Good Morning

My thighs are sweet and slick.
Coated in my sugar.

I came hard and juicy.

A touch.
A rub.
A pinch.

Fingers delve deep.
A toy slips into my aching fuckhole.

I'm a greedy slut in the morning.

I want to cum.
Again and again.

I want to wake up reminded of my role.

Little Girl.
Slut.
Whore.

My thighs spread eagerly.
The need so overwhelming.

Take.
Take.
Take.

So soft and wet.
My sweet whimpers.
My hot sucking cunt.

Please...
Yes...please...

Stretched.
Filled.
Reamed.

My back arches.
My cries echo.
A stream of juice squirts violently between my thighs.

Oh fuck yes...I love to cum in the morning.
~A Momentarily Sated Lioness

About Me

I'm 5' 11", thick, curvy, and I love to fuck. Kinky. Naughty. Dirty. I love the energy and dynamics of BDSM. I enjoy a variety of roles. However, I have limitations to what BDSM activities I can share without the foundation of a serious and intimate relationship.  In other words, just because you see it listed as a fetish, don't expect me to give it to you carelessly.  I value and respect myself - mind, body, and spirit - and do my best (yes, I occasionally fuck that up lol) to honor who I am and those I care for.

Ultimately I search for a true, loving Daddy, Dom, and Master who would love, protect and appreciate me.  However I accept and realize that the dynamics of those roles take time and effort as well as mutual respect, trust, and consideration to build. For now, I want to find play partners that will inspire, tempt, and challenge me. I seek to explore all that I am - all that I could be - with others of quality, character, honesty, and integrity.

While I respect the privacy and boundaries of others, full disclosure of who we play with and the relationship framework that you have with them is mandatory - no exceptions.  How you choose to handle others is your decision, but I have a zero tolerance policy.  If you break that trust...you are gone. I'm not interested in lies, games, carelessness, or drama. If you can't be an adult, be honest, and be respectful of me...stick to other shallow cowards like yourself who lie and steal from those around them. You'll get what you deserve.

Whether we play for a moment, a month, or years, I don't fuck around on my pets, my friends, or my lovers.  I will tell you who I am involved with, when I play, and the framework we play under.  As with almost every relationship - whether casual, friends, or serious - there may come a time when the choices we make are no longer compatible with either your expectations or mine. However with open, honest communication we should be able to maintain the warm feelings that brought us together in the first place as we go our separate ways in our journey.

Maybe all of that is asking a lot. But I'm worth it. ;-)
~Kat

A Cumming Out Party?

In the mindset of moving on and past the games of the last year, I've been assessing strategies for finding what I want and need.   Considering my switchy-ness as well as broad range of interests and curiosities, it's pretty likely I'll need to get out and about to satisfy my desires.

To date I really haven't gotten involved with any of the local community events.  I've taken note of them, but in my attempt not to upset the apple cart the last year (no one told me the fucking mules were dead and the apples rotting in the back...I know...I know...) I haven't pursued attendance.  Currently my view is quite different, and I'm evaluating each opportunity to determine if it's a fit for what I hope to experience and find.

The one I'm looking forward to the most is Club Princeton.  I have to indulge in this bit of delicious wickedness before the end of the year.  And it looks as though this is going to line up perfectly with my first "Cougar Party."  lol  Poor Maximus... ;-)

Another direction I'm going in is the scene in Pitt, which seems to be a little more my style and more populated.  There seems to be several munch groups, but I'm still unclear on the play party aspect.  However my plan is early next year to start getting to know my PA neighbors in person a bit and see where things lead.

And finally...the swinging scene.  I've been on the outside looking in for several weeks now.  I've talked to some people.  Some...not cool.  A bit too cold and pushy for my taste.  However, some...very, very warm people.  In fact I've been invited as a guest to a play party on Saturday.  I could go and just see what's to see, watch how things work.  I could go and just play with the very nice couple that invited me.  Or I could indulge in my first orgy and let others physically overwhelm me in sensation.  For a moment turn off the mental and emotional and simply let others take.

I'm torn.

Part of me wants to erase him as he's so easily erased me - to physically erase the value of what I gave away to someone I loved but who lied and played games in order to steal what he didn't deserve.  He doesn't deserve the honor he was given.  I wish I could somehow take it fucking back.

The other part of me wants to wait and share a swinging party-fest with a true friend, lover and partner who would ground me.  I want a Dom/Master/Daddy by my side whose shared experience would amplify mine and whose loving arms would hold me after it was all over and keep me warm through the night.

So...am I a true slut?  Or an idealist kinky fool?  lol

Ahhhhh...yes, the fool again.  I'll sit on the sidelines and honor who and what I am.  I know what I want and what I deserve.  I've already taken the necessary steps not to settle for crumbs, leftovers, and scraps from a man I genuinely loved.  I won't backtrack on myself now.  I'll continue on this road and be true to me.

There's plenty of other opportunities I have to explore...I will meet the very warm couple this weekend, and possibly soon I'll meet the potential male submissive I've been considering for the last month or so to determine if play time with him could satisfy some of my Domme's restlessness.  ;-)

All that should keep me plenty busy for a minute.  lol
~Kat

100...No...50 Things About Me

Saw this floating around.  Needed to keep things simple for a moment.  The expectation was 100, but I ran out of steam at 50.
~Kat

1. I'm 5' 11" and thick.
2. I'm recently single.  Though I've been single in a practical sense since 2003.
3. I hate lies, games, and dishonesty.
4. My favorite color is purple.
5. I've been in the lifestyle about a year.  Though I harbored dark kinky fantasies since my teens.
6. I have an insatiable sex drive when I'm inspired.
7. I own an '88 Ford Mustang GT, and YES, I know how to drive a stick.
8. I'd rather work on a car than go to the spa.
9. I am absolutely loyal to those I love and consider my true friends.
10. My heart is monogamous.
11. I'm a giver once I invest myself in someone.
12. I've been accused of being too passionate and feeling too deeply.  But I'd rather be that thana  careless, surface-level, chit chatty, fake social twit.
13. I'd be a shoe whore if I could.
14. I am an Alpha Bitch and will not sub to another woman.
15. My kink-of-choice depends on my partner and circumstances.
16. I've only loved twice.
17. I don't own a TV or have cable.  There's better things for me to do than consume garbage.
18. I'm a decent travel companion.
19. I hope somehow to have a sports bike next year for my 40th.
20. I've only recently discovered the little girl in me.  Had to put her away for now though.  She got roughed up pretty bad on her first bit of freedom.
21. I'd rather go to Home Depot than Sak's.
22. My favorite city is New Orleans, quickly followed by NYC.
23. I'm unrealistic and want a hero, but I know those are a myth.
24. I can't do poly D/S relationships.  It doesn't make sense to me.  Play partners...fine.  More than that...find someone who doesn't care anything about what you do.  That should work well for you.
25. I've known my best friend 23 years.  He's my rock, and I'd kill or die for him.
26. I sometimes foolishly keep trying even when all hope is lost.
27. 99% of the time, I keep my various lives completely separate from one another.
28. I have an Akita and share another.
29. I hate mini-vans.
30. I hate shopping.
31. From toe to toe is 86 inches.  Yes, that's over 7 feet.
32. I enjoy a good 9 mm.
33. I'm learning how to throw a whip.
34. I have 3 very sexy throwing knives.
35. I'm brutally honest and not always the best with tact.
36. I'm pretty damn good with situational mathematics.
37. I hate to fail.
38. I like to give and receive a bit of pain.
39. I'm in the mood to deliver pain lately.
40. I'm not a social butterfly.
41. I'm a speed (mph) junkie.
42. A part of me is completely fucking shattered right now.
43. I'm not a big drinker, but I prefer vodka.
44. I've never been out of the country.
45. I rather be alone than miserable with someone.
46. I love music.
47. I'm a procrastinator.
48. I hate paperwork.
49. I'd love to learn to sculpt.
50. I wish I didn't miss him.

Stage 1 Stalker

~ sigh ~  It's official.  I now have my second Stage 1 stalker.  Though this one does make me a bit more nervous than my first.  Blatantly ignoring basic English and direct statements.  I tried to be straight forward and polite.  Looks like that's not going to work, and I need to add in a bit of bitch.

