A slut can't help herself.
She craves it.
Wants it.
Needs it.
All.
His hands touching her.
His mouth devouring her.
His mind tormenting her.
His dick plowing into her.
Her lust is insatiable.
Her body a willing vessel.
She opens her hot wet mouth to pleasure.
She spreads her warm thighs in welcome.
A slut's destiny.
Is her Beast.
Take her hard.
Use her brutally.
Hurt her without mercy.
Destroy her and set her free.
Give her all.
Unrestrained passion.
Consuming pain.
Broken tears.
Strong bonds.
She knows no other fate.
But the raping and use of her holes.
The sweet violent release of orgasm.
By the only One who is strong enough to tame her.
A slut's destiny.
Is her beast.
A wild temptress.
Mindless in her ecstasy.
A hungry animal long buried inside her.
Searching to be claimed.
Take it all.
Her strong mind.
Her pliant giving body.
Her tender heart.
Her endless soul.
Forever in heat.
Waiting for fulfillment.
To be forced to surrender.
Everything.
A slut's destiny.
Is submission to her Beast.
~DominaKat
Monday, December 31, 2012
One of My Challenges
I put my Man first. Not because I'm His sub/slave/pet, but because that is simply how I'm wired. It's in my DNA. My primary "rule" doesn't have shit to do with BDSM. I was like this even with my long ago first love. However my loyalty and service heart do make BDSM a natural fit and not just a game I fake my way through or a role I pretend to embrace.
I'm not at all new to BDSM concepts and theory. However, I AM new to the application of BDSM since M is the first Man to ever have the strength, intelligence, focus, and intention to dominate me. I've learned so much in the last 10 months, and I'm still learning. I like to think I'm pretty adept at picking up on what I need to do or what is expected of me. Yet occasionally I stumble and can't quite "get" it.
I confess...I stumble because I actually think. Again...another thing that is simply in my DNA. I can't help it. I'm not a stupid helpless lamb mewing in the corner. I'm a smart, loyal lioness on M's leash. Some guys and weak doms may consider my intelligence and thought process a huge drawback, and maybe they have a point because for better or worse while I can usually take immediate instructions well I can't just work on mindless autopilot. I think about how x will effect y and impact my Daddy, how if a resulted before in b, then maybe doing c would be better for my Man. If I can't decide what's best, I ask questions and more questions. Until the process makes sense in my head, I struggle because I don't know with certainty how to apply what I'm learning correctly for my Dom's benefit. Is it complicated in my head at times? Fuck yes. Can I be kind of a handful for M? ~sigh~ Yeah. However, once I learn something well it sinks in deep, and in the long run - that makes me a damn good loyal submissive.
So the first of my current challenges...
Separating D/s from Sex:
I am an extremely sexual creature and for me damn near every emotion can lead to sexual activities in my book. If I'm stressed, I want to fuck. Angry? I want a vicious, punishing round. Sad? I want soft, slow, comforting loving. I'm happy...fun, playful naughtiness. I express my emotions sexually whenever I have the opportunity. It isn't enough for me to verbalize...I want to physically demonstrate my heart and soul with my Man. Before I go further, I should probably explain. I can just imagine the thoughts these words conjure, so...
- Yes...I do have plenty of non-sexual downtime.
- Yes...I am almost always a breath away from shifting to that sexual mental and physical space.
- No...I've never been a fucking whore/ho/skank/slut. In fact after my divorce I somehow went essentially 6 years without sex.
- 99.9999% of the population holds no sexual attraction to me despite my high sex drive. Stars practically have to align for me to want to be with someone. You could say I'm a very picky bitch.
- I am often labeled as "insatiable" which can either be a benefit or an...exhaustion. In fact, in previous relationships I've actually felt guilty a time or two for wanting to be sexual with my partner...for wanting too much.
- M is the only Man that has the ability to sexually sate my hungers. I can't explain how exactly he does it. I only know that afterwards...I curl up under Him and feel utter peace.
Now...back to the challenge. When I feel dominated and submissive with M, it immediately triggers a sexual response. While M and I may be long distance, our roles are still essentially 24/7 between us. So there are times when His dominance puts me in the mood for things that are neither practical nor appropriate for what we have in front of us. ~sigh~ At times, I have felt extremely self conscious of my high sex drive because I don't want to be a burden for M, especially when He's in the middle of something pulling Him in a completely different direction.
However, internally my signals are crossed. When I ask permissions (as I'm expected) I often mentally and physically associate the permission asking to sex. What has finally made sense and gotten through my thick skull is that things like orgasm control aren't tied to sex for M nor are they pushing my sexuality on Him, those acts are first and foremost an opportunity for Him to control His pet.
Between my high and quick responsiveness to M, things currently on our plates, and our slight geographic challenge, I have been tying myself up in knots about my sex drive. I absolutely do NOT want Him to feel like I'm too much. ~sigh~ I've been spinning this around in my head in so many ways trying to make things make sense, when all I needed to do was separate D/s from sex and focus on the comfort and security our roles provide us.
Now that I see it, I don't know how I kept missing it for so long. Augh. So simple.
~DominaKat
~DominaKat
Saturday Night Slut - Part I
It was a cool, fall night in the Village. I had dressed as M requested in my brown suede knee high boots, short, swishy brown skirt, and warm, clingy black turtle neck with a zippered front. My very presentable vanilla attire showing sass and style would have caused little stir. However M had refused to let me wear a bra and had tugged the zipper low. By heavy breasts jiggled with every step, every laugh, every move. My big aureolas kept peeking out of the gaping v. As we'd walked down the busy streets guys had stared often and nodded to M with approval. Every time it happened he'd laughed then blatantly groped my tits while calling me a slut no matter who was near. Heat would flush my body, but the next moment M would be right back to the conversation we'd been having then laugh again when I had to take a moment to regroup. I'd essentially been His yo-yo since we left to catch the train.
Once we sat down in the back booth for dinner I thought I might catch a break. I was sadly mistaken. M had ordered our drinks. Instead of my usual boring ice water, he'd requested a double vodka and cranberry for me. With my raised eyebrow, he with no qualms announced his intention. "I plan to get you drunk, pet. You'll be helpless and at my mercy within the next three hours. Eat light." A sliver of dread filled me. I hadn't ever been drunk with M. I'm not really much of a drinker. In fact it had been years since I'd let myself have too many and slip into silly, talkative, adventurous drunkness. As the drinks were set on the table, I gave in to the inevitable and trusted M as I did with everything. M's sadistic dark smirk accompanied his "to a very fun evening' toast. I showed my acceptance of His plans with a long drink and let the the first kick of alcohol give me that instant inner sigh. What would be would be.
After our dinner was ordered and a bit of banter, M raised His hand to my cheek to turn my face toward Him. "Look at me, pet." Seeing His dark hooded eyes, I realized His beast was hungry and eager to toy with me. "Lean back. I want to play with my property." My eyes never left His to scan any possible witnesses. I was only focused on pleasing Him. Luckily being in the back booth, the only patrons that might notice were three college guys drinking more beer and arguing football. I seriously doubted they would raise an alarm. I leaned back to dropped my arms to my sides. M's warm hand slid easily into my gaping top. They weren't kind. He cupped my tit and squeezed hard before playing so teasingly with my nipple ring. "Such lovely slutty tits. Tug down that zipper just a bit more, whore. Give the waiter and those horny boys something for their dicks to get hard about." My jittery hand lifted and obeyed, letting the v of my shirt widen enough for M to expose my hardened nipple. I could feel my face flush and pussy weep. My breathing became shallow. "So responsive you are. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you." I bit my lip and nodded in surrender. M's hand left my chest leaving my breast on display. He reached in my drink to scoop an ice cube and brought it back to the nipple. I jerked at the frigid wetness. He only laughed. "Spread your legs."
"M..." I whimpered.
"Do it, cunt." My legs spread. "Pull up that skirt and let me see my meat." My fists gripped the edges and dragged at the material. He slowly slid the ice cube up my pale thighs before raising up to let cold drops fall to my hooded clit. I groaned. My hips started to grind in need. Another dark chuckle. "Such a filthy slut. Let's try to cool down that hole." His fingers proceeded to shove that frozen chunk through my tender folds and up into my hot wet cunt. "You're so hot it won't last a minute. Cover up, pet. Our waiter's not sure if he should leave our salads or stroke His dick."
~DominaKat
Once we sat down in the back booth for dinner I thought I might catch a break. I was sadly mistaken. M had ordered our drinks. Instead of my usual boring ice water, he'd requested a double vodka and cranberry for me. With my raised eyebrow, he with no qualms announced his intention. "I plan to get you drunk, pet. You'll be helpless and at my mercy within the next three hours. Eat light." A sliver of dread filled me. I hadn't ever been drunk with M. I'm not really much of a drinker. In fact it had been years since I'd let myself have too many and slip into silly, talkative, adventurous drunkness. As the drinks were set on the table, I gave in to the inevitable and trusted M as I did with everything. M's sadistic dark smirk accompanied his "to a very fun evening' toast. I showed my acceptance of His plans with a long drink and let the the first kick of alcohol give me that instant inner sigh. What would be would be.
After our dinner was ordered and a bit of banter, M raised His hand to my cheek to turn my face toward Him. "Look at me, pet." Seeing His dark hooded eyes, I realized His beast was hungry and eager to toy with me. "Lean back. I want to play with my property." My eyes never left His to scan any possible witnesses. I was only focused on pleasing Him. Luckily being in the back booth, the only patrons that might notice were three college guys drinking more beer and arguing football. I seriously doubted they would raise an alarm. I leaned back to dropped my arms to my sides. M's warm hand slid easily into my gaping top. They weren't kind. He cupped my tit and squeezed hard before playing so teasingly with my nipple ring. "Such lovely slutty tits. Tug down that zipper just a bit more, whore. Give the waiter and those horny boys something for their dicks to get hard about." My jittery hand lifted and obeyed, letting the v of my shirt widen enough for M to expose my hardened nipple. I could feel my face flush and pussy weep. My breathing became shallow. "So responsive you are. You'd let me do anything, wouldn't you." I bit my lip and nodded in surrender. M's hand left my chest leaving my breast on display. He reached in my drink to scoop an ice cube and brought it back to the nipple. I jerked at the frigid wetness. He only laughed. "Spread your legs."
"M..." I whimpered.
"Do it, cunt." My legs spread. "Pull up that skirt and let me see my meat." My fists gripped the edges and dragged at the material. He slowly slid the ice cube up my pale thighs before raising up to let cold drops fall to my hooded clit. I groaned. My hips started to grind in need. Another dark chuckle. "Such a filthy slut. Let's try to cool down that hole." His fingers proceeded to shove that frozen chunk through my tender folds and up into my hot wet cunt. "You're so hot it won't last a minute. Cover up, pet. Our waiter's not sure if he should leave our salads or stroke His dick."
~DominaKat
Sunday, December 30, 2012
Simple, Sweet Moments with Daddy
Every once and a while, I run across something that slips past my guard and tugs hard and quick at my heart. Last night I was watching a family movie with my mom when I felt that punch. In the scene the very vanilla completely dressed couple were simply getting into bed when the husband rolled her to her back and covered her with his body to kiss and nibble at her while they chatted. It may be a basic and common practice between couples, but that tender, loving moment squeezed the breath from me. I missed my Daddy so terribly I had to fight back tears.
The first night we were together, He held me tight for hours. It was like He was determined to make up for every night I'd spent alone for the last 10 years and every night I'd spent in misery the 10 years before that. He slowly and firmly stroked my body, not to seduce me to open my thighs but to open my heart. I'd never before felt so wanted, cherished, and loved. I'm not sure if He felt it, but I remember how I trembled in his arms. I was afraid of that tenderness even as with each touch I discovered how starved I was for affection. Daddy fed me that night and the next and every night we've spent together since, knowing more than I how much I need the simple and sweet side of love. My heart is in His hands as I've given it to Him without reservations.
Over the last year, Daddy and I have spent many long hours tucked under covers or in the nest. Those are some of my sweetest memories of 2012. Long slow deep kisses. Little kisses and cuddles. Petting and tight hugs. Quiet heartfelt whispers. Healing tears. Laughter and giggles. Sighs and whimpers. I simply adore being wrapped in M's heat, a delicious tangle of arms and legs. My memories of those simple, sweet moments with my Daddy warm me every night as I fall asleep.
