Fire & Ice

I've bottomed to Tops, but no one has ever truly seen me surrender or submit.  Whatever glimpse they may have seen of something...it was/is nothing compared to how I instinctively respond to THAT beautiful, sexy Man.  With Him...I surrender and submit with everything I am and everything I wish I could be.  Under, guiding, grounding all of my practical personalities and acts of service, the Truth is... The very sight of Him can bring me to tears.   The smell of Him grounds and eases my spirit. His voice, my compass to bring me Home. His touch effortlessly reaches in and can either settle or shakes the depths of my soul. The taste of Him is my Redemption. To have Him fill me, take me, claim me is my Ascension to Divine transformation. My Truth is... I fuckin Worship That Man. The ground He walks on. The very air He breathes.   My surrender to Him, His will, His needs, His comfort, His well-being are my True North.   I am simply His Lioness, Alf...

Dread’s post and a conversation with my sister, Malika, has had me pondering the unlikely (for me) topic… the value of helplessness. Anyone who has met/engaged with me even on the most basic level would agree I am far from being anyone’s damsel in distress.  I am competent.  I am relatively self-sufficient.  I am fierce.  If cornered, I can be damn near fuckin dangerous.  I live, work, and conquer one of the most demanding and chaotic cities in the world.  I've faced countless shitty, insurmountable situations that I couldn't change, but I always had control of me.  I fought.  I hunkered down.  I changed course.  I did what I had to do to survive. However, numerous times 2024 kicked my ass and left me with no choice but to BE helplessness.  “BE.”  I couldn't fight or change course.  There was no surrender.  There was no give in.  There was no fuckin option.  Each time, I had zero say of my state.  Each ...

Another unexpected storm. This one a direct hit to my soul.  Neither of us were prepared for the morning to unleash a flood of inescapable no-win situations.  The turbulent winds of colliding actions and words battered the roots of my being, chipping away at my belief that solutions can be found if intent is authentic and forcing me to face a possible truth I didn’t want to see. Suddenly I was drowning in doubt.  Past experiences dragged me deeper and deeper into their haunting grip.  Maybe…no matter what I did, I would never be enough.  Maybe what I gave wasn't good enough.  That parts of me weren’t worthy of nurturing or exploration. That fundamental pieces of me would always be ignored and rejected because I just...couldn’t...inspire.   As quickly as the storm arrived, the wind, rain, and lightening ended, yet the chaos in its wake left me shaken to my core.  I was no longer sure what would be left intact once the sun rose again. ...

When He sends me back to the world I once considered my norm, it’s never pretty. I drop into fuckin savagery. Whether for a day or two or three, the civilized protocols and service I embrace when I'm with Him fall away as primal survival skills and a rudimentary existence rise once again to the surface. Last time the incessant eye twitch was the wake-up call that snapped me out of my relentless focus of the concrete path in front of me.  For hours I'd battled the mental and physical churn of Midtown's Friday rush hour madness, trying to accomplish my tasks, but the warning at my brow eventually registered, and I paused on the dark sidewalk amid the unending noise and flow of humanity to assess my body. My head throbbed. My breathing was shallow. Tension I used to carry daily but had forgotten about during the last few months had seeped into my shoulders and crawled up my neck. My hips, relaxed and at ease just that morning in His cave, now ached and begged to stretch in s...

It didn't matter that my whore had been in time-out, curled in a ball, mute, and non-responsive for two months. It didn't matter that I had no way of managing her urges and cravings, so I'd shoved her in a cage with multiple padlocks and starved her dumb ass. It didn't matter that I didn't trust her to meet expectation or control her aggressiveness.  It didn't matter that He'd shown no need for her shenanigans.  As He kissed me good-bye and shut the door of the truck, my whore woke with a vengence—wide-eyed and panting—from her self-imposed retreat, howling in her cage, begging to be released from confinement. My fingers trembled, and I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, trying in vain to focus on my next stop and the list of tasks I needed to complete.  Though absolute pure joy flowed through me at the thought of His pleasure and happiness, I fought the unexpected tsunami of electric sexual energy that roared in my veins.   I couldn’t catch my breath....

I find myself in unfamiliar territory.  This whole...actually being led thing.   Not in the bedroom. Not in some kinky-fuckery. Not in a litany of "Yes, Sir.  May I, Sir?" protocols. Not in put-on-a-sexy-dress. Not in oh-bring-me-food. Don't get me wrong... He does lead me in those ways.  Well... most anyway.  I'm not sure he even cares what I wear. lol  Those common leadership tactics are all ones I have experience in and can manage (on most days) to follow without stumbling or making an ass of myself.  On rare occasions, I might even succeed with some measure of grace.   The unfamiliar territory I mean is plain old Real Life—an area no one has dared try to lead me for... decades.  That was never what partners and I was doin.  They didn't have a Vision, the Desire, the Wisdom, the Strength, or the damn Authority to Guide, Nurture, Protect, let alone make Decisions that would have real world consequences regarding how I li...