Fire & Ice

I was discussing...ehhh...maybe more like light debating the value and challenges that may arise in having a personal Board of Directors while exploring Authority Transfer.  It was a fascinating conversation.   However, this morning I found a point I didn't have at the time.  A single text.  A simple sentence.  Great news that brought me to my knees in tears and release from a worry I hadn't realized I still carried. And there was no one to turn to.   In that moment, Kat wanted to surrender all her joy and relief to an Owner who would just gather her up, hold her, and stroke her hair, understanding the significance and all the compounded nuances from many different directions.  I would have sobbed messy snot-bubble tears into His shirt and simply felt His unrelenting strength and compassion in return.  Only He would see and have me in my truest form—completely raw, unfiltered, unguarded. It's not that I won't absolutely share the great news with my Board of Directors at

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

The last six months I've been in the process of intentional purging—shedding the physical, mental, and emotional layers that no longer serve me.  I've done this before at other key points in my life.  This urge often precedes a time of major transformation in my life, each of which has always brought me closer in alignment to my truth and the fulfillment of my needs and desires.   In many ways, I'm a minimalist with a simple life that holds many complicated...nuances.  After half a dozen cycles of metamorphosis in my years, what I leave behind now holds little to no emotional, mental, or physical value to me.  This round of stripping off the bullshit feels incredibly easy, natural, right.  Wholehearted relief.  I'm cleansing myself of unnecessary weight, so that I can adapt to the future that is coming for me.    Then comes the acknowledgement of what remains.  Previously, I've had to face ugly truths and heal deep wounds that were brought to light.  I won't pre

SPLF 23 represented a abrupt shift in my journey.  I wasn't prepared to be seen, to be acknowledged in the sea of humanity, to be wrapped in tight hugs. let alone be fiercely protected and held firmly side-by-side.  I was both deeply humbled and profoundly honored.  Many times. Those five days in Dallas moved me and pushed me on another new path of transformation. After years of pandemic coping that focused only on areas in my life I could evolve, I remembered I had a heart. And...After years of watching how individuals moved/did not move, stood/did not stand, built/attempted to destroy, were 100% authentic/fakers of funk, driven by idealistic goals/greedy self-promotion, I realized I needed fucking space to breathe. Since the Spring, I've been reevaluating how I move, what I give, when I should engage, where I need to be, and who I directly or indirectly offer my co-signature.  I've taken many healthy steps to create a more positive environment for myself and connected in

Sometimes a bitch just needs to be snatched up.  A slow harmless caress that gently eases into thought-shattering pain.  In a heartbeat nothing mattered in my world but where His hand touched me. No passersbys on their way home from their Manhattan commute. No dog walkers following their four-legged companions along crowded sidewalks. No city bike riders feet from His driver's side door. All that mattered was my surrender to Him and the pain that echoed throughout my body. I needed His touch and bruising acts of methodical violence more than I needed my next breath. My world simply felt better suffering under Him. My masochist woke from her slumber and wept in relief. My Lioness stirred for the first time in weeks, listening in case He called. My whore longed for Him to spread her legs and take everything and anything He wanted from her. My dress crept up my thighs even as slickness drenched them. My hands clenched and teeth dug into my bottom lip. I lost count of my quiet whimpers

My Saturday did NOT go as I expected at ALL.  A whole lot of never ever coulda been planned spontaneous serendipity manifested that resulted in even MORE of DominaKat’s rules of order being broken and breaking open of multiple shoeboxes.   Fuck me...How the hell are these disorderly events becoming a THING?!?   ~whimper~  It was messy and beautiful and stomach lurching and thrilling and ended in a rituals of reverence that stole my breath away once again. The Universe is definitely demonstrating Her power and yes...some twisted Sadism. lol  As I watched Her simultaneously converge, in literally minutes and from multiple directions, various key stars in my sky, my vision may have swam.  I wasn’t fuckin prepared for any of it, which is also starting to feel like another damn theme in my life of late , but I trusted, gave in, and surrendered again to Her will.  What was meant to be was gonna be, regardless of my comfortability.  She has taken a very firm hand with me the last couple of mo

It was around 7pm when I first felt its whispers.  From my spot—legs spread wide to stretch on the warm sand—a dark, earthy, slow-as-shit pulse began to seep into my cunt and lick my thighs, calves, and feet.  Within 30 minutes, the energy shift was tangible, from Coney Island's daytime chaos of fusion jazz with a thousand cymbal clashes and multiple keyboard lines to evening's more grounded, indigenous bass line of drums that teased and seduced my soul.  As folks departed the beach, the natural earth energy, no longer held down by the mass of humanity's emotion and need, rose like a tide to wash over me and snatch me down to its lair.   Stripped of emotions and encased in a cool comforting Peace, every part of me slowed down to a crawl.  After revving high for days...weeks...I purred at idled as the sun dropped behind the manufactured lights and gave way to the sharp glow of a New Moon...new beginnings. That was last night.   More than 16 hours later, this energy still has