I can't wait to add more memories in the coming year. ~sigh~
~DominaKat
The first night we were together, He held me tight for hours. It was like He was determined to make up for every night I'd spent alone for the last 10 years and every night I'd spent in misery the 10 years before that. He slowly and firmly stroked my body, not to seduce me to open my thighs but to open my heart. I'd never before felt so wanted, cherished, and loved. I'm not sure if He felt it, but I remember how I trembled in his arms. I was afraid of that tenderness even as with each touch I discovered how starved I was for affection. Daddy fed me that night and the next and every night we've spent together since, knowing more than I how much I need the simple and sweet side of love. My heart is in His hands as I've given it to Him without reservations.
Over the last year, Daddy and I have spent many long hours tucked under covers or in the nest. Those are some of my sweetest memories of 2012. Long slow deep kisses. Little kisses and cuddles. Petting and tight hugs. Quiet heartfelt whispers. Healing tears. Laughter and giggles. Sighs and whimpers. I simply adore being wrapped in M's heat, a delicious tangle of arms and legs. My memories of those simple, sweet moments with my Daddy warm me every night as I fall asleep.
I can't wait to add more memories in the coming year. ~sigh~
~DominaKat
Friday, December 28, 2012
A Bad Girl, Anyway
Cranky. Horny. Hungry. Fussy. Slutty. I need to gorge in sin. ~sigh~
I needed some sassy theme music today, and Madonna is always a kinky slut, so...
Or don't, since I can't change. How about just feed me more?
~DominaKat
I needed some sassy theme music today, and Madonna is always a kinky slut, so...
It's so hypnotic
The way he pulls on me
It's like the force of gravity
Right up under my feet
It's so erotic
This feeling can't be beat
It's coursing through my whole body
Feel the heat
....
I know, I know, I know
I shouldn't act this way
I know, I know, I know
Good girls don't misbehave
Misbehave
But I'm a bad girl, anyway
Forgive me
Or don't, since I can't change. How about just feed me more?
~DominaKat
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Then and Now
Cleaning out my inbox, I found words M had sent me at the end of March before we'd even met.
Nine months later those words are even truer, even more cemented into my soul.
I didn't expect him. I didn't expect such patience or loyalty or deep love. I expected what I'd always found. Carelessness. Lies. Distraction with the next piece of fresh meat. With every day we've found our way. We've basked in the laughter and passion. We've fought through the misunderstandings and challenges. It was only after we started to face the latter, and I found him just as committed and focused that I began to believe in His love for me.
That love...so strong and deep and true...has brought me to my knees and lifted me up to the heavens.
My sweet Daddy who nurtures and cherishes His babygirl.
My loyal tenacious M who respects and honors His woman.
My cruel sadistic bastard who torments His masochist.
My hungry passionate Beast that feeds from His victim.
My demanding Owner who protects His pet.
He is my dreamer, my idealist, my procrastinator. He pushes me. He holds me. He never fucking lets me go.
With Him...because of Him, I'm able to give more. I can be His soft spot. I can be His whore. I can be the silly sweet little girl teasing Him with goofy puppets in the store isle. I can be His bitch that organizes His projects. I can be the woman by His side whose hand he holds tightly as we walk down the street. I'm not His secret or His second choice.
I'm simply His.
No...a year ago, I never expected Him to even exist let alone walk into my life. I never expected to love again so fully, to be able to love again without holding back pieces of myself in reserve.
Yet here I am.
Thank you M.
And before you even ask...for being you. ~kiss~
~DominaKat
"I know you love me. I know you've fallen deeper and deeper every passing day. I know you crave my touch. I know you love my light and crave my dark."
Nine months later those words are even truer, even more cemented into my soul.
I didn't expect him. I didn't expect such patience or loyalty or deep love. I expected what I'd always found. Carelessness. Lies. Distraction with the next piece of fresh meat. With every day we've found our way. We've basked in the laughter and passion. We've fought through the misunderstandings and challenges. It was only after we started to face the latter, and I found him just as committed and focused that I began to believe in His love for me.
That love...so strong and deep and true...has brought me to my knees and lifted me up to the heavens.
My sweet Daddy who nurtures and cherishes His babygirl.
My loyal tenacious M who respects and honors His woman.
My cruel sadistic bastard who torments His masochist.
My hungry passionate Beast that feeds from His victim.
My demanding Owner who protects His pet.
He is my dreamer, my idealist, my procrastinator. He pushes me. He holds me. He never fucking lets me go.
With Him...because of Him, I'm able to give more. I can be His soft spot. I can be His whore. I can be the silly sweet little girl teasing Him with goofy puppets in the store isle. I can be His bitch that organizes His projects. I can be the woman by His side whose hand he holds tightly as we walk down the street. I'm not His secret or His second choice.
I'm simply His.
No...a year ago, I never expected Him to even exist let alone walk into my life. I never expected to love again so fully, to be able to love again without holding back pieces of myself in reserve.
Yet here I am.
Thank you M.
And before you even ask...for being you. ~kiss~
~DominaKat
Wednesday, December 26, 2012
The Sadistic Bastard and Filthy Whore
Slick with sweat.
Sticky thighs covered in my cum.
Tears stain my cheeks.
I beg for fucking more.
Bruises bloom.
Welts stripe.
The flush of sexual frenzy.
I am awash in His colors.
More.
Hurt me.
Yes, please...
I crave His sweet dark pain.
Use me.
You sadistic bastard.
Take.
Your filthy fucking whore.
Bent over and holes open.
Ready for torment.
Hungry for abuse.
I am a shameless greedy slut.
His black dick tunnels deep.
Through my wet, white cunt.
The hot flesh parts and sucks on His hard shaft.
I groan in ecstasy as He feeds from me.
Driving into me brutally.
A hand chokes my throat.
Another digs at my tender swollen breasts.
I cum gushing on His tight nuts.
Use me.
You sadistic bastard.
Take.
Your filthy fucking whore.
His hungry dick shifts to my ass.
He shoves that cruel head in my tight bud.
Each violent push rips deeper.
I scream as pain consumes me.
Harder.
Further.
Ruthless.
I surrender completely to our darkness.
My ass finally opens.
He rapes His hole with no mercy.
We growl in fevered hunger.
I am simply His mindless animal to rut in.
He pushes my head down.
He grips my hips painfully.
He roars as His cum pumps into me.
Fuck yes...I scream in orgasm as my cum falls.
Use me.
You sadistic bastard.
Take.
Your filthy fucking whore.
He pulls out with a groan.
I spread my cheeks and wait like an obedient dog.
His hot tangy piss drowns His fuckholes.
I sigh in submission to His intimate marking.
A fist in my hair guides me.
My mouth swallows His glistening dick.
I lick clean our violent passion as I drip of Him.
Our flavor stains my soul.
He picks up my leash and walks back to the house.
I follow in a crawl across the yard.
Smiling as He tugs His pet to His side.
I bask in my place to my Beast.
Yes...
I am used.
By my sadistic bastard.
He took.
His filthy fucking whore.
~DominaKat
Sticky thighs covered in my cum.
Tears stain my cheeks.
I beg for fucking more.
Bruises bloom.
Welts stripe.
The flush of sexual frenzy.
I am awash in His colors.
More.
Hurt me.
Yes, please...
I crave His sweet dark pain.
Use me.
You sadistic bastard.
Take.
Your filthy fucking whore.
Bent over and holes open.
Ready for torment.
Hungry for abuse.
I am a shameless greedy slut.
His black dick tunnels deep.
Through my wet, white cunt.
The hot flesh parts and sucks on His hard shaft.
I groan in ecstasy as He feeds from me.
Driving into me brutally.
A hand chokes my throat.
Another digs at my tender swollen breasts.
I cum gushing on His tight nuts.
Use me.
You sadistic bastard.
Take.
Your filthy fucking whore.
His hungry dick shifts to my ass.
He shoves that cruel head in my tight bud.
Each violent push rips deeper.
I scream as pain consumes me.
Harder.
Further.
Ruthless.
I surrender completely to our darkness.
My ass finally opens.
He rapes His hole with no mercy.
We growl in fevered hunger.
I am simply His mindless animal to rut in.
He pushes my head down.
He grips my hips painfully.
He roars as His cum pumps into me.
Fuck yes...I scream in orgasm as my cum falls.
Use me.
You sadistic bastard.
Take.
Your filthy fucking whore.
He pulls out with a groan.
I spread my cheeks and wait like an obedient dog.
His hot tangy piss drowns His fuckholes.
I sigh in submission to His intimate marking.
A fist in my hair guides me.
My mouth swallows His glistening dick.
I lick clean our violent passion as I drip of Him.
Our flavor stains my soul.
He picks up my leash and walks back to the house.
I follow in a crawl across the yard.
Smiling as He tugs His pet to His side.
I bask in my place to my Beast.
Yes...
I am used.
By my sadistic bastard.
He took.
His filthy fucking whore.
~DominaKat
Sunday, December 23, 2012
My Failure to Pay Gracefully
Three and a half beautiful days shared with M. His presence here is still sprinkled through the house. His glass. His shirt. The imprint on the pillows. The tangle of blankets on the couch. Little moments that remind me it wasn't a dream.
M gets to me so fucking deep. He fills me up with warmth and love and tenderness like no one else. That he chooses to come to me...means so damn much. It humbles me how thoroughly He takes care of me, nurtures me, protects me. Fuck...I've never had that kind of love. It simply undoes me. He loves me so hard and well. I've finally learned to let myself lean on my beautiful, amazing Daddy. I can't lie. I need Him. He's the sun that warms me and the air I breathe. I need His love, direction, encouragement, praise, approval... lol He's where I begin and end. My alpha and omega. When I wrote those words so many months ago, I had no idea how true they would become.
We said goodbye this morning. Letting go this time was so much harder. I didn't expect that. It just sort of snuck up on me. I can't at all claim that I've handled the last 11 hours well. His absence is like a vacuum. I was completely lost most of the day. I didn't know what to do with myself. We didn't have somewhere to go. I didn't have Him to love and serve. Honestly, as soon as I got back home from dropping Him off, I curled up in bed and fought my way through a storm of emotions I'm not yet use to. M's taught me how to feel again. Not just surface emotions, but the kind that rob you of breath and shake you at your core. Emotions that squeeze you and pull you painfully taut all at once. The cost of feeling that much and that deep is not a price I've learned to pay gracefully. I need to do a better job of that for M and for myself.
I've spent the last 20 years being so damn strong so that I wouldn't feel as much pain. With M prying open the door of my heart again, I sometimes get overwhelmed with the emotional storms because along with all of the beautiful, sweet feelings also come the riskier, scary kind. The latter beat my ass today. I hurt saying goodbye. I was sad at returning home alone. I feared facing my challenges without His strength surrounding me. I mourned losing His warm, laughing presence. There was more that I had to sift through as well. Old fears and insecurities that M had unintentionally brought to the surface that I still don't know how to mentally, emotionally or physically process. But it took me too many long hours today before I was finally able to see and articulate all of elements that went into my storm.
I need to be stronger and quicker than that. Babygirl had too much of a hold on me today with a woman's hurt helping to drive the chaos. ~sigh~ Now I know. I need to be more open with myself first and with M, so that things don't build up in me. I need to prepare myself better for the reality of our goodbyes, because I know he'll be back to me soon. We are only as strong as our weakest point, and I refuse to let that little bit of time between our visits and my poor grace in the face of emotions brought about by love be the weak point in us.
~DominaKat
M gets to me so fucking deep. He fills me up with warmth and love and tenderness like no one else. That he chooses to come to me...means so damn much. It humbles me how thoroughly He takes care of me, nurtures me, protects me. Fuck...I've never had that kind of love. It simply undoes me. He loves me so hard and well. I've finally learned to let myself lean on my beautiful, amazing Daddy. I can't lie. I need Him. He's the sun that warms me and the air I breathe. I need His love, direction, encouragement, praise, approval... lol He's where I begin and end. My alpha and omega. When I wrote those words so many months ago, I had no idea how true they would become.