Lesson here guys...Just because you may have an 8 inch cock does not make you impressive or desirable.
~Domina

A Lover's Pride

I was driving a dark road tonight, trying to escape my thoughts, my frustrations, and my pain.  The headlights cut through the night.  As I followed the path in front of me, I followed the various skipping stones in my head from one truth to another, from one realization to a theory to a possibility to a dead end and backtracking to a different possibility.  What I want.  What I don't want.  What I need.  What I can do without.  Working the puzzle that is me today.  I finally found the simplicity I'd been trying to find for probably 30 of my almost 40 years.

I want a Man I can be proud of.

That's it.  So simple.  It articulated everything I felt so fucking beautifully that I was momentarily stunned when it first crossed my mind.

First, notice the "I" there.  Everyone will have their assessment of what to be proud of and what  not.  For me, this isn't about appearance or money or job status or even perfection.  This isn't about all day, every day.  We all make mistakes.  It's about the sum of that person.  His character.  Who he is, and what he's about.

This isn't about moments either.  Moments don't make character.  A long string of moments...yes, those do.

I've been in four relationships in my life.  The fleeting others that may have floated temporarily across my path made little to no dramatic impact.  Honestly, of the four, there's only one I was proud of and am still proud of.  That was a lifetime ago.  However when I realized tonight what I've been struggling to define I immediately remembered what it was like to be proud of my man.  To be proud to be standing next to him.  To be proud to be considered his.  At the same time, I want My Man to be proud of me, proud to be with me, and proud that he is mine.  In my eyes, without that mutual, core respect and admiration...there is nothing.  Looking back, this likely sums up the major conflicts I held in other relationships.

I could not be proud of a man who lies and has no honor.
I could not be proud of a man that even those closest to him consider a whore.
I could not be proud of a man who's word means nothing as tomorrow he'll change his mind.
I could not be proud of a man who fails to be responsible for his actions.
I could not be proud of a man who chooses to hide in denial rather than face truth.
I could not be proud of a man who bullies and uses fear to accomplish his goals.

I could go on, but really this is about who I want in my life tomorrow.  Going forward, the standards for me in evaluating a potential partner - a Dom, a Master, a Daddy - will simply be...can I be proud of you?  Am I proud to be yours?  Not just in this moment, but yesterday and tomorrow and the space in between?

Ask yourself as I am as well...what is the sum of you?  What type of person will be proud of you?  What type of person would be proud to be yours?
~Domina

Writing this I'm reminded of something I first ran across on MrMF773's profile.

"He will always be attracted to the woman who reflects his deepest vision of himself, the woman whose surrender permits him to experience -- or to fake -- a sense of self-esteem. The man who is proudly certain of his own value will want the highest type of woman he can find, the woman he admires, the strongest, the hardest to conquer, because only the possession of a heroine will give him the sense of an achievement, not the possession of a brainless slut."
~Ayn Rand

You can read more of the excerpt here.

Profile link and reference posted with permission.  Thank you MrMF.

A Warrior and A Little Girl

I found her in the drizzling rain.  Her head down, soaked to the skin.  Her little Mary Jane's muddy and scuffed.  Her pretty new dress now torn and tattered.  The soft, delicate skin of her knees and hands scrapped and bleeding.  On her pale cheek she still wore the taint mark of a firm, cruel slap.  My sweet, shy little girl.  Sitting so still on the park bench, so fragile.  Battered as she'd never been before.

My fault.  I'd told her it was safe to come out to play.  I took a chance, simply wanting to let her be free and give myself a moment to lay down my guards.  I was foolish and careless.  I knew better, but I let it happen anyway.  I hated that she hurt.  I hated myself more for trusting her safety with a selfish, greedy little boy that didn't understand how to take care of something so beautiful and value the rare gift he'd been given.  My boots quickly covered the last yards separating us. As my feet came to rest in front of her, I watched her take a shaky breath.

"You came back," she whispered.  "I was afraid you weren't going to.  It took so long."

"I'll always come back.  Even if I get lost.  I always find my way back."

She thought about that for a moment before replying.  With a sniffle, she looked up at me with her pale blue eyes shimmering with left over tears.  "Yes, you do.  You always come back to protect me, Domina."  A tear slipped down her cheek, which she hastily brushed away.  "Is he gone?  Did you chase him away."

I ignored the ache inside me.  "Yes.  He's gone, Kitten.  He won't bother you again.  I sent him to play in his best friend's backyard far, far away.  He likes to steal his toys.  It's his favorite little game, and it should keep him busy a long, long time."

She looked back down to the wet ground at our feet.  Her hands clenched in her dress tightly.  "He didn't want to be My Daddy.  He pretended for a little bit.  Got me to say things I'd never said before.  Got me to do things I'd never done before.  But..."  Her voice broke.  Her tears fell.  "He didn't mean it, Domina.  I tried...but he didn't mean it at all."

My heart broke for her.  My guilt sliced through me.  I'd let this happen.  I knelt down beside her and grasped her hands.  "No, Kitten.  He's wasn't and couldn't be your Daddy.  He's just a selfish, greedy, careless little boy that takes everything he can get. He can't be anyone's Daddy because he has no honor or loyalty.  He doesn't do what's right.  He simply does whatever he wants.  That's not a Daddy.  He's not good enough to be your Daddy.  You deserve the best Daddy in the world."

She sighed quietly.  "I know you're right, Domina.  But...but I didn't know how wonderful it might be to have a Daddy and to be free...to not hide away all the time."

I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead onto hers, wishing so much I could find what she so wanted and deserved.  "I know, baby.  I know.  I'll keep trying.  I'll keep looking for a Daddy that deserves you."

She reached up and put her cold, delicate hands around my cheeks.  As she looked at me with her runny nose and tear-stained cheeks, she firmly reminded me of the truth.  "No, Domina.  Someone that deserves us both.  Who deserves a warrior and a little girl."

I laughed just slightly to break the gut-wrenching realization that this sweet little girl loves me so, even though I've failed her so completely. "You are a demanding little thing," I teased, "but you're absolutely right."  I reached up and wiped away the last of her tears with my thumbs.  "It's time to go back inside now, where I can keep you safe."

"I know," she breathed softly.

I stood up and reached for her hand, which she placed trustingly into mine.  She paused looking around at what we had once hoped could have been a happy place for her.  When she stood, she again looked up at me and confessed, "I don't want anyone to see my tears, to know how hurt I am, to see me so messy."

Without hesitation, I squeezed her hand and gave her the truth.  "Your tears are nothing to be ashamed of, Kitten.  They are proof that you loved and loved true.  They are proof that you gave everything you had.  They are a testament to the soft, sweet purity that is you.  This is my failure, baby.  This is his.  Not yours."

She tucked herself against me, "Take me back in, Domina.  I don't want to play anymore.  I just want to rest and let you keep me safe."

"I will, sweet baby.  I promise.  I won't let you down, again."

Together we walked away.  From all that could have been.  From all that should never have been.
~Domina

As with most of what I write, it spins in my head refusing to go away until I let the words have their voice.  Part of me wanted to bury this deep, but I had to be true to my own belief that there is no shame in loving, even when it is foolish and undeserved.  As always, I find my strength and carve out a path to survive.  Maybe someday my little girl will have a safe place to exist in my life, but for now she is hidden away again behind my thick, towering walls - away from silly, cruel games where she can mend her wounds and sorrows in peace.

Lucky Bus Slut - Part II

Part 1 of Writer's Hot Potato

She wet her lips hungrily, opened her mouth and wrapped her lips around that velvety, slick head.  Her tongue lapped at the pre-cum, her presence had inspired.

A quiet growl was her reward.

His hand tightened in her hair and push her head further and further down his cock until her nose was pressed against his belly.  The head pushing at the back of her throat as her tongue stroked along his rod revealed her to be the nasty slut he'd hoped she would be.  Gritting his teeth, trying to hold back he released her.

"Show me what a good slut you can be, Cassie," he whispered.

