Let Us Pray

‘What are you doing?’ He asks her.

They’re in her bedroom, away from the world. Him, 26 and her, 17.

She’s closed the door behind her, unbuttoning her plain white work blouse button by button.

He can already glimpse the lace detail of the black bra beneath her.

‘Dear God…’ She says, unbuttoning another button.

‘Thank you for bringing Henry to me in my time of need.’

Another button comes undone. Two to go.

His eyes want to sink down and take in how her small breasts are kept hidden behind the cups of her bra, but there’s something in her eyes – something dangerous. Manic.

‘Thank you…for this moment together, O Lord”

One button to go.

‘And in all the moments that have come before.’

The last button is gone. Her eyes, greyish blue, are locked on to his as she peels away the blouse, revealing a lightly tanned stomach, freckles sprawling sporadically across the skin. The blouse floats down to the floor.

Her hands are reaching down to her jeans, unzipping the fly.

‘Alex…’

‘Please instil with me the p…the power, God..’

‘Power’ comes on loose lips, wiggling out of her shaky voice. Her voice is airy, dreamy. Possessed.

‘The power to be good. To do good. To be better.’

Alex is wriggling out of her jeans. They fall to her knees, revealing pale legs and skimpy black lace panties.

She kicks the jeans off to the floor.

‘And please watch over me, over us, and fill our hearts with love and magic. And passion.’

She unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor, revealing her bare breasts, her dark areola. Goosebumps trailing across her skin. The slightest hint of veins running beneath, pumping blood through her body, silky warm.

‘I’m thankful for what you’ve shown me, God, and who…you’ve ‘ – the words catch on her throat, her chest tightens as she breathes, excited and nervous. ‘Brought to me.’

She hooks her fingers around the waistband of her panties and slides them down, revealing the thin line of hair marking her slit.

‘Amen.’

Her eyes never break contact.

——————————————-

For some reason it came to me – the idea of a religious teenager praying to god while undressing for the person she lusts after. I found the psychological interplay – her eyes on him, in command, betraying the idea of religion or subverting it in a wholly different environment – to be very sexy. Hopefully you enjoy it too!

Do What Makes You Feel Alive / Late Night Ramblin’

As I sit here, half naked in front of a fan to avoid the scorching Australian summer, half trying to tiredly map out Valhalla chapters, a thought comes to my mind.

I’ve been on my Tumblr, scrolling through my feed, ghosts of stories coming to me from the remnants of safe-for-work semi-sexual pictures and I think to myself – we need to do what makes us happy. We have to be in it, whatever IT is, for ourselves.

I mean, when I was starting out as a Dominant and I was on Fetlife looking for answers, everyone had their own code, built up from whatever they felt right – and that’s fine. Everyone has their own customised role from the pre-established basic rules of BDSM and it’s many dynamics. But I struggled to find what was right for me.

The thing is, you need to – we need to – follow our own hearts and minds and desires and see where that leads, especially when it comes to our interests in BDSM. Sure we might fall. Sure we might hurt ourselves or even someone we love, but if such an event occurs, there is an opportunity to learn from that. And with learning comes growth.

I almost didn’t start this blog you know? I thought for sure that there were other, more experienced people – experienced Dominants, male or female – though I confess, I did initially think ‘experienced dominant males’. I mean, I thought: Oh I’m some joe blow from down under, I’m 26, what do I know? What can I add to the table?’ – I still think this.

I still think – what have I got to offer, even now? After all these years? I don’t know. But I’m not the point – the point is – you can’t think like that. You can’t afford to.

Who cares who is more experienced? We all grow, we all adapt and learn in different ways. At different times. We all bloom as flowers in different seasons – and we all make our own way.

More importantly, our differences are validated and can be thought of as unique. And difference can be beautiful to behold. I know that from learning the slow, slow SLOW way.

So, lurkers and readers I don’t hear from, don’t be too hard on yourself. Don’t compare. Don’t dwell. Try not to ruminate on how others run their lives – you’ll only find that leads to torment. Focus on what makes you laugh, what makes you giddy. What makes you alive.

Goodnight world. Sleep tight.

My Growth As a Dominant

A few days ago (I think, the beginning of the year always feels like a non-linear sequence of events) I put out a Q/A type deal, just in case anybody new had questions or anybody wanted to ask something relating to a story or anything like that.

And a reader posed a question to me via email and it was a good one. I wanted to write about it on the blog because it’s something I’ve spoken about before – but not in depth.

Before I do though, I just want to say. If you’re reading this and you do have a question but feel like it’s too weird or personal to ask, just know that I really don’t mind – so far no one, in the years I’ve been writing this blog, has asked a question I haven’t been able to openly answer. So please, don’t fret if you’re out there and on the fence. I welcome it.

As for the question, it was in regards to my dominance. You see, the first dominant thing I experimented with was degradation and humiliation. It wasn’t spanking or cuffs or my belt or anything like that, it was this very raw, very psychological act.

