FKJ feels like touch.
Not hands, exactly, but resonance.
Every loop settles me deeper into myself.
Bass lines sync my breath; keys stretch my shoulders open.
It’s what regulation feels like when someone finally holds rhythm for you.
That’s what I crave in a D-type.
Not command for command’s sake
I want containment that moves with me, not against me.
The same way FKJ builds a song
layer by layer, patient, responsive, always listening for the next inhale.
When the sound swells, I don’t brace.
I exhale.
Because I trust it not to drop me.
That’s how I want to be led.
Not controlled but conducted.
Guided like melody through chaos,
anchored without being silenced.
FKJ teaches my body what safety sounds like.
And that’s the kind of Dominance my soul recognizes
steady, attuned,
playing me open until I hum.