We said goodbye this morning. Letting go this time was so much harder. I didn't expect that. It just sort of snuck up on me. I can't at all claim that I've handled the last 11 hours well. His absence is like a vacuum. I was completely lost most of the day. I didn't know what to do with myself. We didn't have somewhere to go. I didn't have Him to love and serve. Honestly, as soon as I got back home from dropping Him off, I curled up in bed and fought my way through a storm of emotions I'm not yet use to. M's taught me how to feel again. Not just surface emotions, but the kind that rob you of breath and shake you at your core. Emotions that squeeze you and pull you painfully taut all at once. The cost of feeling that much and that deep is not a price I've learned to pay gracefully. I need to do a better job of that for M and for myself.
I've spent the last 20 years being so damn strong so that I wouldn't feel as much pain. With M prying open the door of my heart again, I sometimes get overwhelmed with the emotional storms because along with all of the beautiful, sweet feelings also come the riskier, scary kind. The latter beat my ass today. I hurt saying goodbye. I was sad at returning home alone. I feared facing my challenges without His strength surrounding me. I mourned losing His warm, laughing presence. There was more that I had to sift through as well. Old fears and insecurities that M had unintentionally brought to the surface that I still don't know how to mentally, emotionally or physically process. But it took me too many long hours today before I was finally able to see and articulate all of elements that went into my storm.
I need to be stronger and quicker than that. Babygirl had too much of a hold on me today with a woman's hurt helping to drive the chaos. ~sigh~ Now I know. I need to be more open with myself first and with M, so that things don't build up in me. I need to prepare myself better for the reality of our goodbyes, because I know he'll be back to me soon. We are only as strong as our weakest point, and I refuse to let that little bit of time between our visits and my poor grace in the face of emotions brought about by love be the weak point in us.
~DominaKat
Saturday, November 17, 2012
Daddy's Arms
There's nothing like Daddy's arms.
Tight and protective around me.
The warm shelter of His embrace.
Within them I am free.
To soar so high.
To love deep and true.
Peace like I've never known.
Sweet joy blooms.
And old wounds fade.
Where He dries my salty tears.
Inspires my silly laughter.
And coaxes my sweet breathless surrender.
In Daddy's arms,
I am transformed.
I find my destiny.
He is my hope.
His love my anchor.
His arms my home.
~DominaKat
Tight and protective around me.
The warm shelter of His embrace.
Within them I am free.
To soar so high.
To love deep and true.
Peace like I've never known.
Sweet joy blooms.
And old wounds fade.
Where He dries my salty tears.
Inspires my silly laughter.
And coaxes my sweet breathless surrender.
In Daddy's arms,
I am transformed.
I find my destiny.
He is my hope.
His love my anchor.
His arms my home.
~DominaKat
Sunday, November 11, 2012
Owned
I am owned.
His.
His canvas to paint.
His slave to command.
His victim to torture.
My love.
My passion.
My tears.
My pain.
All His.
I've surrendered completely.
My walls have tumbled.
I am stripped bare.
My heart.
In His hands.
My submission.
At His feet.
All that I am.
Is on His leash.
He is my Alpha.
My Omega.
My Heaven.
My Hell.
I no longer hide.
He refuses to let me run.
My hand in His.
As He leads us through our journey.
My loyalty.
My trust.
My mind.
My body.
All His.
For Him I am soft and brave.
Because of Him I hope and love.
With Him I am wanton and depraved.
I am His obedient pet by His side.
I am His nasty whore in His bed.
I am His babygirl.
Who plays in fountains as He watches over.
I am His property.
That He uses and abuses at will.
I am owned.
His.
~DominaKat
His.
His canvas to paint.
His slave to command.
His victim to torture.
My love.
My passion.
My tears.
My pain.
All His.
I've surrendered completely.
My walls have tumbled.
I am stripped bare.
My heart.
In His hands.
My submission.
At His feet.
All that I am.
Is on His leash.
He is my Alpha.
My Omega.
My Heaven.
My Hell.
I no longer hide.
He refuses to let me run.
My hand in His.
As He leads us through our journey.
My loyalty.
My trust.
My mind.
My body.
All His.
For Him I am soft and brave.
Because of Him I hope and love.
With Him I am wanton and depraved.
I am His obedient pet by His side.
I am His nasty whore in His bed.
I am His babygirl.
Who plays in fountains as He watches over.
I am His property.
That He uses and abuses at will.
I am owned.
His.
~DominaKat
Monday, November 5, 2012
Waiting...
I simply don't know how to breathe without Him.
It's as if the Warrior inside me has knocked Babygirl into a coma to keep the vulnerable child from feeling anything, and now the ever practical fighter is frantically performing CPR on the battered Woman, desperate to keep her from fading into the blessed oblivion she seeks. We thought we were ready for anything.
We were so wrong.
Even the Warrior failed to anticipate that maneuver. How surprising though that regardless of the mind shattering pain we all shared, the submissive Whore was the only one left with a voice. Amid the chaos and despite her suffering, the humble, masochistic doormat knew and accepted without hesitation the only truth there was left to hang on to - we were Owned.
It didn't matter if we hadn't yet earned the right to wear His name. It didn't matter if we went unclaimed. It didn't matter if we were never enough. No matter what, she knew that we are and would always simply be His, even if He never chose to pick up our leash. She simply knelt naked and bruised in the chilly filthy mud and apologized for our foolishness and our failure until He walked away in anger and disgust, leaving this silent vacuum that threatens to drown us all.
The shock of it all is almost too much. It was like a lightening strike on a cloudless sunny day. Time has no meaning. Food unnecessary. Sleep a mysterious commodity no longer within my weak grasp. I simply sit and tremble facing my ultimate fear as the numbing cold slips so confortingly around me.
I'm waiting...
Apparently that's what I've been doing all along.
If only I had understood that critical fact, none of this would have even happened.
The Woman wouldn't have tried to be brave. The Babygirl wouldn't be trapped in darkness. The Whore wouldn't be in a daze. The Warrior wouldn't be beaten and bloody.
Yet as the practical exhausted Warrior surveys the damage, she whispers the only thing left to say, "We did out best. At least now we know."
Silence is the only reply. We simply wait. For what, we don't know. However, we have neither the courage nor strength to do more.
~DominaKat
It's as if the Warrior inside me has knocked Babygirl into a coma to keep the vulnerable child from feeling anything, and now the ever practical fighter is frantically performing CPR on the battered Woman, desperate to keep her from fading into the blessed oblivion she seeks. We thought we were ready for anything.
We were so wrong.
Even the Warrior failed to anticipate that maneuver. How surprising though that regardless of the mind shattering pain we all shared, the submissive Whore was the only one left with a voice. Amid the chaos and despite her suffering, the humble, masochistic doormat knew and accepted without hesitation the only truth there was left to hang on to - we were Owned.
It didn't matter if we hadn't yet earned the right to wear His name. It didn't matter if we went unclaimed. It didn't matter if we were never enough. No matter what, she knew that we are and would always simply be His, even if He never chose to pick up our leash. She simply knelt naked and bruised in the chilly filthy mud and apologized for our foolishness and our failure until He walked away in anger and disgust, leaving this silent vacuum that threatens to drown us all.
The shock of it all is almost too much. It was like a lightening strike on a cloudless sunny day. Time has no meaning. Food unnecessary. Sleep a mysterious commodity no longer within my weak grasp. I simply sit and tremble facing my ultimate fear as the numbing cold slips so confortingly around me.
I'm waiting...
Apparently that's what I've been doing all along.
If only I had understood that critical fact, none of this would have even happened.
The Woman wouldn't have tried to be brave. The Babygirl wouldn't be trapped in darkness. The Whore wouldn't be in a daze. The Warrior wouldn't be beaten and bloody.
Yet as the practical exhausted Warrior surveys the damage, she whispers the only thing left to say, "We did out best. At least now we know."
Silence is the only reply. We simply wait. For what, we don't know. However, we have neither the courage nor strength to do more.
~DominaKat
Sunday, October 21, 2012
Reprogrammed Default Settings
Every day a little more light shines down on where I'm at in my journey. My reactions to the new realizations vary from joy to a bit of fear, from blessed relief to a wave of awe. Today was no different. It was a very busy Sunday with company and people and laughter and stories. M and I touched bases briefly throughout the day, but our individual here and nows took precedence.
Typically after a day like today, I close the door and breathe in the blessed silence, happy to face solitude after overwhelming togetherness. Yet tonight was different. The first thought that wove around me was of walking into Daddy's arms and trailing little quiet kisses under His chin, down His neck and across His collarbone. I wanted to nuzzle up so close and smell Him so deep. I craved being wrapped contentedly in His warmth. Not in passion. Not in relief. Just...because.
Silly you might think. Maybe for you that's simply a careless habit. For me though...that's big. Real big. It's not the softness that is the surprise. I'm becoming more and more use to that new set of emotions. It was my instinctual, immediate urge to go to Him in a moment that over the last twenty years has always been to seek solitude. I can find no other way to sum this up except in techie language...my default settings have been reprogrammed. lol
My reaction isn't shock or surprise...but a gentle warm wash of wonder. Quickly followed by a lighthearted, "no one told me this would happen!" Where was the heads up for this in the D/s manual? There was plenty of review on spicy flogging and yummy bondage and the hot mindfuck, but no one prepared me for this kind of...transformation. It wasn't mentioned in the books, in the forums, in the community. M damn sure didn't mention this kind of change! lol Is this...normal???
My Dom, my Owner, my Master, my Daddy, my...M is also my Love. I don't simply seek Him just as my dominant for passion and kink or my protective safety net or my heart pounding, gut wrenching love. Don't get me wrong...those are all aspects of my relationship with M. However, there's now an element that has essentially crept quietly and deeply into me. I now move through my life with Him as my heart's intertwined companion.
In my usual Spock manner I'm tugging at the strings here. There are a hundreds reasons why I've slowly grown to find M so much a part of me, yet I never imagined this kind of relationship. It was something hinted at in movies and glimpsed upon in very rare relationships around me. It wasn't something I foolishly hoped for nor expected in the least. This wasn't a dream I would let myself crave nor believe a Man might hope to share with me. Hell...if I had been warned this might happen I may have ran or at least fought to keep it at bay.
Is this a sub/slave thing? Does this happen all the time? Are we the only one's reprogrammed? In a D/s framework when two people fit well together, do Doms with all their control and mastery also find their default setting adjusted? (No...I haven't yet spoken to M yet about this tangle of thoughts in my head. lol There hasn't been time yet for us to settle down and catch up, so I'm playing with the threads on my own, which yes...can be a dangerous thing. :-P ) Do Doms instinctually begin to reach for their subs out of a fundamental need to have their slave, sub, pet, babygirl close to them? Not in search of comfort but simply because their s is as necessary and natural to them as breathing?
Because if this is simply another one-way street of the s giving control to the D, I'm likely to be annoyed as hell. lol
~DominaKat
Typically after a day like today, I close the door and breathe in the blessed silence, happy to face solitude after overwhelming togetherness. Yet tonight was different. The first thought that wove around me was of walking into Daddy's arms and trailing little quiet kisses under His chin, down His neck and across His collarbone. I wanted to nuzzle up so close and smell Him so deep. I craved being wrapped contentedly in His warmth. Not in passion. Not in relief. Just...because.
Silly you might think. Maybe for you that's simply a careless habit. For me though...that's big. Real big. It's not the softness that is the surprise. I'm becoming more and more use to that new set of emotions. It was my instinctual, immediate urge to go to Him in a moment that over the last twenty years has always been to seek solitude. I can find no other way to sum this up except in techie language...my default settings have been reprogrammed. lol
My reaction isn't shock or surprise...but a gentle warm wash of wonder. Quickly followed by a lighthearted, "no one told me this would happen!" Where was the heads up for this in the D/s manual? There was plenty of review on spicy flogging and yummy bondage and the hot mindfuck, but no one prepared me for this kind of...transformation. It wasn't mentioned in the books, in the forums, in the community. M damn sure didn't mention this kind of change! lol Is this...normal???
My Dom, my Owner, my Master, my Daddy, my...M is also my Love. I don't simply seek Him just as my dominant for passion and kink or my protective safety net or my heart pounding, gut wrenching love. Don't get me wrong...those are all aspects of my relationship with M. However, there's now an element that has essentially crept quietly and deeply into me. I now move through my life with Him as my heart's intertwined companion.