"Yes, Sir," she panted quietly, attempting to avoid any curious glances back their way.  She devoured his hard cock like a starving wench.  One hand held his base.  The other slipped under his tight nuts to massage and tease.  Silently, she sucked and pulled urging him to the brink of release before she'd pull away and tease his throbbing head with the tip of her tongue.  Then she'd begin anew.  Pushing herself overtop of him until he was fully embedded in her mouth.  Intensity.  Tease.  Intensity.  Tease.

Looking up, she smiled sassily and asked, "Is this how your cum-mute usually goes?"

Before he could think of a suitable response she was on him again.  Her mouth tighter.  Her tongue demanding.

"Yes, suck me hard," he softly growl through his clenched jaw.

She wrapped both of her tiny hands around his dick, jerking him tightly as she sucked hard on his head.  She wanted his hot cream filling her mouth.

"Fuck..." he whispered.

She let go and took him fully into the heat of her mouth.  His first spirt of cum hit her throat.  Then she pulled back enough, so that she could suck his load.  One swallow.  Two.  And finally three.  Her tongue lapped up the excess as she pulled back.

"Did that meet your needs, Sir?" Cassie asked politely.

...Tossing the potato back.

An Answer for Me

As I mentioned in a previous post, Friday I had my answer.  Now, I need to figure out the answer for me.  What I want.  What I need.

I am an extremely sensual, sexual creature.  I refuse to stuff a core piece of me back into a box simply because I was hurt by someone else's carelessness and disregard.  Doing that would only be punishing myself for his poor choices.  I loved.  I gave everything I could.  He didn't want it.  It wasn't important to him.  ~shrug~  There's no shame in that.  I won't further limit myself or hide in the background because of it.

I love to fuck.  Kinky.  Naughty.  Dirty.  I love the energy and dynamics of BDSM.  I enjoy a variety of roles.  While ultimately I likely search for a true, loving Daddy, Dom, and Master...I accept and realize that the dynamics of those roles take time, effort, respect, trust, and caring to build.  For now, I want to find play partners that will inspire, tempt, and challenge me.  I seek to explore all that I am - all that I could be - with others of quality, character, honesty, and integrity.  Maybe that's asking a lot.  But I'm worth it.  ;-)

What I don't want is to repeat my past.  I'm not into hearing lies, playing games, players with multiple profiles, being a victim to someone else's consistent self-denial, avoidance and endless chaotic stream of I-need-to-feel-better-about-myself relationships, or investing the best pieces of me into someone who doesn't appreciate their worth.

I deserve better.
I should expect better.
I will demand better.
~A Lioness Ready to Explore

Kat 101

Post #101...

I'm a naughty, perverted Friend.
If you are loyal and real.

I'm an insatiable Lover.
If you can pique my interest and keep up.

I'm a rebellious, difficult Bitch.
If you can match me.

I'm a dirty Slut.
If you deserve it.

I'm Alpha Bitch of a X-some.
If you can remember your priorities.

I'm a Girlfriend.
If you can be patient and have character.

I'm sweet, wicked Domina.
If you behave and ask nicely.

I'm an obedient, giving Submissive.
If you can inspire that gift.

I'm a greedy Fucktoy.
If you can remember, I'm a woman to value.

I'm a perfect Unicorn.
If you both are easy-going and enjoyable.

I'm a committed, monogamous Partner.
If you are careful, considerate, and love true.

I'm a willing, loyal Slave.
If you can handle the responsibility and possess the strength of character to claim me.

I'm a soft, sweet Little Girl.
If you can earn the wealth of trust needed to be My Daddy.

I'm a nasty, fucking Whore.
If you are the right man.

But I'm Nothing to you.
If you can't be honest and straightforward.
~Naughty Kat

An Answer

Well...it looks as if I have my answer now.  What I expected.  Even though some tiny part of me hoped for something different.  Some last amazing, out-of-the-blue, one in a million Hail Mary to save the day.  But that would have meant I was worth a hell of a lot, and when there's five others to fill in the little gaps where I use to be...  ~shrug~  Really...why go through all that effort or potential sacrifice?  A whore is just a whore.  A friend is just a friend.  Some people can treat theirs as interchangeable, even if I can't.  And besides, when your rule is to play like a champion, risky Hail Marys aren't in your play book.  Just move on to the next game and shrug off the last ending.

The last week has been pretty rough.  I've cried myself to sleep more times than I can count.  Couldn't sleep more than two hours at a time.  Couldn't eat.  The last two days, I've attempted to exhaust myself and lose myself in sheer physical labor.  It's dulled the pain, but not the ache.  And obviously, it hasn't cured the insomnia nor has it created an appetite.  However, the giant knot in my gut that was braced for what I knew couldn't be avoided has finally ebbed.  I guess it helps that I haven't been yelled or screamed at in over a week, when no matter what I did...nothing I could say was right.  lol  I was starting to feel like I was reliving my marriage.

~sigh~

Still lots of shit in my head, but I have my answer.  The rest is simply for me to figure out.
~A Quiet Kat Just Figuring It All Out

Need to Fly

Rough day.
I need to lose myself.
I need to fly.

Pain and sorrow.
Compounded.
One on top of another.

I dance with my tears.
They rise up so swiftly.
I choke the burn down.

I need to fly.
High.
Fast.

Tired.
So tired.
Of losing.

Embrace oblivion.
Where nothing exists.
But the next sweet rush.

I dance with the dark.
It stalks my shadow.
Waiting for my surrender.

I need to fly.
Deep.
Absolute.

Broken pieces.
Shatter even further.
Cut to my soul.

Old wounds broken open.
New ones laid bare.
Punishment for my foolishness.

I dance with the edge.
But cling fast to my fortress.
And embrace my sliver of peace.

I need to fly.
I need to fly.
I need to fly.
~Just Kat Tonight

For a Moment

Wrap you hand around my throat,
And claim my hungry mouth.

Pull my head back and expose my neck.
Your hand in my hair.
Your teeth feasting on my skin.

Spill my fat tits into your hands.
Mold.
Kneed.
Mark me with your touch.

Make me moan.
Make me wet.
Make me feel.

Flick your tongue across my nipples.
I'll arch into the heat of your mouth.
I'll clasp my hands to your head.
Pull you closer.

Lick.
Suck.
Taste.
Nip.

Release the whore in me.
Take me where I need to soar.

Shove your hand under my skirt.
Sink into my hot, wet pussy.
Two fingers.
Three.

Stroke.
Fuck yes.
Stroke a whore's greedy cunt.

Make me forget.
Make me scream my release.
Make me feel.

My pleasure pours across your hand.
Puddles at our feet.
My nails drag down your chest.
My legs tremble.

You push me back against the wall.
"Spread your legs, you sweet bitch."
You kneel at my feet.
And rape me with your tongue.

Through my tender folds your tongue drives.
Up into me to lick at my walls.
You suck my clit.
Your fingers stretch and fill.

You demand.
I helplessly give.
My juice runs down your chin.
As you lap at my cunt.

Make me thaw.
Make me let go.
Make me feel.

A raw kiss.
I taste myself.
I cling to you.
I drown in us.

Your hands at your belt.
My desperate search for your dick.
Thick.  Hard.  Pulsing.
For me.

A slap to my face.
Another brutal kiss.
Twin pinches to my aching nipples.
Rough.  Raw.  Dirty.

Your hand grips my hair.
A firm reminder of my vulnerability.
You tug your belt free.
"Bend over the desk like a good slut."

Shaking in need.
I fall across the smooth surface.
You shove my skirt around my waist.
My full, plump ass bare and exposed.

The first strike lands.
It's heat licks my skin.
The second falls.
It feeds my soul.

Make me hurt.
Make me beg.
Make me feel.

Another.
I lose myself,
To the leather's hot caress.
Another.

I cry out.
As my cunt convulses.
A waterfall of squirt sprays.
As another lick falls.

Between my thighs.
Against my tender, drenched folds.
I'm helpless.
I cum again in tears.

Suddenly the heat of your thighs,
Press firmly against mine.
Your thick shaft burrowing,
Into my greedy, pulsing hole.

My hair firmly gripped.
My back arched.
Your hand tight on my hip.
And your filling me completely.

