Kinking It Real

I wanted to return not with a bang…but a whimper.

I’ve been very calloused with myself lately. Harboring a lot of tensions, stress, and somehow grief. No one has passed away, well except a part of me. I tried to kill off a piece of me that I constantly am reminded that I cannot live without. Tonight was my first shadow session addressing not just childhood trauma and past workings…but my incessant need to hide when emotional. Today I sat with it. Then allowed myself to be affirmed. Then I wrote, well typed. I am going to be doing a lot of work moving forward. But I somehow feel more ready. I’d like to start with sharing my thoughts I pondered today. Not for validation, or anything log that nature. I’ve searched for that long enough, it’s time to give it to myself. No, I’d like to share so that just in case someone else feels this way. Maybe someone else is struggling with these realizations. Hopefully, there are those who can also offer GENUINE insight. 

Surrender

I have been holding this anger

An anger I didn’t know plagued me until the moment I felt moved to write this.

I’ve been running

Running away from things I didn’t realize were begging to be recognized, accepted.

Everyone else can see it

Well those who look deep enough or hold compassion in an endless supply.

People who are also, in a way, like me

I don’t mean submission either, but I’ll get back to that.

See, there is a vulnerability inside my very being that I always hide. I purposely take up more space, am louder, more robust with my expressions and movement. The stereotypical black woman.

But I wasn’t always her. The true essence of my being was like a more whimsical darkly romantic version of tinker bell.

Oh I really truly thought myself to be a fairy. And I fear I’ve killed her off from lack of attention.

Her light sputtering, silently pleading to be let out, to be admired….to be loved.

I thought she wasn’t good enough, too soft, too feminine.

As if I wasn’t allowed to be those things.

I convinced myself that since I am a 5’9 dark-skinned black woman I should “play my role”.

I’ve come to realize that that has only served to make me miserable.

Which brings me full circle.

I surrender.

I am allowing myself to truly step into my “soft-girl” era or whatever. And not just saying as a hashtag.

Surrendering to my emotions

Surrendering to my whimsy

Surrendering to my femininity

Surrendering back into submission.

I forgot that it wasn’t a role I could cast aside.

There’s a creator I follow, and I feel it fate in a way to have crossed his platform. He reintroduces me into the community again and reminded me my hunger for it. Why that hunger burns so hot and runs so deep for me.

Submission is me, not just how I react, not just accepting a role, being obedient to orders or rituals. But an integral part of how I process myself and the world around me. And for a while I thought having an alter that was more Dominant meant I had to learn how to tune out the parts of me that loves to surrender. A whole 2/3 of me. I will now be in a period of life that allows myself to allow myself to capitulate.

Truly relinquish the shackles of this faced I’ve been holding over myself and allow myself to feel, think, process, and eventually accept my reality and the things in it on the same profound level I had before.

There’s something weighing on me, and sadly it’s not the weight of a hand wrapped around my neck. I wish it were…and I think that’s what’s wrong. I think…I’ve been away from the scene too long. Although for good reason now I feel…hungry. I want to devour and be devoured. I also I feel a sense of caution. 

I want to be devoured yes but I also want to draw clear lines. I need someone to be able to communicate and not just sex.

Besides the serious problem of above mentioned there’s the source of my sexual frustration. Femme power. And not in the sense of exuding it. I want to be over powered by a Goddess, other than the one residing within. I want that hand that’s tightly wrapped around my neck in my imagination to be a that of a woman’s. I want her wet, dripping heat to be pressed against my lips, and I mean both the ones on my face and the ones between my legs. I want to be called her pretty slut while she teases and mocks me. 

But then the scene in my head will drift. And that hand will become a hard callous one. Soft, teasing laughs turn to hard growls and the gentle toying turns to rough torment. Possessive greedy hands. Hungry eyes devouring me. Greedy hands clutching me.

As you can see my type for Dommes and Doms vary drastically and yet…

I want to be devoured in both these ways

Both separately and together.

I think….I’m going crazy.

Raw Beauty: you don’t see it if you don’t know where to look. 
It’s not the make up she wears, even minimally

The dress she slips on

The heels she struts in

Its her CONFIDENCE

The way she SMILES like she knows all eyes are on her

The way she caresses her own curves because she knows she is beauty reincarnated

Its her laugh

Its the twinkle in her eyes

It is her

SHE is raw beauty

To see this you must truly look and SEE her.

Small short story. I just want to see how the public perceives it before continuing more. 

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The warmth of my covers is nowhere near to the heat that radiates from your embrace. There is an underlying fire in every stroke of your fingers, in the very way your eyes trail over my body. Lust is prominent it snatches my breath and makes my clit throb. My mouth has never watered for any man and yet when I look at you…. mmm when I look at you with half lidded eyes, my lips already parted, you know exactly what I want. You see it in the way my gaze is locked on your throbbing cock. You see it in the way my knees part more, the way my kneel becomes more relaxed. When my head falls back, and you brush your fingers down my neck down, down, down until you reach and tug my nipples. I’m putty in your hands. Do as you like with me. I want to ease your stress, feed into your desires…satisfy your cravings.