In my usual Spock manner I'm tugging at the strings here. There are a hundreds reasons why I've slowly grown to find M so much a part of me, yet I never imagined this kind of relationship. It was something hinted at in movies and glimpsed upon in very rare relationships around me. It wasn't something I foolishly hoped for nor expected in the least. This wasn't a dream I would let myself crave nor believe a Man might hope to share with me. Hell...if I had been warned this might happen I may have ran or at least fought to keep it at bay.
Is this a sub/slave thing? Does this happen all the time? Are we the only one's reprogrammed? In a D/s framework when two people fit well together, do Doms with all their control and mastery also find their default setting adjusted? (No...I haven't yet spoken to M yet about this tangle of thoughts in my head. lol There hasn't been time yet for us to settle down and catch up, so I'm playing with the threads on my own, which yes...can be a dangerous thing. :-P ) Do Doms instinctually begin to reach for their subs out of a fundamental need to have their slave, sub, pet, babygirl close to them? Not in search of comfort but simply because their s is as necessary and natural to them as breathing?
Because if this is simply another one-way street of the s giving control to the D, I'm likely to be annoyed as hell. lol
~DominaKat
Saturday, October 20, 2012
Our Dark Storm
We dance.
We battle.
We drown.
In our dark storm.
Wicked.
Consuming.
Destruction.
Our passion like no other.
It steals my breath.
It stains our skin.
Our souls soaked with sin.
I sob.
Scream.
In ecstasy.
I am wild.
Mindless.
Insatiable for you.
At the mercy of your sadistic desires.
You growl.
Demand.
Your viciousness free to conquer.
You are my Beast.
Hungry.
Feast on our chaos.
Gorge on your helpless victim.
Yours to devour.
His meant to sate.
Our destiny.
Bound and helpless.
You take and torment with joy.
Punishing and greedy.
I accept and relish it all.
Smeared lipstick.
Jagged tear-filled sobs.
Dripping thighs.
Your fist clenches around my tender throat.
Your hands brutalize your pet's creamy flesh.
Whimpers and pleas echo in the wind.
Orgasms rips through me at my demise.
Hard dick pulses.
Fingers drenched in her hot cum.
A triumphant roar.
Your whore's soft lips to suck and devour.
Her sweet juicy cunt begs for more.
That fat ass open and waiting.
You consume all of me.
I am lost.
You are waiting.
We are found.
You command the violence.
I surrender to our dark storm.
My total submission at your feet.
Your leash I bow my head to follow.
Drag your willing whore further.
Into your darkness.
Each breath.
Ever darker.
Each step.
Ever closer to home.
In our Dark Storm.
~DominaKat
Tuesday, October 16, 2012
Dark Madness & Sin
Dress pushed up to my waist, heavy tits hanging out of my dress, I crawled to the bedroom praying He wouldn't slap that wooden spatula across my ass again. It stung like nothing else. I hate paddles, yet He found such a rush at my whimpers and pleas. He laughed as His nasty slut made her way to the bedroom on her hands and knees like a dog. Yes, I was His bitch to command, and my cunt wept with greed at the reality.
Within moments I was on my back in bed with my already cum drench thighs spread wide and wanton. There was no thought, no reason, no doubt. Just sheer fucking need to take anything he gave me. I'd have taken anything. Oh...that's right...I did take "anything."
He sat on the edge of the bed between my gaping legs. The sunlight poured over my skin and left nothing hidden in shadows. I was His whore. Pride and embarrassment couldn't register through the heavy drug of dark lust running through me. He could see blatantly how wet His bitch was, how His dog's clit begged for Him, how His meat was swelled up and aching to be stroked, how His fuckhole widened so damn eager to take. His finger slid effortlessly into His cunt. A sigh escaped my lips. Another finger. A moan. A third. A gasp.
Mmmmm...yes...filled! Exactly what I craved so desperately. But he didn't stop as He usually did. He didn't warn me. He didn't prep me with lube or coddle me with soft words. He simply kept taking what he wanted.
His forth finger unapologetically joined to thrust inside His property. "Such a good slut." He kept working His sopping wet hole. Juices covered His fingers and hand. I rode the wave building higher and higher. I arched into His thrusts mindlessly. He stretched and pushed until suddenly I was fuller than I'd ever fucking been in my life. Orgasms crashed over me as His entire fucking fist rammed and twisted inside me. I looked between my legs to see nothing but His wrist, and I was mentally shattered at the sight. There is nothing like a fist shoved inside a cunt to brutally demonstrate what a whore one is. It was divine. The sweet filling pain...the incredible pleasure...the absolute intimacy... I couldn't think. I simply took Him like a greedy filthy slut grunting and moaning and squirting. His pussy sucked at His hand and gave way to His thrusts. Again and again. I begged for more. "Yes...fuck your hole, M. Take. Don't stop." I was His soft wet pink glove. I was His in a way no one had ever dared claim.
When His fist pulled gently out of me, there was barely a moment to breathe before He was between my spread thighs again. I was high off Him and His touch. Limp and mindless, I was completely owned and eager for my Beast to keep feasting from me. Luckily, He was still quite hungry. He'd never pushed me this hard. No one had. I gloried in it. And as the cool smooth metal of the bat slid across the tender folds guarding His hole, I willingly met His demand and followed Him deeper than I'd ever been into His darkness.
Still drenched and gaping, the bat slipped effortlessly into His fuckmeat. His dark chuckle thrilled me. Just the fact that my body so greedily accepted so much so well was proof to Him of how dirty and nasty a slut I truly was. I was meant to be used and used hard. Deeper and deeper He thrust. I reached between my legs and pulled my folds harshly out of the way. I fucking wanted as much as I could take. With every inch I crossed further and further over the edge of madness and found pure freedom. He took pictures and video of His whore's wildness. I abandoned all sense of self and simply existed for my Owner's pleasure. He fucked me ruthlessly with the top eight inches of unbending metal. In and out He fed His hungry wet pussy. I was an animal rutting in heat. I panted and growled and came on that rod relentlessly without remorse. He shoved. I took. I held nothing back and gave Him my fucking soul. I was everything and nothing as I watched Him take in the scene with a dark wicked smile. Finally, He'd set the whore I'd always known I held free. I followed his lead and ran with Him through our madness.
Nothing has ever made me feel so powerful and alive as to be my Beast's eager victim in dark madness and sin.
~DominaKat
Within moments I was on my back in bed with my already cum drench thighs spread wide and wanton. There was no thought, no reason, no doubt. Just sheer fucking need to take anything he gave me. I'd have taken anything. Oh...that's right...I did take "anything."
He sat on the edge of the bed between my gaping legs. The sunlight poured over my skin and left nothing hidden in shadows. I was His whore. Pride and embarrassment couldn't register through the heavy drug of dark lust running through me. He could see blatantly how wet His bitch was, how His dog's clit begged for Him, how His meat was swelled up and aching to be stroked, how His fuckhole widened so damn eager to take. His finger slid effortlessly into His cunt. A sigh escaped my lips. Another finger. A moan. A third. A gasp.
Mmmmm...yes...filled! Exactly what I craved so desperately. But he didn't stop as He usually did. He didn't warn me. He didn't prep me with lube or coddle me with soft words. He simply kept taking what he wanted.
His forth finger unapologetically joined to thrust inside His property. "Such a good slut." He kept working His sopping wet hole. Juices covered His fingers and hand. I rode the wave building higher and higher. I arched into His thrusts mindlessly. He stretched and pushed until suddenly I was fuller than I'd ever fucking been in my life. Orgasms crashed over me as His entire fucking fist rammed and twisted inside me. I looked between my legs to see nothing but His wrist, and I was mentally shattered at the sight. There is nothing like a fist shoved inside a cunt to brutally demonstrate what a whore one is. It was divine. The sweet filling pain...the incredible pleasure...the absolute intimacy... I couldn't think. I simply took Him like a greedy filthy slut grunting and moaning and squirting. His pussy sucked at His hand and gave way to His thrusts. Again and again. I begged for more. "Yes...fuck your hole, M. Take. Don't stop." I was His soft wet pink glove. I was His in a way no one had ever dared claim.
When His fist pulled gently out of me, there was barely a moment to breathe before He was between my spread thighs again. I was high off Him and His touch. Limp and mindless, I was completely owned and eager for my Beast to keep feasting from me. Luckily, He was still quite hungry. He'd never pushed me this hard. No one had. I gloried in it. And as the cool smooth metal of the bat slid across the tender folds guarding His hole, I willingly met His demand and followed Him deeper than I'd ever been into His darkness.
Still drenched and gaping, the bat slipped effortlessly into His fuckmeat. His dark chuckle thrilled me. Just the fact that my body so greedily accepted so much so well was proof to Him of how dirty and nasty a slut I truly was. I was meant to be used and used hard. Deeper and deeper He thrust. I reached between my legs and pulled my folds harshly out of the way. I fucking wanted as much as I could take. With every inch I crossed further and further over the edge of madness and found pure freedom. He took pictures and video of His whore's wildness. I abandoned all sense of self and simply existed for my Owner's pleasure. He fucked me ruthlessly with the top eight inches of unbending metal. In and out He fed His hungry wet pussy. I was an animal rutting in heat. I panted and growled and came on that rod relentlessly without remorse. He shoved. I took. I held nothing back and gave Him my fucking soul. I was everything and nothing as I watched Him take in the scene with a dark wicked smile. Finally, He'd set the whore I'd always known I held free. I followed his lead and ran with Him through our madness.
Nothing has ever made me feel so powerful and alive as to be my Beast's eager victim in dark madness and sin.
~DominaKat
Monday, October 15, 2012
Lessons of Being A Great Fuck
Octobers are usually a bit insane for me. The number of life changing moments attributed to this month is beyond coincidence. February is the other one. ~sigh~ Yes...I am nervous, but there really isn't much to do except wait for it. Because of that and a number of other reasons, I'm reflecting this evening.
I look back just a year ago...harsh, harsh lessons. I remember the pain. I remember the reality. I was forced to realized that my partner at the time would never choose to nurture or cherish me. I was too far away, too smart, too aggressive, too dominant, too whatever for tenderness. Consideration and kindness weren't on His agenda. I was simply a great fuck. "I want to fuck you for the rest of my life. I never want to stop." Those were his words as I watched him from the bed, knowing in my heart and mind that those were the last days I'd ever see him. He'd stated what he wanted, demonstrated his self-interest, and I was unwilling to tolerate either.
While I no longer hate him for his games, those lessons can never be unlearned. It wasn't until the fiasco of our tumultuous relationship that I truly understood how many guys in my life had just enjoyed how I fucked them and never inconvenienced themselves out of any genuine love for me. Few have loved me. Most...just loved to fuck me.
I am and have always been a very sexual creature. Sexuality is a fundamental aspect of my core. Because of that, there is a part of me that does seek to be the best fuck a man has ever experienced. I absolutely want to be craved by my partner. Yet...only being valued for how I spread my legs tends to leave me hallow and cold. In the kinky land of BDSM, that inner conflict has been and sometimes still is extremely difficult for me to reconcile at times.
I am an insatiable whore, yet I want to be valued and appreciated for all of me. I can soak a bed with cum for an apt lover. I can suck a dick very well for hours. I can take pain and love it rough. I like things freaky and crave an outstanding mindfuck. lol However, there is much, much more to me. I am smart. I am occasionally silly. I am fiercely loyal. I can be soft and tender. I can be incredibly strong. I may want to fuck dirty and nasty to exhaustion, yet deep in my soul I want to grow old with someone I love true and who loves me true...someone who will still hold my hand when we're 65 and whose eyes will still light up in that special way only for me.
A year ago, I paused in my journey, finally understanding what I didn't want. I knew that with the right Man, BDSM and kink were where I would finally discover contentment and quench the hunger I have always kept chained and buried inside me. However, just a kinky dick was never going to do it. While I could flirt and banter with most, I would never find what I searched for handing playtime out like candy. Regardless of my sex drive, I would never find peace as a surface player. Only cold, hollow emptiness. I needed and deserved more. I craved depth and intimacy and a strong connection that would bind us together not simply physically but mentally and emotionally.
