed or victorious? Relaxed or exhilarated? Post orgasmic, sated, and high from sexual bliss? Or an exhausted sobbing heap on the floor broken and bruised? Tell me.

My flesh reflects my soul’s original flame. A sacred Goddess of intimate lustful beginnings.  My sexuality drips. From the mounds of my lush breasts. Across the valley of my waist and round curve of my hip. Down the globes of my plump pale ass.  Drip.        Drip.               Drip. I am.  The thousand sins You desire. The apple’s warm sweet nectar. Born in the wickedness of my mind. Falls from my lips and clings with longing to beaded red nipples.  Only the worthy lap at the fountain of my deviant desires. Drip.        Drip.               Drip.  I am. More than can be conquered. The whispered disapproval of old hags and broken balls. Amuses my shredded morality. I stand tall, proud on the crumbled ruins of their bitterness. And watch as they choke and drown under my sensual storm. Drip.        Drip.               Drip.  I am. A force of nature they will never possess nor control.  Unable to fathom the sweet surre

There’s much talk about being a sub, being a slave, property, pet or being a Dom, being a Master, Owner, etc. We have classes, discussions, writings, debates about how to be the most fantastical at whatever role you identify as yours. I’m not hating. I absolutely participate in and enjoy and learn from all of the conversations too. There's also the Great Debate.  Who truly has the control? The Dom! No! The sub. And then there's the whole...submission is the ultimate gift. SMH. The answer to the Great Debate is both equally hold control. Anyone that argues differently is a damn fool.  A Dom with no sub has no one but HimHerSelf to control.  Sub-Has-Control-ers...try submitting when there's no Dominance. I've tried it...trust me when I tell you that's a lot of things, but it ain't D/s and it ain't holding control. When you're throwing your submission at a brick wall, your submission damn sure ain't some grand omnipotent gift either. Tha

A buildup of desire. A flood of energy with nowhere to go. Emotions that batter and bruise. Though I try to dissipate the chaos. I am exhausted in the continued denial of my need. And the storm rages below my surface for release. Dark thunder pounds through my mind in search of resting place for my submission. Vicious lighting crawls through my veins seeking pain and punishment. An agony of insatiable lust licks and torments my every nerve. FUCK...Unleash the storm in me! I want nothing gentle or kind. The full blunt force of primal hunger and Dominance. Is the only fucking cure for my twisted sinful lusts. Show me that dark merciless beast in Your soul. Take from me all that You wish. With a cruelty born of pure greed and demand. My soul begs... For pain and suffering that pushes reality to the far reaches. To be used with brutal Sadistic intent until I'm a crumpled broken mess at His feet. I am desperate for His fury and passion. My lioness roars to be

Now that my submissive has finally found freedom with a Lion who understands how hard I need to run and who is brave enough to traverse the dark paths I've longed to explore, I've discovered My Lil Sadistic Monster hidden in the deepest dark shadows of my soul. With my Owner's and several close friends' encouragement, I get closer and closer to this Wild Thing. I watch My Lil Monster.  I feed Her little bites when I go to meet ups/munches, classes, and the occasional party. I can soooo feel when my Sadist perks up at a juicy morsel. ~GROWL~ While I’m not quite ready to act on anything - or maybe I should say anyONE - I recognize that that time is rapidly approaching.  This post has been months in the making, as I've gotten to know at least My Lil Monster's initial basic rules, needs, desires, and limits. First and FOREMOST it needs to be clear.   No one HAS to play with My Sadistic Bitch.   Really.  I am a FIRM believer in respecting others’ needs and l

In 2017, I am exquisitely blessed to have found community.  My first dip in the local pool was back in the Spring at an NYC MAsT meeting.  Within 30 minutes of sitting down and simply listening to the discussion, the tension I'd been feeling for weeks, months, hell...years started to unwrap it's vicious grip on my soul.  I was finally someplace where those around me - despite differences in age, gender, race, ethnicity, sexual orientation, kink interests, background - didn't simply just accept me...they understood. They understood. They. Understood . I've been very lucky and even luckier this year.  Those closest to me accept me for who I am.  I'm not blatant, but I don't have to hide the truth of me completely.  It's never really quite been hidden anyway.  However, to be understood touches your soul and gives you a momentary place to rest and be completely at ease. After that first event, I quickly expanded my attendance to include other groups/ev