Embrace me, don’t let me escape. I want to be trapped in a spiral of your sadistic pleasures. To be lifted into heaven only to be yanked to the ground. All by your hand. Make me me beg, please, scream, and whimper. All in one session. The high I get from your touch, no your voice, maybe even simply your gaze, sets a fire under me. My inner slut comes out only to dance in the light of the fire. She loves your gaze being fixated on her, on us…on me. She is me after all. The sway of my hips, the rise of my breasts with each breath. The hunger in your eyes is predatory and oh how I love being your prey. Do you enjoy watching me? The glow of my ebony skin under the light, the glisten of my dripping mess down my luscious thighs? Or maybe it’s my sweet scent, when you grip my hair and run your tongue down my neck? The way I smell of chocolate and strawberries? Or maybe you smell my arousal, how turned on I am…how horny you make me? I want to splay myself across the sheets, on full display for you. I’m sure you know I crave to be devoured.

Even in all my clouded thoughts, I have the desire to make you crave me as I do you. The way I arch my back, the way I flutter my lashes. Even the lotions and perfumes. You love my soft skin smelling of sweets and treats. I do it to entice you, like a siren calling a sailor. Only I draw you in to feel your touch. A caress of lips trailing kisses along my inner thighs. The nearly bruising grip on my hips that feels so delicious. You don’t need to be gentle. You know this when your kisses turn to nibbles and those to bites. The Predator has caught his prey and is ready to feast. And feast you do. You lick at my sopping pussy as if my juices will quench a deep rooted thirst. You suck on my clit as if it’s dessert. Diving your tongue so deep into my messy hole, your face is buried between my thighs as if you’ve come home. Your moans…mmmm the moans I hear are so yummy they make my thighs quiver. It’s so good I can’t take it. I have to try and put space, get break…but I’m truly caught and you aren’t letting me go until you’re satisfied.

Pleasure is such a funny thing. I’ve been chasing it all night I forgot you know how to weapon use it. My pleas and begging fall on deaf ears. You love when I cry, when I run. You get a sadistic twinkle in your eye, like a bold dare. You want me to fight and beg. Because when you finally break me, it’ll be so delicious. And break me you do. That firery feeling is back and I feel as though someone has dripped hot wax on my clit. It hurts so good I’ll cream, or scream, maybe both. It’s both, always both. And your strong grip keeps my hips in place as you slowly finger fuck the orgasm out of me. Your thumb playing with my clit and pussy juice squirting out of me. It’s embarrassing but it feels so good. My pussy walls are throbbing and pulsing and you laugh to yourself every time you feel me quiver. I always cry when you do this. Not the light laughter, no. The tears come after the pleasure becomes so great I can only see stars. You know what comes after the tears. CRAVINGS….

Should I continue you this mini series. It’s a little insight to how I fall into sub space. I’m kinda feeling like I want to share it with you guys.
 

As I grow and discover new parts of myself, I find that there are pieces of the past I struggle to make peace with. Me writing this is my way of making peace. I’m not a strong verbal communicator, my words get twisted up and I use the wrong ones in times when I need the write ones the most. However. After thought and effort I can typically express my thoughts, nearly effortlessly in writing. So here I am. 

My past has been haunting me recently. There was trauma I blamed myself for as a child, relationships I stepped back from, blaming myself all the while. You see I struggle with realizing that my presence is a gift whether that be in my submission, dominance, or just living outside of kink and bdsm. There are many around me who say they miss the old me, and for a while I did as well. She didn’t confront people, went with the flow, kept her head down, and was meek and always so willing to help. However, she didn’t know how much of a gem she was. Smart, talented in more aspects other than what she can do for others, and above else kind. She is someone with a healing heart and  wild soul, free spirit. Who she chooses to let in should be done so carefully. Fear controlled her every move. Fear of not being enough, fear of failing, fear of rocking the boat or creating waves. As fearful as she still is she is also tired. Tired of hearing that the woman she grows into is for naught as people pine for her old docile ways. She is tired. No longer will she serve u less the dynamic also serves her. Not in the sense of topping from the bottom but in the sense that of the relationship is harmful in anyway it is not the relationship she needs to indulge in. Her time is precious. She is me.

I will no longer just idly be. Maybe it’s due to me discovering strength in not just submission but dominance as well…but I no longer feel the need to bend over backwards to serve others. Instead I am quick to ask what can you do for me. I don’t mean this in a material way. I’m financially stable with a place of my own and don’t need to be provided Ed for. So now it’s a matter of I’m here and giving my Dominance or submission because I want to, no longer because I need to. Although I need the expression of each I will no longer line after dynamics that don’t serve me. It must nourish me in some way mentally, spiritually, emotionally. I want to be moved by the connection.