So I changed the direction of my journey and have been rewarded a thousand times over. I waited to find a Man who would see all of Me AND have the strength, knowledge, and experience to tame me. Comments, flirting, compliments, and requests to crawl between my legs could evaporate immediately and it would not phase me. It is only within the comfort, security, trust, and respect of my relationship with M that I'm truly learning just how great a fuck I can be and I how great ALL of me truly is.
~DominaKat
I look back just a year ago...harsh, harsh lessons. I remember the pain. I remember the reality. I was forced to realized that my partner at the time would never choose to nurture or cherish me. I was too far away, too smart, too aggressive, too dominant, too whatever for tenderness. Consideration and kindness weren't on His agenda. I was simply a great fuck. "I want to fuck you for the rest of my life. I never want to stop." Those were his words as I watched him from the bed, knowing in my heart and mind that those were the last days I'd ever see him. He'd stated what he wanted, demonstrated his self-interest, and I was unwilling to tolerate either.
While I no longer hate him for his games, those lessons can never be unlearned. It wasn't until the fiasco of our tumultuous relationship that I truly understood how many guys in my life had just enjoyed how I fucked them and never inconvenienced themselves out of any genuine love for me. Few have loved me. Most...just loved to fuck me.
I am and have always been a very sexual creature. Sexuality is a fundamental aspect of my core. Because of that, there is a part of me that does seek to be the best fuck a man has ever experienced. I absolutely want to be craved by my partner. Yet...only being valued for how I spread my legs tends to leave me hallow and cold. In the kinky land of BDSM, that inner conflict has been and sometimes still is extremely difficult for me to reconcile at times.
I am an insatiable whore, yet I want to be valued and appreciated for all of me. I can soak a bed with cum for an apt lover. I can suck a dick very well for hours. I can take pain and love it rough. I like things freaky and crave an outstanding mindfuck. lol However, there is much, much more to me. I am smart. I am occasionally silly. I am fiercely loyal. I can be soft and tender. I can be incredibly strong. I may want to fuck dirty and nasty to exhaustion, yet deep in my soul I want to grow old with someone I love true and who loves me true...someone who will still hold my hand when we're 65 and whose eyes will still light up in that special way only for me.
A year ago, I paused in my journey, finally understanding what I didn't want. I knew that with the right Man, BDSM and kink were where I would finally discover contentment and quench the hunger I have always kept chained and buried inside me. However, just a kinky dick was never going to do it. While I could flirt and banter with most, I would never find what I searched for handing playtime out like candy. Regardless of my sex drive, I would never find peace as a surface player. Only cold, hollow emptiness. I needed and deserved more. I craved depth and intimacy and a strong connection that would bind us together not simply physically but mentally and emotionally.
So I changed the direction of my journey and have been rewarded a thousand times over. I waited to find a Man who would see all of Me AND have the strength, knowledge, and experience to tame me. Comments, flirting, compliments, and requests to crawl between my legs could evaporate immediately and it would not phase me. It is only within the comfort, security, trust, and respect of my relationship with M that I'm truly learning just how great a fuck I can be and I how great ALL of me truly is.
~DominaKat
Sunday, October 14, 2012
Temporary Emptiness
My previous post set off some warning bells with a few friends as well as with M. Let me very clear here...NONE of those things have EVER happened nor been suggested, and M was VERY concerned after reading my post. Often times, written words are my best form of communication. Within them I find a clarity and expression that I can never articulate verbally as I'm thinking in the moment when I speak. As I write...I turn inside and forget everything around me to pull at the tangle of threads cluttering my mind. Yesterday was no different. I explored in that moment where I was. No...it wasn't pretty. However, it wasn't the ugly dragging muck of depression either. I was neutral. I was detached and unengaged. It wasn't that I was lost. It was simply the emotional pieces of me were buried deep asleep and silent.
There were many factors that likely prompted my emptiness.
I'd just returned back to my quiet, calm sanctuary after a week of visiting with family and nearly grown children. There were long hours in the car. There was laughter and joy and annoyances and a nearly unrelenting sea of visiting. Even though my children look me in the eye if not down at me and their lives are now essentially their own, I was able to put my hands on my kids' heads and run my fingers through their hair just as I did when they were toddlers. That little joy is a rare and blessed treat now a days. Being able to briefly and practically step into the role of mom for a moment is quite a break from my essentially solitary and peaceful life in the woods. I look back on yesterday as a pain-free transition out of that role and back in the everyday worries and stress of real life.
Another contributing factor would be that M was neither here nor actively seeking any direct form of my submission from afar. Not unusual at all. We ebb and flow based on our needs and life's demands. What was unusual for me was that with the emptiness that filled me, I couldn't connect in any way to my submission. There was no defiance or rebellion. I was simply disconnected. I've played a little before when I found myself in this headspace, and it's quite frankly a curiosity that I'm interested in exploring. My pain threshold rises quite high. In the few self-imposed experiments I've attempted, pain simply doesn't register in the same way. Instead of feeling those sweet dark sensations and devouring that energy like a hungry beast. I'm nearly numb. I'd very much like to play with M during one of these days to determine how I would handle His pain and if I can even find that beautiful masochist space He always takes me to. Then again...I'm not even sure one of these...moods? would occur with M in direct proximity. After His response to my writing yesterday, I know damn sure, He would do His best to get me out of that funk. He did NOT like where I was, and for that I'm comforted.
Today, I'm a bit less detached as I'm getting my regular groove back. I sincerely apologize if I gave anyone cause for concern. That was not at all my intention. I was merely ruthlessly digging into my psyche and exploring my temporary emptiness. I was very surprised at the responses I received from my Fet acquaintances. Too often the surface banter and careless mentality seems to be the most prevalent message across Fet. While I know there is MUCH more depth to be found within the community, I've rarely received that type of kindness/communications since I still consider myself new and learning, and I tend stand by the sidelines in the larger scheme of the community. To those that reached out...a very heartfelt thank you. :-) ~hugs~
~DominaKat
There were many factors that likely prompted my emptiness.
I'd just returned back to my quiet, calm sanctuary after a week of visiting with family and nearly grown children. There were long hours in the car. There was laughter and joy and annoyances and a nearly unrelenting sea of visiting. Even though my children look me in the eye if not down at me and their lives are now essentially their own, I was able to put my hands on my kids' heads and run my fingers through their hair just as I did when they were toddlers. That little joy is a rare and blessed treat now a days. Being able to briefly and practically step into the role of mom for a moment is quite a break from my essentially solitary and peaceful life in the woods. I look back on yesterday as a pain-free transition out of that role and back in the everyday worries and stress of real life.
Another contributing factor would be that M was neither here nor actively seeking any direct form of my submission from afar. Not unusual at all. We ebb and flow based on our needs and life's demands. What was unusual for me was that with the emptiness that filled me, I couldn't connect in any way to my submission. There was no defiance or rebellion. I was simply disconnected. I've played a little before when I found myself in this headspace, and it's quite frankly a curiosity that I'm interested in exploring. My pain threshold rises quite high. In the few self-imposed experiments I've attempted, pain simply doesn't register in the same way. Instead of feeling those sweet dark sensations and devouring that energy like a hungry beast. I'm nearly numb. I'd very much like to play with M during one of these days to determine how I would handle His pain and if I can even find that beautiful masochist space He always takes me to. Then again...I'm not even sure one of these...moods? would occur with M in direct proximity. After His response to my writing yesterday, I know damn sure, He would do His best to get me out of that funk. He did NOT like where I was, and for that I'm comforted.
Today, I'm a bit less detached as I'm getting my regular groove back. I sincerely apologize if I gave anyone cause for concern. That was not at all my intention. I was merely ruthlessly digging into my psyche and exploring my temporary emptiness. I was very surprised at the responses I received from my Fet acquaintances. Too often the surface banter and careless mentality seems to be the most prevalent message across Fet. While I know there is MUCH more depth to be found within the community, I've rarely received that type of kindness/communications since I still consider myself new and learning, and I tend stand by the sidelines in the larger scheme of the community. To those that reached out...a very heartfelt thank you. :-) ~hugs~
~DominaKat
Saturday, October 13, 2012
Empty and Obedient
UPDATE/IMPORTANT NOTE: Let me very clear here...NONE of the situations below have happened nor been suggested, and M was VERY concerned after reading my post. Often times, written words are my best form of communication. Within them I find a clarity and expression that I can never articulate verbally as I'm thinking in the moment when I speak. As I write...I turn inside and forget everything around me to pull at the tangle of threads cluttering my mind. This post was no different. I explored in that moment where I was and there were many factors that likely prompted my emptiness. For more on those see the next post: Temporary Emptiness
There are days when submission is neither felt nor inspired. I am empty today. My sex drive is flat. My heart feels cut off. I just breathe and do. When that grey sea of nothing overtakes me, my submission exists only consciously. I am obedient. These words are a result of that. Anything He asked, requested, or demanded I would do. In some ways, I am the perfect toy in this mood as nothing touches me. There are no emotions to counter, no physical sensitivities, and no...morals or ethics. All of that is in a deep quiet sleep far, far away.
If He pushed Himself between my legs and shoved His hard dick through my dry folds, tearing into His tender cunt, I'd simply open wider. I would be His cock warmer. His cum dump. His rag doll to use. My body might get wet. It may even cum. But I'd feel nothing inside. I would lay there nearly unresponsive as He took what He desired. "Yes, Sir."
If He told me to spread my legs and bend over the counter as I did dishes, I would. I'd stand quiet and unmoving as my sadistic bastard defiled His holes however He chose. I'd arch my back, so He could watch whatever thing He chose to fuck His property with slide in and out of my flesh. I'd feel no embarassment. Meat feels nothing. It is only consumed.
If He asked me to crawl naked down NYC's busy Broadway leashed like a dog, I would. I would be oblivious to the humiliation and the rough scrapes of the pavement on my hands and knees. I'd follow His lead. I would take treats from His hand because He expected it. I would squat on command and piss on the sidewalk without a care. A good bitch obeys her owner.
If He tied me up and chose to beat me, I'd lay there and take each strike with a "Thank you Sir." The pain would barely register. His crop's lick. His flogger's kiss. His belt's blow. His hand's slap. His wooden spatula's sting. He could pound at me. He could paint His canvas in bruises and welts, but I would likely not flinch. No tears. No pleads. Mercy would be completely unnecessary. Then when he abandons me still bound on the floor, His piss drying on my skin, I would wait with unending patience for His return, entombed in my grey nothingness.
If He pulled out my fat, heavy tits in a crowded bar filled with men, I would sit silently uncaring as others licked me with their eyes. If he chose to let them grope, His whore would submit to the use without shame. If he laid me out on the table and shoved my dress to my waist and made me squirt in front of a rapt audience of strangers, I would neither resist nor feel any high. If he commanded me to lay there as a train ran between my thighs, I'd silently watch His face curious as to His reaction as anonymous men took their fill of a random, nameless gutter slut available for rutting. When He'd had His fill and finally decide it was time to leave, I'd walk quietly beside Him reeking of sex. An empty ghost unmoved from the sins committed in the previous hours.
Sometimes all I do is exist. When He is ready for all of me, He'll tug those strings, and I'll be whole once more. Until then...all that's left is for me to obey.
~DominaKat
**************
There are days when submission is neither felt nor inspired. I am empty today. My sex drive is flat. My heart feels cut off. I just breathe and do. When that grey sea of nothing overtakes me, my submission exists only consciously. I am obedient. These words are a result of that. Anything He asked, requested, or demanded I would do. In some ways, I am the perfect toy in this mood as nothing touches me. There are no emotions to counter, no physical sensitivities, and no...morals or ethics. All of that is in a deep quiet sleep far, far away.
If He pushed Himself between my legs and shoved His hard dick through my dry folds, tearing into His tender cunt, I'd simply open wider. I would be His cock warmer. His cum dump. His rag doll to use. My body might get wet. It may even cum. But I'd feel nothing inside. I would lay there nearly unresponsive as He took what He desired. "Yes, Sir."
If He told me to spread my legs and bend over the counter as I did dishes, I would. I'd stand quiet and unmoving as my sadistic bastard defiled His holes however He chose. I'd arch my back, so He could watch whatever thing He chose to fuck His property with slide in and out of my flesh. I'd feel no embarassment. Meat feels nothing. It is only consumed.