You take.
Slow, deep, brutal strokes.
You take.
You take.

Make me your whore.
Make me your slut.
Make me fucking feel.

You fuck me dirty.
Hard.
Raw.
Absolutely.

A thumb in my ass.
A tease.
A promise for later.
A whore being taken.

You increase the tempo.
Faster and faster you fuck me.
Your nuts slapping my clit.
My walls stroke your hard meat.

Make me cum.
Make me cum.
Make me feel everything and nothing.

Harder and deeper.
I scream.
I cry.
The wave crashes over me.

I soak your dick and nuts.
In my hot sweet juice.
You drive into my hole.
And pour your cum into me.

A whore.
And her lover.
The pain.
And the passion.

Released.
Taken.
Spent.

For a moment I was everything.
For a moment I was nothing.
For a moment I could feel.
~A Naughty, Needy Kat

Play Like a Champion

I just couldn't pretend anymore.
I couldn't lie to myself.
I couldn't deny the truth.

I never sought the biggest trophy.
I just wanted to enjoy what could be.
Friends and lovers.

Too many players.
Constant chaos.
Lies and betrayals.

The game became cruel.
The basic rules long forgotten and broken.
Carelessness and pain ruled the field.

I played through my position.
Now I am no longer needed.
Or wanted.

My inevitable loss apparent long ago.
I played as best I could to the end.
Hoping I would be wrong.

My version of "play like a champion."
I kept to the rules I had embraced despite their fouls.
I kept my honor, my loyalty, my honesty, and my integrity.

It wasn't enough to turn the tide.
It wasn't enough to fight the battle.
But I am at peace with myself.

I nod my head.
To the others who can claim victory.
Their win sure to be celebrated.

So I surrend the field.
With my head high.
And retreat home to nurse my wounds.

The next match is already underway.
I'll neither participate.
Nor be a spectator.

Because I never wanted to be a part of any game in the first place.
I deserve more than to be just another play on the field.
~K.

A Storm's Demand

For Maximus, thank you for understanding when no one else really can.  ~kiss~

The storm rages above dark and heavy handed.
The thunder booms shaking the soul.
The lightening cackles and pierces the heart.
My tears are lost, drown in the cold, wrenching downpour.

No safety.
No protection.
No shelter.
From the storm.

I'm left at it's mercy.
Attempting to stand tall in its fury.
Yet bending at the howling winds.
And the bone deep chill that creeps over me.

Numb to all that I am.
Crippled and unable to fight against the onslaught.
I watch the pieces I built crumble to rubble.
Helpless to change the course.

I prepared as best I could.
I knew in the end I'd have no help.
Others shrug carelessly.
Do nothing to save the bit beauty that was.

I no longer fight.
I give in.
To the cold.
To the the storm's destruction.

I accept what I cannot save alone.
I close my eyes.
Raise my hands to the sky.
And let the storm take what it demands.
~A Lioness Weathering the Storm

Last Night

It doesn't happen very often. I admit it even less.

Last night when I crawled in bed. I ached to be held and loved. Not pretend. Not a warm body for tonight. Not because I'm an excellent fucktoy. Not because he'd found an excuse to be out all night or fit me between his other lovers.

No. None of that.

I wanted that bone deep love. The kind that sticks to the walls of your soul. That kind of safety and security.  That kind of absolute, not-gonna-get-distracted-n-go-away. The you're the center of my world kind of love. The kind that heals wounds, calms fears, gives your soul a place to put down its guards, breathe deep, and take root.

I wanted to be held.  I wanted to lay my head on a warm chest and let the scent of my man comfort me.  I wanted strong arms around me tight.  I wanted to feel a hand reach up and pet my hair as I let go of just a few trickles of tears and wounds that ached.  I wanted to feel his lips kiss away the wet trail.  I wanted to feel him roll me over and shelter me beneath him, whispering in my ear whatever magic words I needed to hear. I wanted to be loved - slow, long, deep.  I wanted to fall asleep in arms knowing I wasn't alone.

Silly. Pathetic. Unrealistic.

I know. I know.

But that's what I wanted. And needed.

Last night.
~A Tired, Stressed-Out Kitten

Myself to Blame

More music...

When you try your best, but you don't succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep
Stuck in reverse
And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can't replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?
~Fix You by Coldplay

Ω

*********

I have no one to blame
But myself.
I was warned.

Again.
And again.
And again.

But I held my course.
Fought through the stumbles.
Turned a blind eye to the inevitable.

I tried.
To be my best.
I tried.

Again.
And again.
And again.

When the blows dug deep.
When the cuts burned like fire.
I absorbed them all.

And gave more.
More room to move.
More pieces of me.

Again.
And again.
And again.

It didn't matter.
It wasn't enough.
The same choices taken.

Despite my words.
Despite my needs.
Despite my pain.

Again.
And again.
And again.

I have no one to blame.
But myself.
~A Sleepless Lioness

A Treat for Daddy's Lil Girl - Part IV

In case you missed...
Part I
Part II
Part III

"This is a very special treat.  Only for big girls.  Are you sure your ready to be a big girl, Kitten?"

I loved when Daddy spoiled me and could barely contain my excitement.  "Oh yes, Daddy.  Please...pretty please.  You said I did good when I made all that sugar for you."

"Then I have some candy for you, little girl.  A nice, juicy chocolate lollipop for you to suck on."

"Where is it, Daddy?"

"It's in my pocket, baby.  Find it."

Giggling, I quickly pressed my hand against his shirt pocket but found it empty.  My attention shifted to his pants pockets.  My first guess retrieved nothing as well.  However, when my eager hand slipped into the other pocket it was empty as well, but my fingers grazed a thick, warm bump on the other side of the pocket.  My thumb stroked it's edge.  When I looked up at Daddy's face, his eyes were at half mast and seemed hungry.  "Is that my candy, Daddy?" I asked quietly.

"Yes, Kitten.  Hurry now and get your treat."

My heart raced.  My mouth watered.  I resisted the butterflies in my tummy and slowly dragged myself down Daddy's solid frame, so that my eyes and mouth were even with his lap.  My hands fluttered over his zipper to find the tiny tag I needed to unwrap Daddy's treat for me.  I gently pulled it down.  Inch by inched revealed a thick, hot stick of dark chocolate.  I was trembling with a desperate need to taste.  I looked up at my Daddy's steamy gaze as I leaned in and took a long slow lick of the head of my very special lollipop.  Daddy closed his eyes and I heard his low tempered growl as my warm, wet tongue coated the bulb sweetly.

"Oh yes, baby.  Very good girl.  Lick it for Daddy."

His encouragement made me a little braver.  I dragged my tongue up and down the black shaft.  My teeth graze and nipped.  It tasted so good and made a delicious heat spread throughout my body.  Daddy's response drove me instinctually.  His sighs.  His moans.  I wrapped both my hands around my treat to have better access.  In my grip I could feel the warmth harden and grow.  "Daddy?" I whispered tentatively.

His strong, loving hands ran down my arms and to cup each side of my head and pet me softly.  "What, Kitten?" he patiently whispered.

Hold my treat up, so I could lick the head like an ice cream cone, I asked the questions I needed.

"Am I being a good girl for you, Daddy?"  Lick.  Lick.

"Very good.  You're being a very good girl," he sighed.  Nibble.  Lick.

"Am I sucking your dick, Daddy?  Like the other girls at school do to the boys?"  Lick.  Daddy's hands tightened in my hair sending fire between my legs and to my breasts.  I paused then wrapped my lips around the shiny fat head to suck gently.  The heat and tug of my mouth caused the shaft to violently flex in my hands.  Daddy's hips rose and pushed more of the hot, salty treat in my mouth.

"Yes," Daddy growled.  "You're sucking my dick like a very big girl.  Do you like my dick in your mouth?"  My tongue flickered across the tight bulb as I sucked.  With a pop I broke the suction to answer.

"Oh yes, Daddy.  I love my chocolate treat.  Does it feel good?"  Lick.  Nibble.  Nip.