I will not be returning to the lost, scared girl for anyones comfort. I am sincerely sorry to those who I hurt with this, who I’ve hurt in the past as someone hurting myself, and to anyone who is mourning the girl I used to be. I am not sorry for changing. For molding into a woman I can live with and love everyday. It is a wonderful feeling to begin to love yourself and I will no longer give that feeling up for ANYONE. I no longer feel the need to be a people pleaser. If you are not pleased by my presence I will no longer make myself smaller or less bright. Even in my submission I am a Queen and will now behave as such. Being a switch submissive does not mean I need to be meek. Furthermore as I discover more aspects of my Domme energy I will no longer allow myself to be meek. Seeing both sides of the spectrum I feel it takes more strength to totally submit to someone anyhow, therefore in my mind submission and weakness/meekness no longer go hand in hand. I will not return to anyone I e stepped away from as I feel like I need yo look forward to the new connections I will make as I heal and learn on this journey. I am sorry for those who may feel hurt or abandoned by this but I must start doing for myself what I would have done for others: leave, heal, spoil myself.

So, I’ve been debating on bringing this up but my alter Lilith says I’m depriving her of her Domme instincts so I’m going to introduce her. I’ve been aware of this alter since I was about 14 and she has always been the Domme of the group out of the three of us. She’s into many of the things that me and Babygirl are into. Up until this point you all have been interacting with my main alter, Tay, and Babygirl, my little and brat side. She can and will at times come out on her own without me needing to call her. She is very vocal. If you do not think that she exists, well that’s fine. Neither me nor the rest of my alters need validation to exist. No there is no interlocking relationship between my alters and I other than our friendship bonds. If you have any, all questions are welcome.

Hello, I’m very pleased to meet all of you finally. I’m excited to meet and ensnare a submissive of my own. Hopefully they’re a good little puppy that’ll listen to Mommy. And yes I do like to have my title capitalized, not right away but after I’ve began training it’ll be a must.

UMM SORRY SHES VERY DEPRIVED IGNORE HER. But no really she takes this lifestyle very seriously.

Uncontrollable.

Building and burning inside me like a dangerous fire

wanting to be consumed and controlled

these thoughts running in my head become dire

and yet I can’t stop.

An ache in my belly that spread

a moan parting my lips

clouds forming in my head

large calloused hands on my hips

and yet I can’t reach the top

Ive been trapped in an endless needy cycle and I crave to hear the words every slut wants to hear. I’ve been in desperate need of attention.

It seems my day is filled with fake Doms today. However I felt the need to create another post for this one. See the problem is the fact that this Dom can’t seem to understand when I say no. It’s merely an age thing. I don’t care how experienced you are, if you fall past the age limit that I have for myself I will not consider you as a Dom simply because the age gap is startling for me and uncomfortable. I’ve blocked this user but ladies and gentleman if you receive a message like this one don’t hesitate to block. If they don’t get it the first couple times you say no they won’t ever get it. It’s like an incessant need they have to try to show ownership simply cuz they are “Doms”. Beware of these Doms they’re just as fake as the ones who label you disrespectful because you rejected them. I’ll be taking down the screenshots so as not to have my blog reported but I still stand where I stand

I thought that I would be able to keep this blog free of the main problem I’m starting to see: fake Doms and red flags. I have recently encountered what I think might be a fake Dom. See I had received a message that stated, and I quote, “I can’t wait to win you.” I don’t know about others but for me, upon receiving a message I prefer one where I’m greeted nicely, even though I’m a submissive, I want to be acknowledged as a person first. Second the lack of greeting or any information about yourself or even a question regarding something on my profile let’s me know you aren’t wanting to get to know me, if so I’m not sure by statements like the one above. Third, upon visiting his profile there was a significant lack of information on him as a person, as a Dom, and what his kinks and limits generally were. I did notice however that he wants more than one sub. I’m greedy and don’t like sharing so when messaging back I made it clear where I stand. Below I will post a pic of my message I sent. He had replied to that message by calling me disrespectful and stating he wouldn’t want me....yet had said he wanted to own me. I urge all submissives to be wary of Doms like him. They most likely only want one thing. In the comment section I’d like for all, both Doms and subs, to please tell me if my message was truly disrespectful. 

I know I’m not as pretty as other girls....Usually I’m happy with who I am. I can love myself with no problem. Lately....it’s been scary. I can feel my resolve cracking. I look around and it seems all the subs....no women.... who are good girls and desirable are skinny, not colored, short.....beautiful. Next to them I feel average, maybe pretty. Who would choose daisies over roses. Yeah, I’ve been cheated on(just like the picture says) they all were girls that were shorter, long hair, skinny.....white. The opposite of me. So I’ve been doubting myself. I don’t have a daddy that can put me back together if I fall apart so this....this is scary. Scary to the point where even in little space I don’t feel like a genuine little