If He asked me to crawl naked down NYC's busy Broadway leashed like a dog, I would. I would be oblivious to the humiliation and the rough scrapes of the pavement on my hands and knees. I'd follow His lead. I would take treats from His hand because He expected it. I would squat on command and piss on the sidewalk without a care. A good bitch obeys her owner.
If He tied me up and chose to beat me, I'd lay there and take each strike with a "Thank you Sir." The pain would barely register. His crop's lick. His flogger's kiss. His belt's blow. His hand's slap. His wooden spatula's sting. He could pound at me. He could paint His canvas in bruises and welts, but I would likely not flinch. No tears. No pleads. Mercy would be completely unnecessary. Then when he abandons me still bound on the floor, His piss drying on my skin, I would wait with unending patience for His return, entombed in my grey nothingness.
If He pulled out my fat, heavy tits in a crowded bar filled with men, I would sit silently uncaring as others licked me with their eyes. If he chose to let them grope, His whore would submit to the use without shame. If he laid me out on the table and shoved my dress to my waist and made me squirt in front of a rapt audience of strangers, I would neither resist nor feel any high. If he commanded me to lay there as a train ran between my thighs, I'd silently watch His face curious as to His reaction as anonymous men took their fill of a random, nameless gutter slut available for rutting. When He'd had His fill and finally decide it was time to leave, I'd walk quietly beside Him reeking of sex. An empty ghost unmoved from the sins committed in the previous hours.
Sometimes all I do is exist. When He is ready for all of me, He'll tug those strings, and I'll be whole once more. Until then...all that's left is for me to obey.
~DominaKat
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Ever Darker
I've crossed a line. There's no longer any going back. I've now done things that no decent, nice girl would do...would allow...would even think about. Yet, I eagerly and willingly did them with and for M, and I relished every moment of them.
Each time I spread my legs for Him I open myself further to His wicked, sadistic ways. He sets the whore in me free and toys with her slow demise. Even the smallest acts take on a dark shadow. When I spread my long thick legs and bent over the counter with my dress pushed up my waist, He played with His fuck hole until cum rained down across the floor. Every splash, every drip, echoed through the house branding me His greedy slut. The slippery puddle evidence of my unrepentant sins. I came and came like a facet for Him. As his dick slid in and out of His hole I realized I was doomed. I craved being His insatiable slut. I'd never get enough of Him.
When I knelt in my own juices and sucked my cum off his hard dick, choking and drooling, I knew nothing but serving Him. I proudly looked up at my Master as He fucked my face and gave me purpose. When I clung to His feet, I embraced my submission and my fate. I would do anything He demanded. So, I obeyed like any good bitch would and crawled across the cold hard tile through the house as He beat me. However, that was only a prelude.
When finally I found the comfort of the bed, it truly began. I left sanity and reason behind. There was only M. I was pure animal as He did things to His whore that I'll never admit to anyone. I watched through a dark sexual haze His smile of delight as He took and did exactly what He desired. He violated me like no other. I stared down between my open legs and panted like a wanton dog at the humiliating things He did to me. I had never felt such intense mindless pleasure.
And I want more. He knows instinctually I crave more. Within M's darkness I find freedom to be who and what I've always held deeply buried in my soul. His nasty whore. His depraved slut. His property. He's barely scratched the surface with me. It stuns me to know there is so much left to explore with Him.
With each step, my journey with M becomes ever darker. In those inky shadows I find bliss and a contentment I've never known. I seek His pride, His pleasure, and His satisfaction in becoming the best He's ever had. I understand without question that there is no other way but forward following M into the dark.
~DominaKat
Each time I spread my legs for Him I open myself further to His wicked, sadistic ways. He sets the whore in me free and toys with her slow demise. Even the smallest acts take on a dark shadow. When I spread my long thick legs and bent over the counter with my dress pushed up my waist, He played with His fuck hole until cum rained down across the floor. Every splash, every drip, echoed through the house branding me His greedy slut. The slippery puddle evidence of my unrepentant sins. I came and came like a facet for Him. As his dick slid in and out of His hole I realized I was doomed. I craved being His insatiable slut. I'd never get enough of Him.
When I knelt in my own juices and sucked my cum off his hard dick, choking and drooling, I knew nothing but serving Him. I proudly looked up at my Master as He fucked my face and gave me purpose. When I clung to His feet, I embraced my submission and my fate. I would do anything He demanded. So, I obeyed like any good bitch would and crawled across the cold hard tile through the house as He beat me. However, that was only a prelude.
When finally I found the comfort of the bed, it truly began. I left sanity and reason behind. There was only M. I was pure animal as He did things to His whore that I'll never admit to anyone. I watched through a dark sexual haze His smile of delight as He took and did exactly what He desired. He violated me like no other. I stared down between my open legs and panted like a wanton dog at the humiliating things He did to me. I had never felt such intense mindless pleasure.
And I want more. He knows instinctually I crave more. Within M's darkness I find freedom to be who and what I've always held deeply buried in my soul. His nasty whore. His depraved slut. His property. He's barely scratched the surface with me. It stuns me to know there is so much left to explore with Him.
With each step, my journey with M becomes ever darker. In those inky shadows I find bliss and a contentment I've never known. I seek His pride, His pleasure, and His satisfaction in becoming the best He's ever had. I understand without question that there is no other way but forward following M into the dark.
~DominaKat
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Rage & Fury - Part I
I tremble in rage and fury. The storm crackles. The air thick with unleashed violence. My flesh naked under the brooding sky. Wrists and ankles shackled. Throat collared. I'm spread eagle in sacrifice.
My beast circles me. Taunts. Eager for the challenge to tame. His hand drives between my legs. His slick hot cunt to defile. Fingers momentarily pillage. I grind in vain with so little slack. I am His. Bound and tormented. There is no relief to my lust. I am helpless. I growl in rage. I scream in fury. "Whore." His fingers beating against my inner walls. "Slut." He pulls out in cruelty. "Meat." His palm slaps against His slit.
I cry out. Lifting my eyes to his, I growl between clenched teeth, "Fuck you." His fingers reach up to tease beaded nipples. I gasp and pull against my chains, arching to get closer. I pant like a pathetic dog. My eyes unfocused in raving hunger. His cunt drips like thick honey. His dark laugh licks my conscious evilly. I snarl viciously trying to bite, craving the taste of His flesh and blood.
Lightening flashes. His fist wraps in my hair. "I own this," he states absolutely running his free hand over my body. A tender kiss to my chin. An amused lick across my cheek. "Bitch, you're mine." Thunder clashes. His palm strikes my face. "Mind. Body. Soul." Another hard slap. I struggle against my bonds and his grip. As the rain begins he steps away to begin.
His crop licks fire across my breasts. Within moments I lose count and simply devour the pain. My body His canvas to paint. Welts quickly criss cross across my flesh - breasts, ass, back and thighs. His calm, patient demands a chant to my soul. "Surrender... Submit."
I am defiant and refuse to give in. My lust rages. Fury rips through my soul. He refuses to give enough pain to take me down. My punishment controlled and methodical. I am nothing more than His instrument to play. The crop slips between my legs, stroking through the heavy folds. He slowly pushes the tip inside me. Momentarily, I drown in the small pleasure and wait unmoving. I scream in frustration when he refuses to give me more. I fucking need more.
From behind me he whispers, "Beg whore. Plead for mercy." He reaches arrogantly around my waist to spread my lips wide and tempt my throbbing clit with the night air. So close. My hips buck to no avail. He pulls the crop from His juicy cunt and drags the leather tongue across my hard clit. The barest touch nearly enough. "Give in, bitch."
Swallowing my first sob, I whisper my offer, "Not until you give me your rage and let me feel your fury."
~DominaKat
My beast circles me. Taunts. Eager for the challenge to tame. His hand drives between my legs. His slick hot cunt to defile. Fingers momentarily pillage. I grind in vain with so little slack. I am His. Bound and tormented. There is no relief to my lust. I am helpless. I growl in rage. I scream in fury. "Whore." His fingers beating against my inner walls. "Slut." He pulls out in cruelty. "Meat." His palm slaps against His slit.
I cry out. Lifting my eyes to his, I growl between clenched teeth, "Fuck you." His fingers reach up to tease beaded nipples. I gasp and pull against my chains, arching to get closer. I pant like a pathetic dog. My eyes unfocused in raving hunger. His cunt drips like thick honey. His dark laugh licks my conscious evilly. I snarl viciously trying to bite, craving the taste of His flesh and blood.
Lightening flashes. His fist wraps in my hair. "I own this," he states absolutely running his free hand over my body. A tender kiss to my chin. An amused lick across my cheek. "Bitch, you're mine." Thunder clashes. His palm strikes my face. "Mind. Body. Soul." Another hard slap. I struggle against my bonds and his grip. As the rain begins he steps away to begin.
His crop licks fire across my breasts. Within moments I lose count and simply devour the pain. My body His canvas to paint. Welts quickly criss cross across my flesh - breasts, ass, back and thighs. His calm, patient demands a chant to my soul. "Surrender... Submit."
I am defiant and refuse to give in. My lust rages. Fury rips through my soul. He refuses to give enough pain to take me down. My punishment controlled and methodical. I am nothing more than His instrument to play. The crop slips between my legs, stroking through the heavy folds. He slowly pushes the tip inside me. Momentarily, I drown in the small pleasure and wait unmoving. I scream in frustration when he refuses to give me more. I fucking need more.
From behind me he whispers, "Beg whore. Plead for mercy." He reaches arrogantly around my waist to spread my lips wide and tempt my throbbing clit with the night air. So close. My hips buck to no avail. He pulls the crop from His juicy cunt and drags the leather tongue across my hard clit. The barest touch nearly enough. "Give in, bitch."
Swallowing my first sob, I whisper my offer, "Not until you give me your rage and let me feel your fury."
~DominaKat
Vicious Hungry Madness
No yield.
No surrender.
Take if you dare.
I'm not an obedient pet.
I'm not a sweet girl.
I am a vicious fucking animal.
In need of pain.
In need of dick.
Hard nipples.
Dripping cunt.
Spread ass cheeks.
Ream.
Dig in.
Rape.
I'm not a pathetic victim.
I'm not a helpless lamb.
I am fucking hungry.
For sweet pain.
A crop's lashes.
A palm's slap.
A fist's punch.
A flogger's kiss.
For filling.
Driving fingers.
Spreading hands.
Wicked tongues.
Hard pulsing cocks.
Give.
It.
ALL.
To me.
I am insatiable.
I am pure sin.
I am your heaven and hell.
Bring it to me!
I will devour all you can give.
Swallow every drop.
Bring your harshest demands.
I will conquer them all.
Coat them in my hot. slick juices.
Bring your eager fucking friends.
I will sate their most deviant desires.
They will beg for more.
Invite strangers to indulge.
I am simply a set of mindless fuck holes.
Let them feed my never-ending appetite.
My open lips drool.
My heavy breasts heave.
My warm thighs spread in abandon.
Take me.
Make me.
Break me.
A nasty whore.
A corrupt, dirty slut.
An rutting animal in heat.
I won't be gentle.
Your skin will feel the bite of my nails.
I won't be kind.
Your ears will roar with my dirty promises.
I won't be tame.
Your body will ache from my wildness.
I was born to fuck.
I was meant for use.
I was destine for violence.
Feed my madness.
Sate my hunger.
Exhaust my vicious needs.
If you fucking dare.
~DominaKat
No surrender.
Take if you dare.
I'm not an obedient pet.
I'm not a sweet girl.
I am a vicious fucking animal.
In need of pain.
In need of dick.
Hard nipples.
Dripping cunt.
Spread ass cheeks.
Ream.
Dig in.
Rape.
I'm not a pathetic victim.
I'm not a helpless lamb.
I am fucking hungry.
For sweet pain.
A crop's lashes.
A palm's slap.
A fist's punch.
A flogger's kiss.
For filling.
Driving fingers.
Spreading hands.
Wicked tongues.
Hard pulsing cocks.
Give.
It.
ALL.
To me.
I am insatiable.
I am pure sin.
I am your heaven and hell.
Bring it to me!
I will devour all you can give.
Swallow every drop.
Bring your harshest demands.
I will conquer them all.
Coat them in my hot. slick juices.