"Fuck yes....you kiss it and lick it and make Daddy feel better," he urged as his hips thrust upward again sliding his dick in my grip.  Lick.  Lick.  Lick.

"Do you make sugar like me?" I whispered as I rubbed my breasts against his hip and tightened my thighs together to try to ease the pressure building inside me.  Daddy reached down at the hem of my dress around my waist and began to pull it off me.

"Take it off I want to see you and feel your soft skin," he demanded.  I let go of his dick and lifted up to let him strip me of all but my panties and thigh high white tights.  His hands immediately covered my breasts and squeezed them tightly.  I groaned in pleasure.  "No.  Daddy, doesn't make sugar like his little girl," he growled darkly.  He plucked at my fat twin nubs and my silver rings.  Tightly and barely control, he explained.  "Daddy makes cream...nut...cum.  Do you want Daddy's cream little girl?  Do you want to suck Daddy's hot nut?  Will you swallow my sticky cum and lick it off your lips like a big girl?"  He words wove magic around me.  I panted at the tightness across my skin.

"Yes, oh yes Daddy...please."  I begged.

A slightly stinging slap to my cheek that only fueled my desperate need to please my Daddy.  "Say it," he ordered as he shifted one hand to encircle his hard dick while he continued to taunt my nipple.

"Daddy...may I please have your cream?" I breathlessly gasped between licking my lips.  "Can I suck out your hot nut please Daddy?  I so want to taste and swallow your cum.  Pleaseeeee...."  I was captivated as I watched him stroke his shaft.  Learning what he liked and what I should do to please him.  "I'm starving Daddy," I whimpered.  I was so hungry.  "Do I have to use my manners, Daddy?  Or can I be naughty and messy?"

At my last heated questions, he clenched his eyes and took a deep breath.  He hand stopped toying with my nipple and reached to grasp the nape of my neck firmly.  "Look at me, little girl," he demanded harshly.  I broke my stare of his hands slow beat.  His smokey gaze made me tremble.  He whispered between clenched teeth, "When you're sucking my dick be as nasty as you want and need to be.  I want my dick wet and sloppy, understand?"  I nodded quickly.  "Now open your mouth real wide and suck your Daddy's dick and nuts like a good lil girl."  With that last command he pulled my head to his lap by my neck.

His hand held the base as my greedy mouth latched onto his juicy head.  I licked and sucked.  Spit dripping down his shaft.  He shook his dick in my mouth roughly bruising my lips.  "Take this fat dick, baby."  My mouth dropped further to take more of him.  "Open up wide.  Be a big girl and take it all."  I spread my mouth wide and slowly fell down his shaft.  When I hesitated, he pushed firmly little by little.  My nose pressed to his nuckle.  His head at my throat.  I choked.  "Good girl, choke on Daddy's dick."  My spit drenched him.  I closed my mouth tight and encased him in the heat of my mouth.  He groan harshly then gripped my hair and pulled me off his meat.  I gasped for air.  "Again!"  I dropped onto him and without his guidance gave my Daddy what he liked so.  His skin dragging across my tongue, his smell, his taste...I couldn't get enough.  I devoured my treat.

"Look at me!"  As my head drove up and down my chocolate lollipop, I met his eyes.  I lashed him with my tongue.  I grazed his skin with my teeth.  I sucked.  I drooled.  I pumped him with my fist.  He started to groan again and again.  With one hand he gripped my hair and held me just out of reach. With the other he started slowly pumping himself.  "Open up little girl.  Daddy's going to feed you some hot cream."

Like a hungry little bird, I held my lips wide and tongue out.  My eyes looking up at Daddy so helplessly wanting.  One stroke.  Two.  Three.  His cum violently erupted out of his pulsing head.  The hot delicious nut landing in my mouth, on my tongue, on my lips, across my cheek.  When Daddy threw back his head and shouted my name, I looked down to see the beautiful white cream running over his head, down his shaft, and across his fingers.  As his gripped slipped in my hair I immediately latched on to him again to milk him dry.

Every drop was my reward.  My treat.  For being a good girl.  Long minutes passed as I cleaned Daddy up with my tongue.  I couldn't get enough.  I heard Daddy sigh so contentedly.  His hands rested lightly on my back stroking his Kitten.  Gently he grasped my hand and pulled me up his body to hold me close.  He kissed my ear and stroked my hip.  I snuggled into his warmth and whispered, "Daddy, you tasted so good."

He chuckled warmly, "You're an excellent cock sucker, little girl.  Daddy is quite pleased with you."

Sweetly I asked, "Does that mean I can do it again?"  Another laugh and a tight squeeze and my heart almost burst with love for my Daddy.

"Oh yes, baby.  But first, I need to return the favor and show you what I else I now expect out of you."

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean Daddy?"

Shifting his weight and pushing me onto my back, he growled, "How about I show you, little girl.  Show you how to be a nasty little slut for Daddy."  Then his lips covered mine, and I lost myself to Daddy's deep thorough kiss.

To be continued...


P.S.  Be brave...say something you naughty perv. lol

Below the Surface

A friend sent this my way.  Many thanks.  It set me to writing once again...

I am not your rolling wheels
I am the highway
I am not your carpet ride
I am the sky
I am not your blowing wind
I am the lightning
I am not your autumn moon
I am the night, the night...
- Audioslave - I am the Highway

************

I fly higher.
Yet the inevitable crash is vicious.
I dive deeper.
And drown in the murky depths.

I burn brighter.
Like a falling star doomed to crumble.
I grow colder.
Than an Arctic winter's dawn.

No middle ground.
I am destine to the long, dark road.

I live.
I breathe.
I feel.
I love.

I run until I stumble.
I dance until I collapse.
And take merciless blows,
That never quite seem to heal.

I give.
Until I'm starving.
I laugh and weep.
Until I ache.

My passion runs hot and rampant.
Never content with the safety of the center.

I am your sweetest wet dream.
I am your living nightmare.
I am the brightest dawn.
I am the darkest of night.

Strong.
Yet damaged beyond repair.
Peace.
Within a vortex of chaos.

I desire kindness and patience.
Comfort and protection.
Not careless disregard.
Nor foolish games.

I seek a foundation.
To take root and blossom.
Not shifting sands.
And razor shards.

I seek no drama.
But I'll stand and fight.
Until that which I cherish.
Leaves my side.

Survive the day.
Withstand the crashing tide.
Brutal honesty.
Amid blatant lies.

I lick my wounds in the shadows.
And stand proud and distant come the morn.
~The Sole Lioness

BTW...be brave.  Say something.

Put It All Away

Pain.
Sharp.
Deep.
Choking.

I can no longer sit and watch myself bleed out.
I have to put it all away.

I've waited.
I've tried.
I've begged.
I've fought.

I've been given no choice but to give up.
I have to put it all away.

All that I've felt.
All that I've gained.
All that I've lost.
All that has been broken.

I can't save it alone.  I couldn't save it alone.
I have to put it all away.

Sweep up the pieces.
The shattered needs.
The raw vulnerability.
They couldn't survive recklessness.

Intentional.
Careless.
Selfish.
Thoughtless.

The choices made were not my own.
I have to put it all away.

Consequences no one understands.
Yet I must pay.
The little one's new voice buried in silence.
The wicked one simply lost in emptiness.

No one to comfort.
The ache, the hurt, the tears.
No one who understands or even cares.
All that was lost.

I have to survive.  I always just survive.
I have to put it all away.
~A Very Weary Lioness

Play Toy

I've been questioned on my role as a Toy, which I thought seemed quite self-explanatory.  Here's a bit more...detail.

Take me out when you're in the mood.
I'll be anything you want me to be.
We'll have the best play when you have time.
No demands, no worries, no responsibility.

Just close your eyes and dream the dream.
And I'll bring it all to life, my dear.
I have no emotions, no thoughts, no dreams.
I'm simply an escape from all you hate and fear.

You can tell your tales or keep your secrets.
It makes no difference to me.
I suck, I fuck as you need.
I'm the perfect toy as you can see.

A whore. A slave.  A little girl.
A warm, willing body for you to touch.
Your domme.  Your bitch.  Your nasty slut.
I'll cum and please you, I don't need much.

