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

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

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

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...
Place Him above of me.  His wants, needs, desires are my focus to give and fulfill unselfishly.

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.
This list is only the beginning for me.  I'll continue to add.  For now, I simply wanted a place to focus.

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

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...
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.

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.
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.

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.
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.

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.
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.
~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

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