It's All Relevant

“Kiss her. Slowly, take your time, there’s no place you’d rather be. Kiss her but not like you’re waiting for something else, like your hands beneath her shirt or her skirt or tangled up in her bra straps. Nothing like that. Kiss her like you’ve forgotten any other mouth that your mouth has ever touched. Kiss her with a curious childish delight. Laugh into her mouth, inhale her sighs. Kiss her until she moans. Kiss her with her face in your hands. Or your hands in her hair. Or pulling her closer at the waist. Kiss her like you want to take her dancing. Like you want to spin her into an open arena and watch her look at you like you’re the brightest thing she’s ever seen. Kiss her like she’s the brightest thing you’ve ever seen. Take your time. Kiss her like the first and only piece of chocolate you’re ever going to taste. Kiss her until she forgets how to count. Kiss her stupid. Kiss her silent. Come away, ask her what 2+2 is and listen to her say your name in answer.”

— Azra.T “this is how you keep her”

Wishing You All A Happy Easter.

I’m not the person that I used to be. None of my exes would be able to identify me. I’ve grown flowers in a garden once filled with tainted soil. I think differently, I love differently, I fuck differently, I express myself differently. I am more courageous about taking risks with my time and my future. I am softer to strangers and those I hold dearest. I am more optimistic even though I know I will always be a realist at heart. Despite all of the growth, I am not yet the person I want to be. I will plant many more seeds in my garden of growth. I will embrace compassion. I will strive for empathy. I will take more time to be understanding. I will allow myself moments of reflection on the ways I have grown, but only long enough to grant myself the inspiration to become who I want to be

— the garden of my being

She stood in the bedroom waiting for him. She could feel her body trembling slightly, her anticipation building as she waited. Her arms outstretched, the blindfold eliminating any hope of her seeing what he had in store for her. All she had was his voice. His voice, low and soft, always so controlled and steady. He was deliberate in his method, slow in his approach, his calm always so hard for her to withstand. She didn’t dare move. He had told her to keep her legs wide and her head bowed. She didn’t dare disobey his command, even as she could feel her body shaking as he spoke of what he had in store for her. She could feel her wetness between her legs. She yearned for his touch but didn’t dare ask him to, that would only prolong his withholding of it. She could hear his voice coming closer, his voice right against her ear. Her chest rising and falling faster as he kissed her ear lobe, his mouth right against her ear. “Good girl”, her favorite words, filled the air. His hand taking her hair, their session beginning, her mind quieting as everything slipped away. Only the sound of his voice was her focus.

~M

Ever since I can remember scent has been my strongest sense. Walking through my grandmother's front door and the way her house smells always reminds me of my childhood. Then there are other scents, like the smell of fresh-cut grass (which I love), warm summer rain, the way the beach smells in the early morning when it's still empty and I'm the only one there. The way my children smelled when they were babies when I kissed their little heads at bedtime. Then we get to the way He smells. His cologne that only smells that way on him. I know this because like a fool I tried to buy it for someone else and got duped. I went in for the deep inhale and wham! It was different in every way it could be different. It lost that sweet lingering tease that tickled my nose and sent chills down my spine. It didn't make me melt into his arms. My clothes did not instantly fall off. No, this was all wrong. It was then that I started to realize that not only was the scent all wrong but so was everything else. We didn't talk for hours about art and love. The music that played in the background was off too. It sounded distorted, not like the sweet sounds that I had shared with Him before. Out of the blue, He would grab me by the small of my back and we would dance. All the while my face would be nestled in his chest inhaling the sweet smell that only came from him. It's been some time now since I've had the pleasure of that scent. Once in a blue moon, I'll catch a hint of it on someone. and it stops me in my tracks.

~M

Okay, so these are just a few songs I love from vinyl albums I've had over the years. 

* Let's Get It On ~ Marvin Gaye ~ Let's Get It On
* The First Taste ~ Fiona Apple ~ Tidal
* Happiness Is A Warn Gun ~ The Beatles ~ The Beatles
* I Can't Quit You, Baby ~ Led Zepplin ~ Led Zepplin
* Out On The Weekend ~ Neil Young ~ Harvest
* Say Goodbye ~ Dave Matthews Band ~ Crash
* Little Miss S ~ Edie Brickell ~ Shooting Rubberbands At The Stars
* Cornflake Girl ~ Tori Amos ~ Under The Pink
* Hearts And Bones ~ Paul Simon ~ The Essential Paul Simon
* Your Bright Baby Blues ~ Jackson Browne ~ The Pretender

...I never realized that you could fall in love with humans the way you fall in love with songs. How the tune of them could mean nothing you at first, an unfamiliar melody, but quickly turn into a symphony carved across your skin; a hymn in the web of your veins; a harmony stitched into the lining of your soul.