Some dream of me.
Some know my name.
It's all the same.
It's just a game.

Who I am and what I feel.
You truly don't have to care.
My needs don't matter to you I know.
You really wouldn't dare.

You take.
I give.
That's the life,
I live.

Your wife and mistresses
Your lovers and friends.
I know they matter most to you.
In the end.

Just put me down when you're all done.
And it's time for you to walk away.
You'll shut the door and go on with life.
I know you never intended to stay.

~Kat

Sweet Patient Torture - Part II

In case you missed Part I

Still trying to catch my breath from the deep throating I'd just finished, it took a moment before I could catalogue what limbs to move to comply with my order.  It was a moment too long.  While one hand purposely gripped on my forearm to keep my balanced, he slapped my pussy quick and sharp.  "Move, bitch."  I shifted my weight and turned around.  His hands trailing firmly around my waist to ensure my safety.  My leash dragging tauntingly across my body.

I had braced myself to bend again at my waist when his fingers grasped mine.  "Wait."  I clasped onto them desperately.  The intimacy.  The moment of tenderness.  Released.  Both hands holding my waist.  "On your knees.  Face down.  Ass up."  He guided me gracefully to my proper position.  My head rested so securely on the floor at his feet.  I breathed a small sigh of relief at the small bit of steadiness, he'd granted me.

He'd claimed my leash again, dragging it loosely across my bound arms and the open expanse of my back.  "I like my good, obedient bitch on her knees."  He molded each ass cheek.  I closed my eyes and let myself fly with his voice and his touch.  "Are you in heat for your Master?"

A shiver ran down my spine. "Yes, Sire.  I'm your bitch in heat.  I need fucked."

"And what part of you needs fucked?"  With both hands he spread my cheeks wide apart baring my puckered, dark pink asshole.

"Every fuckhole I have needs your hard dick, Sire."

He laughed darkly.  "And every one of your fuckholes will get reamed tonight.  I promise you.  You'll be dripping in my cum and rain, my sweet whore."  He released my cheeks and unbound my wrists.  "Show me your fuckholes."  I gripped my fat ass and opened myself up to him without any hesitation. Suddenly his hot, wet tongue was flickering against my tight bud.  I froze.  I groaned.  I trembled.  His  teasing strokes grew more demanding.  A slight push into me.  I gasped.  His hand struck my inner thigh impatiently.  "Open up, bitch."  I relaxed and loosened to receive his extraordinarily intimate dives.  Deeper.  Deeper.  His mouth lubed my asshole with his hot spit.  Deeper.  The intensity building brutally quick.  Deeper.  He shook his head, and I exploded.

"Master!" My squirting cunt rained down on the floor in a puddle.  As I was cumming, he pushed his long middle finger deep in my ass and shoved three fingers of his other hand in my pussy.

"Keep cumming..."  He pounded me with his hands.  Another gushing orgasm.  "I'm going to fuck the dog shit out of my spoiled fuck toy soon."  Twisting his wrists.  Another.  "And you will serve this dick over and over and over."  I simply grunted with the next mind splintering orgasm.  He pulled both hands free of my gripping holes.  The abrupt void dragged me from one mental extreme to another.  I only had time for one deep breath then he slapped at my cunt.  "You're such a good nasty slut aren't you?"  I cried out.  Another slap.  Then I felt a brittle, wet cold on my asshole.  I hissed in response and instinctively tried to shift away, but he quickly snatched the leash and pulled me back.  "No, no...Suck on this ice cube with your asshole, slut."

My nails dug into my ass cheeks at the cold.  "As you wish, Sire."  Sweetly seductive with an edge of brisk pain.  Just the tip was fucking my hot greedy hole.  It's melting tears running down my crack.

"Perfect, my nasty little bitch.  I love watching your ass suck at my dick, but this is lovely as well.  Do you remember me doing it to another slut?"

"Yes, Sire.  I remember."  The icy shafts strokes were brutal.  I panted.  He final removed my erotic torture and leaned forward.  His tongue felt like fire piercing me.  I whimpered speechless.  Two...three strokes.  He milked a long, slow, deep orgasm from my soul that left me limp and the floor beneath me a puddle of hot cum.  A kiss.  A lick.  Along warm breath slowed my racing heart.

"Come here my pet."  He gently worked the leash and nudged me to turn around and kneel at his feet.  My knees damp.  My arms limp.  He brought my head to rest softly on his knee and began to pet my hair reassuringly.  My eyes fluttered shut.  My mind in a haze.  As I basked in his tenderness, I felt the cold kiss drag across my lips.  "Open up and take your treat, baby."  My lips opened and I sucked the ice cube so recently fucking my ass into my mouth.  "Good girl," he whispered.  He continued as he stroked me, "I love when my bitch is fed by my hand."

The last bits melted silently in my mouth and slipped down my throat.

"Thank you, Master."

With and Without

Without trust, there can be no friendship.
Without honesty, there is no respect.
Without honor, there is no love.

With submission comes responsibility.
With freedom comes control.

Without action and deed, words are meaningless.
Without self-discipline, there's no value.
Without boundaries, there's no place to build.

With carelessness, comes cruelty.
With deceit, comes destruction.

Cause and effect.
Behavior and consequences.

I can no more change these truths than I can change the wind.
And I must accept that I cannot change what I've become.
~Kat

Between Heaven and Hell

It's a fine line.
Between heaven,
And hell.

A razor's edge.
A blade's wicked tip.

I drown in flames.
Under a cool summer rain.

A slice of pain.
A kiss of passion.
To fly.
To stumble.

It's a fine line.
Between heaven,
And hell.

The dark road twists and turns.
Lost in the shadows and games.

The cold comfort of survival.
The hot vice of seduction.

A fight to be free.
A chain that strangles.

Impossible truth.
Sweet cutting lies.

Don't ask for sweet poison.
It shatters at the core.

No way to win.
Loss at every crossroads.

It's a fine line.
Between heaven,
And hell.

I walk that fine line.
I dance that fine line.

I crash on that fine line.
Between heaven.
And hell.
~K.

Flipping the Table

Sometimes you just have to flip the table over and let everything crash down so you can sift through the mess.

I'm full.

Very, very full.

Time to clear my mind, heart, and soul, shake off the mud, and get back on my feet again.
~A Lioness Taking a Long Walk in the Woods

Sweet Patient Torture - Part I

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Daddy's Good Little Girl - Part III

In case you missed Part II
Or Part I

I hopped up from Daddy's lap and scuttled onto the big wide bed, my spanking forgotten.  Kneeling, I turned around anxious for my Daddy to join me and begin to teach me the mystery I longed to understand.  He slowly stood as he loosened his tie and removed his suit jacket.  His eyes roamed over my body, and heat filled me.  "Lay down, Kitten.  Stretch out so I can see that long, thick, 5' 11" body of yours."  He unbuttoned his cuffs while he silently watched me obey his direction.  "Do you trust me, Kitten?" he asked rolling his sleeves.

My breath caught for some unknown reason.  I knew this was important.  "Yes, Daddy.  I trust you."

His weight shifted the bed and butterflies danced in my tummy.  He stretched out on his side next to me.  With his finger he tipped my head back so I was looking into his eyes. "And are you going to try very hard to be Daddy's Good Little Girl?"

"Oh yes, Daddy.  I promise I'll be very, very good for you."

The rest of his fingers extended to cup my cheek as he searched my face.  His hand slid back to clench my hair, and he pulled my head into the crook of his arm.  "Open your mouth, Kitten."  Immediately my lips parted and his tongue slipped between them like a hot, wet sword.  My heart raced.  My breath caught.  His tongue demanded my obedience.  I whimpered as his teeth bit my lower lip, but his tongue quickly dragged across it to temper the sting.  It seemed natural when he pulled back just a bit to suck his tongue in and out of my mouth.  With a groan, he broke the suction.  "Pull down your  dress again so I can look at your breasts."  I hurried to bare myself, eager to have him touch me again.

"They ache Daddy so much.  Please..."

I felt his hand cup my heavy globe.  I arched into his touch instinctually and moaned.  "I love your fat, heavy tits.  From now on you will show these to me whenever and where ever I ask.  Is that understood?"

