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