~Our Chemical Hearts by Krystal Sutherland

"The First Taste"~ Fiona Apple

I lie in an early bed thinking late thoughts
Waiting for the black to replace my blue
I do not struggle in your web
Because it was my aim to get caught

But daddy long legs
I feel that I'm finally growing weary
Of waiting to be consumed by you

Give me the first taste
Let it begin
Heaven cannot wait forever
Darling, just start the chase
I'll let you win
But you must make the endeavor

Oh, your love gives me a heart contusion
Adagio breezes fill my skin with sudden red
Your hungry flirt borders intrusion
I'm building memories on things we have not said

Full is not heavy as empty
Not nearly my love
Not nearly my love
Not nearly

Give me the first taste
Let it begin
Heaven cannot wait forever
Darling, just start the chase
I'll let you win
But you must make the endeavor

~Tether Me To Something I Love~

If submission is the teammate of Dominance then intelligence is the spoil of victory.

It is tempting to look at images of BDSM and sadomasochistic pornography and assume that a submissive or masochist must be either weak-willed or feeble of mind and heart to allow someone to use and even abuse them in such a manner. After all, what strong-minded or self-assured woman would submit them to the physical and emotional subjugation and even humiliation depicted in such imagery? Clearly, there must be something wrong with a person who allows themselves, nay even seeks out, such treatment. But not so fast, there is much more than meets the eye.

It is true that domineering men who hide their insecurities behind the bluster, bravado, or even violence often seek out weak or meek women as not only their foil but also sadly their emotional and physical punching bags. It is tragic and sadly all too common throughout the world in all forms of “relationships,” vanilla and BDSM alike. Often such men want nothing more than a human lap dog that will dutifully stand by their side regardless of behavior only to be kicked, ignored, and emotionally malnourished. The domineering prick wants the illusion of control to shine through for everyone around them to see as a boost to their fragile ego but never wants to be outshone or upstaged. They want their dog healing and panting at their side when it is convenient for them and out of sight and mind when it is not. It's a sad state of affairs all around and particularly for dependent or even co-dependent women who are subjected to and nearly held prisoner by such domineering behavior. Sadly, there are many of these domineering men who pose as Dominants and candidly give the BDSM and D/s community a bad rap.

So let me be clear. A Dominant has no need for, nor a desire for, a lap dog. Nothing could be more painfully boring or unfulfilling to a Dominant than a codependent or weak-willed or minded lapdog of a submissive. A great part of the reward of submission to a Dominant is that it must be earned from a very worthy source. It may even be an outright challenge. By this, I do not mean the brat submissive who is really a top and challenges every move a Dominant makes seeking to find the “One” who is tough enough to beat her at her own game. That is really just Dominance or more likely domineering in disguise. I am referring to patiently and lovingly earning the submission of a woman who is strong, intelligent, self-assured, capable, as well as beautiful, sensual, and sexually adventuresome. That is where the true reward lies.

When I look down at my submissive kneeling before me I do not wish to see a cowering dog. No, I want to see the glimmer of intelligence in her eye, the knowing look that she could be anything she wants to be in this life but chooses to be here, at my feet. I want to know that she appreciates my own intellect and can match it step for step. I want a challenge not only from her body but also from her mind. I want to have to work for the submission I receive. Not fight over it, earn it. I want a submissive worthy of my Dominance every bit as much as I strive to be worthy of her submission. Ultimately I want a partner who is as interesting and challenging to talk with, go places with, and experience life with as she is sexy, submissive, devoted, and serving. I want her to push me as much as I push her. I want a partner, not an automaton
.
But I am a guy and like most men can be visually driven. I would be lying if I did not say that looks matter to me, that appearance plays a significant role in attraction. But looks alone only draw me closer in curious exploration and no more. Sexiness, sensuality, and overall attraction do not come from appearance alone. They are a state of mind. And there is nothing more sexy and sensual to me than a highly intelligent woman who is confident and curious about life, herself, her sexuality, and other people. An outgoing, intelligent, articulate, and confident woman combined with a natural curiosity and desire for exploring and enhancing her sensuality is a lethal combination for me. Add a touch of submissiveness or even a desire to submit and I am slain. The secret sauce though is in the heart and mind.

An intelligent Dominant will always seek an equally intelligent submissive. They desire a partner to dance the D/s dance with who is challenging (not combative), yet devoted. The rewards of submission are commensurate with the effort. Intelligence combined with sensual beauty is a prize worth every ounce of effort a Dominant can muster. Ultimately, when my Muse outshines me and is the center of everyone else’s attention and focus it is not an affront to me but instead perhaps the ultimate compliment. For it is a submissive who shows for all to see exactly what sort of Dominant they kneel before.

Caption © For The Love of a Submissive

*This is one of the best articles I've ever read on the topic. So I wanted to share it.

 Tink's Fetish, By Christopher Lane

"BDSM is like visiting a kinky Amusement Park. Once you pay the entry fee, you hop on an erotic roller coaster of deviant self-discovery. Although I have the threat of pain before me, I’m not even close to wanting to get off of this ride. It’s such a fucking thrill. Or is that a thrilling fuck? Whatever. Either way, it’s as hot as hell."

― Nikki Sex, Kink