Breathlessly, "Yes, Daddy.  I understand."  He pinched my pebbled, begging nipple hard then brought it to his mouth and sucked.  My back arched and the hot, ache spread violently through my body.

"Oh, Daddy.  Please, Daddy.  It hurts," I whimpered.

With a final lash of his tongue he lifted from my nipple.  "Tell Daddy where it hurts."  I tucked my face into his shoulder shyly not wanting to admit the truth.  A soft kiss to my cheek.  To my ear.  "Be a good girl and tell me, Kitten so I can make it better."

I mumbled into his shoulder.  "No, be a big girl.  Say it.  To be a big girl, you have to be brave and tell Daddy everything you feel no matter what.  I'm going to teach you all the words you need, so that I'll know exactly what my little girl needs and when.  But first tell Daddy where it aches so bad."

I leaned my lips close to his ear and ever so quietly admitted my naughty need.  "In my panties, Daddy.  It hurts in my panties."

His grip on me tightened ever so softly in reassurance.  "Good girl.  Very, very good girl.  Now pull your dress up.  Show Daddy where it aches."  I closed my eyes, and my nervous hands reached down and inched up my hem to reveal the delicate two inch band of my panties.  His warm fingertips traced the top edge.  I moan softly wanting something I couldn't describe.

"Tell Daddy what you want.  Say it.  You know what you want don't you?"

My frustration mounted.  My hips moved closer to feel more of his touch.  "Please Daddy...Touch me."  A deep breath.  "Touch me in my panties."

Gently and so slowly it seemed to hurt, his hand slipped under the band and moved down.  "Spread your legs, Kitten.  Let Daddy give you what you need."  My legs moved slightly apart.  He halted his hand.  "Further," he encouraged.  "Spread them as far apart as they will go, or I'll stop right now."  I gave in to the helpless need and surrendered my shy bit of fear.  I opened my thighs for my Daddy like a good girl.  He rewarded me and continued to inch closer.  I held my breath.  So close, I could feel it.  The tension was vibrating through my still body, waiting.

"Open your eyes and look at me."  I opened my eyes and stared into my Daddy's warm chocolate eyes as he slipped his hand between my legs and cupped me.  My eyes widen.  The little explosions that danced in me left me gasping.  "Daddy!"

Heat flared in his eyes.  "Yes, Kitten.  Feel it.  Just let yourself feel it."  His hand rubbed against me again and again just a fraction of movement back and forth.  "You're so nice and wet.  I'm very, very pleased."  He kissed my cheek.  He traced my ear with his tongue.  He held me so close, I'd never felt safer.  "This is our little secret Kitten, do you understand?  Even though your way past old enough, some people won't appreciate what a good little girl you are for Daddy.  So promise, Daddy..."

His words added to my need and the bond building between us.  With no doubt or hesitation, "Yes, Daddy. I promise.  Our little secret.  Just please....don't stop.  It feels so good when you rub me down there.  But...it still...aches.  It's getting worse, Daddy.  Please..."  My hips had begun to grind against his palm instinctually.

"Oh yes...You're such a good little girl, Kitten.  It aches because you need me to rub this sweet little button you have.  Right..."  His fingers shifted and focused.  I could feel them pull just a bit and then. "Here."

At that first direct touch, I cried out harshly.  "Daddy!!!"  He started to rub hard and fast against me.

"Let go, baby.  Give Daddy that sweet sugar."  Over and over again he stroked me.  I panted and began to tremble uncontrollably, yet still he continued.  I clung to him desperately.  The pressure built higher and higher. "Give it to me.  Like a good fucking little girl," he growled.  I shattered.

"Daddy!" In my mind a thousand sparkling pieces showered down on me.  He cupped me close and I could feel hot, warm juice spurt against Daddy's palm and fingers.  He rubbed and coated my skin.  "There's my girl.  Oh yes, baby.  Cum for Daddy."  The hot center of me pulsed and quivered.  My uncontrolled moans filled the room as he continued to nurture ever ounce of pleasure from me.  "So...good.  Daddy is so proud of you, Kitten.  All this sugar for me."

He continued to praise me softly, until slowly the intensity began to recede.  Daddy's petting gradually become more calming, and my breathing slowed.  When he gently removed his hand from my panties, I watched as he licked my sugar from one finger.  "Mmmmm...my Kitten tastes very good.  Look how wet you were for me."  He held his dripping fingers in front of me.  "You've done a very good job, baby.  I think you've earned an extra special treat.  But first...taste.  Taste your sugar.  Suck and lick it off my hand."

I opened my mouth and took a long lick from his wrist to the tip of his finger.  Then slowly pulled it into my mouth and sucked as I was instructed.  Daddy sucked in a little breath, but I didn't stop.  I licked and sucked and tasted the addictive sweet sugar Daddy inspired in me.  Once I finished, he leaned down to me and gave me a long slow kiss.  When he released my lips, I asked,  "Daddy...what's my special treat?"

His grip on me tighten.  "I have some candy for you, little girl.  A nice fat chocolate lollipop for you to suck on."

"Ooh! Really?  Thank you, Daddy!  Can I have it now?!?"

"You can definitely have it now, Kitten."

To be continued...
Part IV

Warning Label

I write.  That is a part of me just as the color of my eyes.  In the last few days, I've dropped the veil to reveal more than my sexual dark fantasies and thoughts.  I've shed light on my life and my pain.  I've uncovered pieces of myself few have ever seen.  Tonight, I've chosen to continue this path.  After all, what does it really matter.  99.9% of you will never see, hear, smell, taste or touch me.  I am simply whatever woman on the other side of the screen you imagine me to be.  ~shrug~  I can no longer find it in me to care what you may or may not see in me.  That is truly reserved for the ones closest and dearest to me.

As anyone does when getting to know someone, they share pieces of themselves.  I'm beginning to wonder why I even try.  Too often, my words go unheard, unbelieved, or carelessly shrugged off in indifference.  Then when that person sees whatever it is that I previously described, they act shocked, amazed, or confused.  My response is just about always the same, "Ummmm...I told you."

Recently, semi-publicly (Fet/blog) I went cold.  Cold is the only term I've ever come up with to describe that emotional and mental state.  No, I'm not - nor have I ever claimed to be - the coldest bitch in the world.  However, people that know my heat and passion struggle to imagine me like this when I've tried to explain the potential.  But it is there.

The ability to go cold did not always exist in me.  No.  Not at all.  However, my ex-husband trained me extraordinarily well.  Ten years of routine emotional abuse and a couple instances of physical abuse trained me proficiently on how to go cold. To shut down and no longer receive or absorb the emotional onslaught of pain coming toward me.  However, in the time since my flight from hell, I have (on my own and with several skilled and patient teachers) managed to make some technical adjustments to my training.

The difference between then and now is that I will never again be on my knees mentally and emotionally out of fear and the belief that I am nothing.  In my marriage following whatever transgression I had made, he would spend approximately an average of four hours berating me for every possible worthless behavior or failure as a wife, mother, and human being he could image.  He tore me down in any and all ways he could.  It was during these session I mastered my ability to go cold.  To feel absolutely nothing.  To protect myself as best I could from the excruciating pain and heartache.  I would sit for hours unmoving, my eyes unfocused, losing myself in nothingness.  I would push the pieces of myself further and further away and apart from one another.  Each would get smaller and smaller until they quite simply ceased to exist in that moment.

I was nothing.

Everything inside me was simply gone.  Dead.  I was nothing but a plain, twenty-something year old female shell sitting quietly with tears streaming down her freckled cheeks as her husband screamed and yelled to the point where spittle would land on her cheek.  (You could say this fucked me up for a good, long time.  But that tangent isn't something I'm covering in this post.)

One of the side effects of this tactic that I was unaware of at the time was that some of those pieces I pushed far, far away to protect would get lost somewhere.  Slowly but surely over those 10 years, I lost more and more and more of myself.  So many pieces were lost, and some of them I still haven't to this day found.  Though I have managed to get a majority of them back in some way, shape, or form.  But all that took a long fucking time.

Jump ahead to present day.

