How Far Will I Go?

My fantasy comes to life, Goddess playing with Her toy.

How far will I go for You Sweet Goddess? How deep will You take me? Can I become strong enough for You and myself to enjoy this journey with You?  What will I learn about You?

I see the fantasy and the dream and wonder who I will become, what do I need to do to grow?

I have been wondering why I want to do this, why I would put myself in Her sadistic hands? Is it the intimacy I have been seeking? Is it to see how deep and wide love can be, when two flow into One? Is God on the otherside or is it sometning else?

Someone I spoke with a little while ago told me, it takes two strong people, otherwise when you add in BDSM to realtionship it is a recipe for disaster. But then again it may also depend on how deep the couple wants to play.

I am learning I must be patient, I will not rush this journey it is important to me.

5 ting jeg oppdaget i september

Jeg glemte å fortelle hva jeg oppdaget i september. Men det er jo aldri for sent å ta et tilbakeblikk.

1. Porno kan noen ganger være akkurat like ekkelt som pornohaterne sier.

2. Det holder ikke å være villig til å forsøke alt en gang, denne bloggposten lærte meg at to er et bedre tall.

3. Apropos blogging, september bragte nye sexblogger til bloggerbys mer snuskete strøk. En av dem er Dronningfitta, en lovende blogg med godt språk. Jeg er lett sjarmert av godt språk.

4. En annen fersk er Duktig Pojk. Pojk skriver om ageplay på en måte som får meg til å le, og tenke, og le igjen.

5. Via Black Matrix oppdaget jeg fotograf Barbara Nitke. Fotokunst med motiver fra BDSM er overraskende nok ikke så vanlig, så jeg anbefaler alle en tur innom hennes nettside.

64 - Unique

So I can say: You are like this, or that:
You are the most amazing megastar
Touching my skin across a gap so far
That I can only gaze in wonder at:
You are the chill that kills my thermostat
You boil me up inside Your samovar
Then strap me up and lap me in Your car
From 0 to 60 in one second flat:

Or not. For none of that is strictly true.
You are like nothing else, Yourself, unique-
Untouchable, not winnable, for You
Keep disappearing everywhere I seek
And this is joy, more than I ever knew,
Sung in a language I can hardly speak.

Review of TWIKS #9 Podcast featuring Domina Dea and Boss Bondage

Domina Dea was a guest on  This Week In Kink’s, podcast #9, along with Boss Bondage, member the West Coast Assholes.  You’ll have to listen to the interview to hear about the West Coast Assholes.

The podcast was produced by Tonya. She invited the guests, prepared the questions, and supplied sources for the topics.  She and John Baku engaged Domina Dea and Boss in questions submitted by their audience.  The discussions were informative, intelligent, candid, and peppered with lively repartee.

I felt like a fly on the wall listening in on an intimate conversation between 4 people who were sitting in a lounge sipping their poison comfortably chatting away.

As I told Domina Dea, she was interesting, very intelligent, and her voice was sexy as hell. She should have her own show period.  Seriously.  But I am biased.   ‘-)

Slightly Crumbly

Naturally, once I handed over the key to my personal pandora’s box, my partner –that very night– went and read through half the archives. They did not waste time, oh no. To which my reaction was a kind of stuttering limbo between:

AeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiGHHHHHHH!

and:

‘Okay. Looks like that wasn’t such a big deal.’

“So I’m not so into rape and torture,” they said.

“I’m not necessarily either,” I replied. I did my best to answer their questions, to describe my experiences. I found the description surprisingly hard, as if all the clear-cut word-frames I’d thought of before had flown apart. We discussed the nebulousness of kinky vocabulary and how nobody is using anything the same way. I don’t know where I will go over the tumbled wreckage of the thick, high, camouflaged walls I spent two decades building around these parts of myself. It is. I am freer than I was.

“So, do you feel rejected?” they asked, waggling their eyebrows, warming my ice-block feet between their thighs. I wiggled my toes.

I have given partner’s partner Dev and Dw3t-Hthr’s blog addresses, and told them that if they stumble across me, it’s their call if they want to read.

There are things I missed in my last comma-abusing stream of thought. Such as that I am exploring my other gender. (Being argued with by an eight-year-old about if I am a man: Priceless). That I missed participating in this loosely woven sexuality community, lopsided as it is. To just be able to talk to or read the thoughts of people where it is taken for granted that I am what I am, and that it is normal, without any explaining. To remember that there really are others who share my experience.