Bring your eager fucking friends.
I will sate their most deviant desires.
They will beg for more.
Invite strangers to indulge.
I am simply a set of mindless fuck holes.
Let them feed my never-ending appetite.
My open lips drool.
My heavy breasts heave.
My warm thighs spread in abandon.
Take me.
Make me.
Break me.
A nasty whore.
A corrupt, dirty slut.
An rutting animal in heat.
I won't be gentle.
Your skin will feel the bite of my nails.
I won't be kind.
Your ears will roar with my dirty promises.
I won't be tame.
Your body will ache from my wildness.
I was born to fuck.
I was meant for use.
I was destine for violence.
Feed my madness.
Sate my hunger.
Exhaust my vicious needs.
If you fucking dare.
~DominaKat
Friday, September 21, 2012
Bruises & Tears
More and more.
When I fall down.
I reach for Daddy.
To tend to my bruises.
To wipe my tears.
I seek His comfort.
I take shelter in His warmth.
I cling to His strength.
His presence.
Is all I need.
To heal.
He makes my bruises fade.
He dries my tears.
I need my Daddy now.
Sleep won't come.
My pain won't abate.
I want to surrender.
I ache to let go.
I am afraid.
Only Daddy.
Can make it better.
Until then...
The bruises I'll carry.
I'll hold back the tears I can't let fall.
~DominaKat
~DominaKat
Monday, September 10, 2012
I Am NOT Cool. I am monogamous. ~GASP~
A bit of a rant, but I'm about tired of the righteous poly parade. ~eye roll~ Please note that for the purpose of this post I am defining poly as multiple relationships rather and not including swinging.
Nope. I'm not cool. Not at all. I'm NOT poly. Not in any way, shape, or form. That's not how I work emotionally, mentally, or physically. I am monogamous. ~GASP~ There I've said it.
I've seen the forum posts. I've seen the lovely sets of poly rules everyone is listing out and loving all over Fet. What the fuck ever. Know yourself, be honest, communicate...blah, blah, blah. Ummmm...hello...That's the SAME for ANY relationship. Why the fanatic poly-practicers get to jump up and down waving their honesty flag doesn't make a damn bit of sense to me. That shit is common sense you should have learned in elementary school, so news flash to the poly parade...you aren't the ONLY people in the world to be honest and open. ~sigh~
Don't get me wrong. I get why poly and open relationships happen/evolve. I can see how - if you can get everyone to play by the rules - it can be an amazing dynamic. I know some amazing people who are genuinely polyamorous. My hat's off to them and their challenges. However, I also know some that are just liars and selfish children going I want, I want, I want. Those types give poly a bad name and everyone around them a headache. I don't enjoy headaches.
But back to me being not cool...
Before I start getting hate mail, let me just say I have been in both a poly and open situations. Yet even then the poly and open tended to be emphasized or limited to my partner's side. And yes, I managed actually pretty well when things followed the basic rules of open and honesty. I'm a strong woman. However, sharing my body, mind, and soul with multiple partners is not where or how I thrive. Personally, even as a single woman I don't even enjoy several simultaneous relationships because to me it's just too much damn upkeep. How can this be?!? Well, I don't have the need to fracture myself into multiple pieces in order to have a complicated laundry list of personal needs met. I'm also not an attention whore, nor do I need relationships with multiple people in order to know my place in the world and feel validated. I'm simple. There. I said THAT too.
I need one Man. That's it. I don't need two. I don't need two guys and a girl. One is quite enough for me, but ONLY if he's the right Man. Of course, I do mean the right Man for me. I don't need three broken dudes and two needy girls in order to satisfy me completely and find peace and love in the world.
I need one Man to nurture me, cherish me, hold me, fuck me, love me.
I need one Man to build together an emotional, mental, and physical relationship.
I need one Man to care for, stand by, be His soft spot, be His whore, be His love.
Do I realize this is RARE? FUCK YES! I am rare. lol That isn't a problem for me. Few men or women can be monogamous. But love is rare as well. The social norm isn't love but like, which can only bring satisfaction with a lot of other like with others. I'd rather be alone than settle for just like because I am okay with being alone. ~another gasp~ What a concept, huh?
I'll say it again. I only want and need ONE man. I am NATURALLY at my best when I have a narrow focus as His slave, pet, babygirl. And yes...M is the right man for me. I didn't have a indoctrinated religious background. I'm not a brain washed, moral conservative. And trust me...I've never been swayed by social norms. lol
I am simply at my best when I can give the man I love my undivided loyalty, emotions, service, trust, body, etc, etc, etc. It does not make sense to ME to split my attention between multiple partners and somehow be able to give them my best. How does that make sense if I LOVE them to give them less than all of me? How is that even possible? Yes...I know there are a shit ton of you out there waving your flags...it is! It is possible! But to ME...It would be like having 3 jobs. Do people pursue multiple careers in different fields and succeed? Not often and not with much success. So to me it doesn't make sense why pursuing multiple relationships and scattering my valuable efforts has any chance of satisfaction or success. At any given point one takes on the most urgency and the others suffer. It seems like never ending pointless cycle of constant failure or disappointment.
Not only do my partners suffer, but I simply don't enjoy multiple simultaneous partners. My own enjoyment is dampened in the chaos of this for him and that for her. By giving my all to One, I am at peace and centered. Well, let's be practical...most of the time anyway. lol When there is trust, I can open myself completely. There's a beautiful simple freedom in that act like I've never known. And THAT satisfies me more than any pieced together group of lots of liking. ~shrug~
So in closing...Your kink is NOT my kink, and you're no better than me or anyone else. So why don't you just do you and gracefully enjoy your own dynamic without calling for a parade or tossing judgement at us unnatural, must-be-brainwashed, monogamous throw backs. I really don't care what you do. I'm just tired of your kink being stuffed down my throat every time I'm in kinkland. Let the bashing begin! lol
~DominaKat
Nope. I'm not cool. Not at all. I'm NOT poly. Not in any way, shape, or form. That's not how I work emotionally, mentally, or physically. I am monogamous. ~GASP~ There I've said it.
I've seen the forum posts. I've seen the lovely sets of poly rules everyone is listing out and loving all over Fet. What the fuck ever. Know yourself, be honest, communicate...blah, blah, blah. Ummmm...hello...That's the SAME for ANY relationship. Why the fanatic poly-practicers get to jump up and down waving their honesty flag doesn't make a damn bit of sense to me. That shit is common sense you should have learned in elementary school, so news flash to the poly parade...you aren't the ONLY people in the world to be honest and open. ~sigh~
Don't get me wrong. I get why poly and open relationships happen/evolve. I can see how - if you can get everyone to play by the rules - it can be an amazing dynamic. I know some amazing people who are genuinely polyamorous. My hat's off to them and their challenges. However, I also know some that are just liars and selfish children going I want, I want, I want. Those types give poly a bad name and everyone around them a headache. I don't enjoy headaches.
But back to me being not cool...
Before I start getting hate mail, let me just say I have been in both a poly and open situations. Yet even then the poly and open tended to be emphasized or limited to my partner's side. And yes, I managed actually pretty well when things followed the basic rules of open and honesty. I'm a strong woman. However, sharing my body, mind, and soul with multiple partners is not where or how I thrive. Personally, even as a single woman I don't even enjoy several simultaneous relationships because to me it's just too much damn upkeep. How can this be?!? Well, I don't have the need to fracture myself into multiple pieces in order to have a complicated laundry list of personal needs met. I'm also not an attention whore, nor do I need relationships with multiple people in order to know my place in the world and feel validated. I'm simple. There. I said THAT too.
I need one Man. That's it. I don't need two. I don't need two guys and a girl. One is quite enough for me, but ONLY if he's the right Man. Of course, I do mean the right Man for me. I don't need three broken dudes and two needy girls in order to satisfy me completely and find peace and love in the world.
I need one Man to nurture me, cherish me, hold me, fuck me, love me.
I need one Man to build together an emotional, mental, and physical relationship.
I need one Man to care for, stand by, be His soft spot, be His whore, be His love.
Do I realize this is RARE? FUCK YES! I am rare. lol That isn't a problem for me. Few men or women can be monogamous. But love is rare as well. The social norm isn't love but like, which can only bring satisfaction with a lot of other like with others. I'd rather be alone than settle for just like because I am okay with being alone. ~another gasp~ What a concept, huh?
I'll say it again. I only want and need ONE man. I am NATURALLY at my best when I have a narrow focus as His slave, pet, babygirl. And yes...M is the right man for me. I didn't have a indoctrinated religious background. I'm not a brain washed, moral conservative. And trust me...I've never been swayed by social norms. lol
I am simply at my best when I can give the man I love my undivided loyalty, emotions, service, trust, body, etc, etc, etc. It does not make sense to ME to split my attention between multiple partners and somehow be able to give them my best. How does that make sense if I LOVE them to give them less than all of me? How is that even possible? Yes...I know there are a shit ton of you out there waving your flags...it is! It is possible! But to ME...It would be like having 3 jobs. Do people pursue multiple careers in different fields and succeed? Not often and not with much success. So to me it doesn't make sense why pursuing multiple relationships and scattering my valuable efforts has any chance of satisfaction or success. At any given point one takes on the most urgency and the others suffer. It seems like never ending pointless cycle of constant failure or disappointment.
Not only do my partners suffer, but I simply don't enjoy multiple simultaneous partners. My own enjoyment is dampened in the chaos of this for him and that for her. By giving my all to One, I am at peace and centered. Well, let's be practical...most of the time anyway. lol When there is trust, I can open myself completely. There's a beautiful simple freedom in that act like I've never known. And THAT satisfies me more than any pieced together group of lots of liking. ~shrug~
So in closing...Your kink is NOT my kink, and you're no better than me or anyone else. So why don't you just do you and gracefully enjoy your own dynamic without calling for a parade or tossing judgement at us unnatural, must-be-brainwashed, monogamous throw backs. I really don't care what you do. I'm just tired of your kink being stuffed down my throat every time I'm in kinkland. Let the bashing begin! lol
~DominaKat
Thursday, September 6, 2012
What is my submission?
I don't believe submission is a passive role, mindset, or activity. While submission can only exists where dominance is alive, I do believe the s-part of the equation must be an equal and active participant in the dynamic. My submission isn't simply His responsibility it is mine as well.
I do my very best to...
Ni' night. ;-)
~DominaKat
I do my very best to...
Place Him above of me. His wants, needs, desires are my focus to give and fulfill unselfishly.This list is only the beginning for me. I'll continue to add. For now, I simply wanted a place to focus.
Discover and accept all that is Him - the good, the bad, the amazing, the difficult, the beautiful, and the messy. He is still human after all.
Respect and cherish all that He does for Us and me.
Learn and understand my place in His eyes, so that I am never far from the path He chooses for me to follow.
Hold tightly to the hand that guides me and place my faith in Him.
Support His choices, circumstances, challenges, and successes.
Be brave and let go of my past, treasure Our today, and honor Our potential.
Be willing to grow under His nurturing.
Consciously seek to improve my submission and my understanding of myself, so that I can be the best I can be for Him.
Actively and openly communicate my physical, mental, and emotional state, so He can make appropriate choices for Himself, Us, and me.
Be honest in all things, so there are no secrets to erode Our foundation of trust.
Accept and relish the pleasure and pain He chooses to share with me.
Ni' night. ;-)
~DominaKat
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
A Lioness' Lair
Standing. Sitting. Kneeling. At His feet. Standing again. Swaying. At His Feet. I've been all over the place the last couple of weeks. My need for Him. My responsibilities. My strength rising to fight and protect. ~sigh~ My submission has nonetheless been a struggle to maintain, to feel, and to embrace.
Each day brings M and I closer, which settles a HUGE piece of me. My mind is clearer. My heart is lighter. My body no longer tense with anxiety. Yet...I'm not where I'm used to being right before I see Him. I sought why tonight, and quickly tossed out the little things. No...it's not those. It's this big step.
M - my Daddy - is coming here.
For me.
I will open my door to someone new for the first time in over six years. During this period, I've culled my life of time wasters and weak acquaintances, choosing instead to hold my most tender pieces close and private away from prying eyes. Here is what I nurture most and what I cherish. Within my beautiful small sanctuary I've finally healed some of my deepest wounds.