First I should say that I make every effort I possibly can to avoid this state, especially with those I care about.  I'll back up.  I'll try to walk away.  I'll give more than one chance.  The normal, everyday woman that I am doesn't want to go cold and exist in that numb hazy.  I hate emotional pain.  I've had my share, and I really do want to avoid any additional gargantuan lumps of it.  I realize pain is a part of living, but the big, ugly drama-like chaos...I try not to let that nasty shit get too close to me.  I also try so hard to avoid it because I have an inkling as to what I'm capable of, how cold I could get, and how that really would be a very fucked up place for me to get stuck in.  No...I don't want to go there.  I don't like it there.  But I will if forced to.

When I'm emotionally pushed and pushed to my breaking point and when whatever it is in me that finally snaps, I don't shove the pieces of me away like I did in my marriage.  Instead I bare down.  Hard.  Fast.  In a split second, I lock up all of the pieces that begin to tremble and threaten to explode into oblivion behind cold, seamless steel - protected and sheltered until I'm safe and can let myself begin to tear down my guards again.  My emotions are trapped inside that safe, secure place for another time and another place.  When the pain gets too much, I lock it away so that I no longer hurt and no longer feel it's blinding bite.

And when necessary I fucking fight back.  I will never again sit and take, take, take.  I will not be silent out of fear and weakness.  I will not simply be a victim to another's assault of emotional blows.  I will stand up for myself.  I will protect myself.  And I will strike back harder than I've been hit.  Because the one thing I've learned over and over again in life is that if there's no consequences, people just seem to do it all over again.  No...it's not pretty at all.  But I don't start shit.  I don't.  And when politeness and patience gets run over and taken advantage of too many damn times, then I can't find it in me to care very much about anyone else's state.  ~sigh~  I'm not looking to destroy anyone.  I'm not.  I just don't want to hurt again.

Maybe I should feel bad that I'm like this, but I don't.  Because I know there is balance.  The loyalty and love I am capable of sharing, giving, and offering is beautiful and true.  If you can honor our friendship/relationship with honesty, compassion, and love, I promise you...I will return it all exponentially.  Now...if who I am and how I am capable of being when I'm backed into a corner is not something you can cope with, then I completely understand if you would prefer we go our separate ways.  I know there are difficult pieces of me that can be too much for some to handle.  I get that.  I guess that's why I try to warn people ahead of time.  So please, just be a little bit careful with me.  Just a little?
~A Lioness Guarding Her Soul

Fighting Through

Under the blanket, a warm, strong hand followed the line of my thigh to grasp my hip.  A flicker of heat after a long, cold, exhausting day.  An ache bone deep had consumed my soul.  My heart and mind numb.  Yet my body betrayed my sense and craved that heat.  My breath froze in my lungs waiting.

His hand tightened its hold.  His fingers bruising.  Sharply, I pulled my hip forward away from the heat mere inches from my back. I couldn't help my rebellion - my angry spark of resistance.  His hand snaked out to take hold of my thigh and tug.  I resisted again.  His weigh shifted immediately closer.  I pushed.  A tangle of limbs wrestled for dominance.  A grasp.  A push.  A tug.  Futile.  I knew who would win.  I struggled anyway.  I couldn't make this easy.  I refused to obey.

Until suddenly it was over.  His weight on top of me.  My wrists held firm in one fist.  My hair gripped in the other.  His hard, thick dick pressed against my abdomen as his legs trailed between my spread thighs.  He leaned down to my ear.  "Did you think I would let you go?"  A light kiss on my cheek.  A nip at my ear.  The stroke of his tongue on the crease of my lips.

"Say you don't want it," he whispered.  "Say you don't need it.  Us."

My ragged breathing was his only reply.

"A safe word is your only out."  He released my hair.  I knew what was coming. I struggled to escape, yet in moments I was bound securely to the solid iron headboard.  He pushed the last of the covers off of us as he slid down my body to rest between my thighs.  When I realized his intent, my fear leaped.  I whimpered and struggled to deny him his way.   His arms wrapped under and around my thighs and held me to the bed and him.  A kiss and lick to my hip.  A bit to the inside of my thigh.  "You're already wet.  I can smell your desire."  He spread my thighs further so that I was bare and exposed.  He paused to blatantly explore me with his eyes.  "Beautiful."  Then he devoured me.  His tongue dove between my folds.  His lips sucked and teeth grazed my swollen clit.  My tears finally broke with his assault.  Every shred of pain unfrozen and melting beneath his touch and our passion.  My hips bucked in fight against or toward the passion I couldn't explain.  I didn't want to feel.  I did.  My internal struggle.  Our emotional battle.  The pain I hadn't let myself feel bled freely now.  I mentally grasped to find my previous anger and frustration.  His touch scattered them both.

His fingers pulled back my heavy, sensitive lips and his tongue fucked my cunt deep and long.  Again and again.  "Cum, baby.  Cum.  Let it go.  Cum for me.  Let me taste you.  Let me drink you."  My gasps.  My groans.  My face stained with tears.  I couldn't find my way through any of it.  My emotions poured through the broken wall of my soul he'd purposely uncovered.  Suddenly three fingers filled me, and his tongue lashed my clit.  My hips instinctually rose to meet him.  He pushed inside me deep, hard, and demanding.  Over and over.  "Cum, baby."  His touch finally ripped the orgasm from me.  "Yes, baby.  Cum for me."  My harsh, endless cry accompanied the gushing wet strokes he refused to slow.  He licked at my dripping pussy.  His cheeks, chin, and lips covered in my sugar.  "Again.  I want more.  Let it go.  Let it all out."  Within moments, the pounding of his fingers sent another helpless wave of pleasure rocketing through me.  My orgasm soaking his chest, his arms.

My tears continued to fall.  I could no longer think.  I simply existed in the emotional and physical riot that was us.  He rose up and kissed me deep and sure.  I licked at his lips, sucked at his tongue, tasting myself.  Losing myself further and further in us.  "I'll fix it.  I'll make it all go away," he whisper as he kissed and licked at my salty tears.  "I won't let you hurt anymore."  He slowly, so fucking slowly, fed his hard thick dick into me.  "I'll make it better, baby."  When he was embedded into me so deep I panted, he reach above us and unbound my wrists.  His arms arms surrounded me.  I clung to him.  When he pulled slowly out, my nails dug into his skin in instinctual refusal.  Poised with his head at my entrance, he whispered, "Say it.  Say it, baby."

He waited.  Straining.  My body begged.  I simply needed.  And I finally let go.

With a broken, harsh cry, "Please..."

He instantly drove into my heat.  His dick pumped me long and hard.  "Please..." I whisper.  "Yes..." I cried.  My cunt was filled with his consuming strokes.  Hard and harder.  Faster.  "You're mine.  I won't let you fucking go."  The walls of my pussy clenched his demanding shaft.  My nails raked down his back.  His hand held me so tightly, bruises bloomed.  Our punishing strokes met violently.  With a shout he drove into me one final time.  We exploded.  My cries echoed him.  His hot thick nut spurted endlessly inside my pulsing flesh.  My cum drenched his shaft and tight balls.  His hold on me tightened.  His embrace shattered the last wall I held in place.  As, he leaned his forehead on mine and clenched me to him, through my tears and sobs I heard him whisper over and over again, "Your mine.  Your mine, baby." He cooed to me, he kissed away my tears, and he gently stroked the shell of my ear.  Until finally, I found peace.  Peace in his arms.  Peace in us.
~A Battle Weary Lioness

**********

While this fantasy is about a determined lover fighting through me to get to my heart, it is also more than that.  In nearly 40 years, I've a never had a man I called my own fight for me.  Always, when I love a man, he has other obligations, duties, and ties.  Inevitably, I am simply the casualty to those other demanding and needy priorities.  I long for a lover who willingly stands beside me - to defend me, to protect me, to shield me as I would him.  Funny how a strong woman is put to the test, and the weak, helpless one coddled and protected.  Again, it seems my biggest asset is also my greatest weakness.  I wish I could put down my shield and spear - in fact I've tried, but that only ever leaves me defenseless against the next assault.  I don't know.  I just don't know.