I realized yesterday during an unrelated emotionally intense conversation, that I am in approximately eight-million different pieces. I didn’t even know it until I had said it aloud.

I am a dominant and a sadist looking for ways to meet my needs with no idea how. I have just torn down the maximum security fences that I started building when I was three. I am in a new place, beginning a new life, that I don’t know if I will continue or move on from. I am stumbling along trying to learn how to live with the people around me in an intimate and meaningful way. Through various small events and interactions, the line between my old life and my new life has become smudged, and it’s not as comfortable as when there was a clean break. I am a maker longing to make, and I don’t know how to share what I make, and I fear what I make will not be wanted. I do not know my role in a dying world, my responsibilities to the land or my responsibilities to myself. I don’t feel like an emotional wreck, but I am not entirely together either.

Right now it just feels like this vaguely uncomfortable, toe-stubbing stage that I’m bound to go through until all these aspects of my life begin to coalesce again. In the eye in the back of my brain, I see something like jewel-toned stained glass.

Things Doms aren't supposed to talk about.

One of my moderators at MDS, Minofsin, posted a very provocative blog this evening about Dominants.   I’m posting it here because I really like it.  Sometimes I feel that being a dominant is sort of belonging to a really cool club with a bunch of cool people and everyone’s nodding that it’s all cool, except for those times when you just want to be.

Things Doms aren’t supposed to talk about.

by Minofsin

You don’t see many Dominants willing to discuss these things in public. One of the interesting things about the Roundtable program that is running here in Chicago and the MAsT meetings are the first times I have actually heard Dominants/Masters complain about the petty shit we aren’t supposed to mention anywhere else. Ok, maybe you hear complains, but it’s usually made in jest. But to hear other Dominants talk about their issues and their struggles not just with their relationships, but their own internal issues is refreshing.

We’re not alone.

But again, it’s not always what it’s cracked up to be. Don’t get me wrong, unless I was seriously forced to at gunpoint, I’d never give this lifestyle up. It completes me in a way few others do. But there are times when I want to pull out what little hair I have left and scream to the top of my lungs, “I’m tired of being a fucking Dominant.” Some days, I only want to deal with myself and nothing and no one else.

If saying that causes some to shake their head and think (because of course no one would have the balls to say it) that I am not a “twue Dom” or that I am a “wanna be Dom” (as a foolish and insipid former sub once referred to me) then so be it.

The reality is nothing is perfect. When I was reading that other blog I referenced earlier, it resonated with me on several levels. Because some of what she wrote has been told to me, personally. We all have off days and off moments when we doubt ourselves and what we are doing. It’s just the slaves and subs seem to be more honest and open about it.

While I have not had any such thoughts in a while, now and then it DOES happen. As I am learning, it’s natural. It’s part of the process. Even when I was happily married (for like those 5 or 6 days — LOL), there were times when I wanted to run away. I Love my son more than anything else on this planet, but there are times I’d like to drop kick his ass into the next garbage truck. Don’t even get me started on my mother.

As much pleasure as I get from all of this, from time to time it can be a bit much, and it is. Then, just as quickly as the frustration manifests, it goes away and the regularity of my life returns. Which is why I always say, don’t act out of anger. Because when that anger go away, the only thing you are left with is shit.

We build up these relationships to be some sort of Utopian vision of domestic bliss, when the reality is they are just like any other type of relationship. Yes, they are wonderful, but they can also make one’s ass itch. The itching, however, is temporary. But if it is consistent, then there are larger problems.

I think we all need to vent and purge now and then. I hope I don’t get kicked out of the Dom Club for saying any of this, but it needs to be said. Behind all the bravado and all the posturing is most likely a Dominant who sometimes gets just as frustrated as someone on the other end of it.

It’s called real life. Something I think many people could learn.

HNT - Marked

Sunday night, Arron did his best to leave me black and blue and I thought I’d share one of the more painful spots for this week’s HNT:

It doesn’t look like much, but this bruise has made sitting, standing and even pulling up pants, difficult to do without yelping…he did it with the side of his belt, leaving a wicked sore spot far more painful than the bruise would suggest.

And while you’re admiring the bruise, I’d like to take a moment and point out how difficult this picture was to take myself – thank goodness I am extra bendy…