This weekend I will have a Man I love and trust in my bed and my home for the first time in 20 years. "Really?" you ask? For the first 10 years of my adult life, very little was mine. There was simply the home I shared with the guy I was married to at the time. My presence on my surroundings were negligent. None of it was ever mine. Nor did I ever truly love or even trust the person I slept beside at night. After the divorce...I focused on my career and parenting. There was no one in my life, and then...those six years of healing I mentioned.
lol Yes. I know. I'm not your average person. However, this little corner of the world is me. Most can't relate at all to the thick walls I built around me. It seems completely foreign. ~shrug~ Oh well...you live your life. I live mine.
My inner most sanctuary is an honor few gain. I am not careless with who I let in my home. I've never played silly house fantasies with boys, "Oh let me cook for you!" bullshit. I've never treated my home like a brothel for fucks, a bar for fools, or a casual hangout for random users. No. My home is just that. My home. For better or worse, it is the only place where I lower my guard completely.
Tonight I realized why my submission is quietly waiting in the wings right now. I can't open the door to my life on my knees. Not in this. I have to own it. All of me. Kat. This isn't his babygirl curling up on Daddy's lap or his pet begging at His feet or the whore surrendering to His will. I will no doubt do all of those things in my home with Him. However the first step has to be Kat - everything that I am - choosing to let in the Man who holds my heart. When I welcome M to my home, I'll look him in the eye and know he truly sees me.
I must stand tall and proud of what I've held on to, of what I've been given, and of what I've built. That will not be in defiance, but in honor all that He has done. He's earned this privilege because of His character, His loyalty, and His strength. He has taught me how to love again and how to hope. I am not a helpless lamb seeking comfort and protection, but a strong lioness sharing her lair and her hunt.
~DominaKat
Each day brings M and I closer, which settles a HUGE piece of me. My mind is clearer. My heart is lighter. My body no longer tense with anxiety. Yet...I'm not where I'm used to being right before I see Him. I sought why tonight, and quickly tossed out the little things. No...it's not those. It's this big step.
M - my Daddy - is coming here.
For me.
I will open my door to someone new for the first time in over six years. During this period, I've culled my life of time wasters and weak acquaintances, choosing instead to hold my most tender pieces close and private away from prying eyes. Here is what I nurture most and what I cherish. Within my beautiful small sanctuary I've finally healed some of my deepest wounds.
This weekend I will have a Man I love and trust in my bed and my home for the first time in 20 years. "Really?" you ask? For the first 10 years of my adult life, very little was mine. There was simply the home I shared with the guy I was married to at the time. My presence on my surroundings were negligent. None of it was ever mine. Nor did I ever truly love or even trust the person I slept beside at night. After the divorce...I focused on my career and parenting. There was no one in my life, and then...those six years of healing I mentioned.
lol Yes. I know. I'm not your average person. However, this little corner of the world is me. Most can't relate at all to the thick walls I built around me. It seems completely foreign. ~shrug~ Oh well...you live your life. I live mine.
My inner most sanctuary is an honor few gain. I am not careless with who I let in my home. I've never played silly house fantasies with boys, "Oh let me cook for you!" bullshit. I've never treated my home like a brothel for fucks, a bar for fools, or a casual hangout for random users. No. My home is just that. My home. For better or worse, it is the only place where I lower my guard completely.
Tonight I realized why my submission is quietly waiting in the wings right now. I can't open the door to my life on my knees. Not in this. I have to own it. All of me. Kat. This isn't his babygirl curling up on Daddy's lap or his pet begging at His feet or the whore surrendering to His will. I will no doubt do all of those things in my home with Him. However the first step has to be Kat - everything that I am - choosing to let in the Man who holds my heart. When I welcome M to my home, I'll look him in the eye and know he truly sees me.
I must stand tall and proud of what I've held on to, of what I've been given, and of what I've built. That will not be in defiance, but in honor all that He has done. He's earned this privilege because of His character, His loyalty, and His strength. He has taught me how to love again and how to hope. I am not a helpless lamb seeking comfort and protection, but a strong lioness sharing her lair and her hunt.
~DominaKat
Monday, September 3, 2012
My BDSM Fairy Tale
Since I was a child, I've been extremely careful about who I let into my life and who I let truly see me. When I made my first steps in my journey, I quickly realized how extremely intimate D/s is and how vulnerable I would be. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. I'm not a surface player that simply rides the momentary high of physical sensation. In order for me to satisfy the cravings and needs I have, I must go deep with someone. Very deep.
The depth of my physical, mental, and emotional desires aren't for the casual or the frivolous. They aren't for someone more interested in sprints and notches on bedposts. They aren't for non-committal internet doms content to play on the other end of the phone line or a web cam. They aren't for manwhores that spend more time and energy on endless chases than on one ultimate prize. I'm very aware that my self-imposed...rules alienate me from a majority of the BDSM world. Most don't understand me or why I take things so seriously, and their recklessness and carelessness often times mystifies me. From the beginning my goal, which I pretty much believed was unattainable, was to find someone who shared a similar view on the intimacies of BDSM. Because if he was careless in who he choose, how could I possibly be of any value?
For me...
If you're shaking your head in confusion...trust me, save us both the annoyance. Go back to your perving and masturbation session to skin pics, dirty IM's, and live web cams. I will never make any sense to you, which is more than okay with me.
~DominaKat
The depth of my physical, mental, and emotional desires aren't for the casual or the frivolous. They aren't for someone more interested in sprints and notches on bedposts. They aren't for non-committal internet doms content to play on the other end of the phone line or a web cam. They aren't for manwhores that spend more time and energy on endless chases than on one ultimate prize. I'm very aware that my self-imposed...rules alienate me from a majority of the BDSM world. Most don't understand me or why I take things so seriously, and their recklessness and carelessness often times mystifies me. From the beginning my goal, which I pretty much believed was unattainable, was to find someone who shared a similar view on the intimacies of BDSM. Because if he was careless in who he choose, how could I possibly be of any value?
For me...
I have to know that the Man who calls me a slut, a whore, or a fucktoy values all of me not just the tricks I can and will perform in the bedroom.
I have to know that the Man who rips orgasms from my body will touch more than my skin but my mind and heart as well.
I have to know that the Man who wraps His hand around my throat and lays his hands violently on me understands it takes more than physicality to tame me and that my safety is of the utmost importance to Him.
I have to trust that the Man who weilds that crop/flogger/paddle will see past the pretty red marks and be able to manipulate my passion with confidence, consideration, and hunger.
I have to trust that the Man who blesses me with sweet dark pain will treasure and honor my tears and pleas and not abandon me carelessly.
I have to trust that the Man who humiliates me and pushes me to madness will be my Anchor and guide me safely back to the warmth and comfort of His arms.
I have to believe with all that I am that the Man who demands my submission is One I can honor, respect, and count on to lead me on this journey.
I have to believe with all that I am that the Man who commands me to lie helpless at His feet truly wants all of me and not simply a moment of me.Maybe deep down inside I really am just a silly little girl looking for fairy tales and bedtime stories after all of these years. ~shrug~ But for more than a decade now, I promised myself never again to settle for less than I deserve. I'd rather go to bed alone at night waiting on a dream than die of thirst trying to drink from a mirage.
I have to believe with all that I am that the Man who claims my soul values that gift above all others and that I am the only one He craves to Own.
If you're shaking your head in confusion...trust me, save us both the annoyance. Go back to your perving and masturbation session to skin pics, dirty IM's, and live web cams. I will never make any sense to you, which is more than okay with me.
~DominaKat
Saturday, September 1, 2012
The Challenge of Me
I am a....floater. I don't bond with large groups for my identity and become assimilated into the collective. Quite honestly I don't nor have I ever quite fit in. This has never bothered me. However what has always confused me is why this flexibility always seems to agitate the fuck out of others. It's often their excuse to doubt my knowledge or interest, disregard my recommendations or comments, or even shun me entirely.
~DominaKat
The city dwellers think I'm too country with my love of four-wheel drive, four wheelers, playing in the woods and love of Nascar, but country folks don't understand my love of fine wines, funky cheeses, high heels, or art and let's not even mention my eclectic musical taste.I am a misfit, and I don't care. I long ago as a child accepted that I was not like the rest. I can function well in a variety of situations, but I'm not much of a die hard anything. Why? Because one "thing" never satisfies ALL of me completely. I've never felt the need to change who and what I am so that I could fit in and be accepted by the big groups of sheep. That's not where or how I find peace. I find my peace in being true to me, being authentic, being all that I can around those that do love all that I am.
The liberals don't like my stance on gun rights, yet the conservatives hate when I tell them they have no right to control my body and that I think their "boys" are greedy pigs.
The fashionistas despise my camo and work boots. Though the tom boys don't understand my short skirts, how I walk in those heels or how much I prefer to spend on my hair.
The techie geeks don't respect that I can handle most power tools and understand how an engine works, but the typical grease monkey stares at me in wonder when I rapidly click-click-click and solve their software issue and shove me into the dork category.
Materialists and those with money don't understand how I'm more content with less. Yet those with nothing don't understand my need to do something with myself.
White people can't comprehend my acceptance of other cultures. Minorities see me as a white girl who can't possibly understand.
Those on the "right side of the tracks" can't fathom my serenity with simple and realistic. When living in the hood/war zone, most looked at me with puzzlement and distrust because I'm not getting high, drinking 40s, or have a parade of bed filling my bed.
The vanilla are scared as hell of my sexuality..."I don't want to know." But the kink world is practically intolerant and incredulous that I'm able to keep my legs closed physically and my emotions uncompromised to be monogamous. ~gasp~ I'm not a silly, frivolous attention whore. ~eye roll~
Women don't understand me because I don't need just any man and can simply be alone. They put their noses in the air because I don't gossip, play dumb girl games or concern myself with the fine details of useless woman shit.
Men run from my intelligence and straight forward attitude. They'd love to have me as a fuck every chance they get, yet I've rarely been someone they wanted to spend the rest of their lives with. My strength has somehow always made me a better mistress than someone they bring home to family.
The sci-fi and fantasy dorks would admire my book collection but be wounded that I don't crave going back to mediaeval times. Then the feminists are appalled at my raw submission to my Man.
The jocks and preps don't have any capacity to deal with me nor I with them as I have better things to do than drink and watch ESPN. The artsy and music folks don't understand how I can admire their work and not jump at the chance to get high.
The soccer mom's are horrified at my real-world, parenting approach and my lack of catering to nonsense. The trainwreck moms don't understand my integrity or love.
~DominaKat
His Lioness
Respect.
Consideration.
Honor.
Those are what I give Him.
Those are what He deserves.
Anything less is unacceptable.
I love Him.
I will protect Him.
I will fight for Him.
I am His Lioness.
Not a silly lamb.
Not a fragile dove.
I will spit and hiss.
Claw and roar.
In my defense of Him.
I will not curl in a ball in self protection.
I will not whimper or be silent in fear.
I will be at His side.
He holds my leash.
He has tamed me.
No one else.
~DominaKat
Consideration.
Honor.
Those are what I give Him.
Those are what He deserves.
Anything less is unacceptable.
I love Him.
I will protect Him.
I will fight for Him.
I am His Lioness.
Not a silly lamb.
Not a fragile dove.
I will spit and hiss.
Claw and roar.
In my defense of Him.
I will not curl in a ball in self protection.
I will not whimper or be silent in fear.
I will be at His side.
He holds my leash.
He has tamed me.
No one else.
~DominaKat
My Place
Struggling.
To find my center.
Peace.
Just beyond reach.
Can see.
But can't touch.
The ache.
It numbs.
So weary.
I need to rest.
Let go.
At His feet.
To not be strong.
But helpless.
In His embrace.
To not shiver.
Cocooned.
In love's warm shelter.
My place.
There.
Please.
Security.
My place.
To know.
Absolutely.
I belong.
The numb.
Sinks deeper.
Bone crushing.
Endless.
Tears no longer fall.
Trapped.
Frozen.
Waiting for release.
A day.
A night.
An hour.
A moment.
To once again.
Share that hope.
That sparks between us.
To abandon ourselves.
In the passion.
That flames around us.
My place.
In His light.
In His dark.
As His.
My place.
To give.
To receive.
Be His.
~DominaKat
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