The reader was interested as to why? Normally it’s the other way around – people start with a little light spanking or maybe a little dirty talk.

The answer is that it happened in a strange and organic way. My then-girlfriend and I, we just happened to be communicating via computer when our two sides seemed to awaken – and we experimented with every vulgarity then AND when we met up the next day.

Even when we realised something was happening between us, I don’t recall memories of spanking or bondage. Strangely, though, I do recall experimenting with exhibitionism, roleplaying, setting tasks and protocol and knife play. We seemed to jump right in the deep end of the pool, having sex outdoors or in cars, setting psychological tasks like masturbating loudly at home or risking getting caught or other aspects.

Why? I would say because we didn’t really know any better. We were 17 – young and dumb, excited about risk taking and the defined boundaries of BDSM – or BDSM safety were lost on us. We only had our sense of morality on what was right or wrong for us – and luckily we were safe through it all.

The things I have learned about myself, about what was right and what was wrong, about what I like, I have learned from encounters and friends in my twenties along the way. I have also learned to be a better man and a better dominant through my relationship with my kitten, who has helped me learn from any mistakes I make and who has been there to help me be more attentive and intuitive.

My 2018 in Review

2018 was the beginning of many things for me – I had began an odyssey into a new career for starters and my lady and I moved deeper into our relationship, inside D/s and outside, about ourselves and how we relate to one another.

Then there was mentoring. Where once I was too shy and insecure to think that I, of all people, could mentor, Now I felt I could be of some assistance to people, new to the lifestyle or just looking for advice.

It was a year of maturity and of things in my life, me most of all, maturing.

Confidence grew in our relationship, in both of us, to be more vocal about our wants and needs. This came about by experiencing the daily grind of life – work and tiredness leading to forgetfulness, to personas leading to a vanilla week, which – while not terrible – was lacking for both of us. Which in turn led to truths and love deepening and strengthening and – Kink reigniting in the most explosive and passionate ways. It was a realisation that life and moods can fluctuate but that we were strong together, more now then ever.

Mentoring taught me lessons too. The most important of all, really, is that I can’t help everyone. I can only be there as much I can – that the rest is up to the individual or the couple.

I learned to teach and be informative in a way that was objective rather than personal. I had to be conscious that I wasn’t just being biased towards links or tastes, that I was speaking freely about all manners.

In turn I made a lot of wonderful acquaintances, some for a month before life’s distractions got in the way, others in the long term. All of them wonderful and lovely. Some as long as they needed.

Oh and I surprised myself. I discovered that teaching or helping or mentoring or being there is very important to me. That I may need it as much as the individual, that it speaks to my soul. I never felt impatient or bored, I felt ready to give my all. Sometimes I even felt Daddy-like, nurturing in a way. Eager to guide.

It’s true I’m still painfully awkward, but I do my best hoping I don’t sound like a creep or – worst case scenario – unhelpful.

So in the end, 2018 was about maturity for me, in myself and in my relationship and in other aspects of my life as well.

Where 2019 goes, I have no idea. I only hope it’s as filled with warmth and love as last year and that I continue to meet wonderful strangers, questions or no questions!

And to you, dear readers, here’s to making beautiful memories in your year! I hope it’s a year of magic and wonder and laughter!

End Of Year Q/A! AMA!

After two seperate encounters this week, one in which a reader wrote in mentioning they wanted to write to me but wasn’t sure how to – and the other, talking to a new submissive about the very meaning of rules and protocol in a D/s relationship, I realise just how hard it is for someone – young or old – to sort out their feelings and to understand just what it is they’ve been trying to describe.

So since I didn’t do a November Q/A or AMA and there have been a few new followers from Tumblr since it’s purging of adult content (Welcome!), I thought I’d create this space for newcomers or people who have questions to ask them here or if they choose, at my email at darkanddominant@hotmail.com

Let me be honest – I’m writing this now for two reasons – the first because I will get a message in which the author apologises profusely for bugging me or taking up my time or for writing at length – and it doesn’t bother me at all. Not one iota. So reading that I can understand, but it certainly still breaks my heart.

The second because it occurred to me (as it does at several intervals in the year) how easy it can be to get lost inside your own head in a D/s relationship, especially if you’re young and new to the lifestyle – or just don’t know who to talk to.

It can be easy to take for granted what I know – but I forget – it doesn’t come easily to someone new.

To that end, please PLEASE feel free to write as much or as little as you’d like. No email is too long, no comment is too meandering. I don’t judge on naivety or inexperience and I certainly don’t shame or think people silly for their thoughts.

I can also use any questions in a forthcoming post so that it can be informative for anyone that has an interest in that line of questioning.

12 Days of Kinkmas – Day #12 – The Dreamer

They were real to him. Every one of them.

When he slept they knelt by his ear, whispering their wicked delights, lamenting their haunted lives.

They crowded the room, waiting for their time, their chance to speak, to be heard.

When he woke, they appeared before him, always in his bedroom, in his living room, dressed from another life, waiting just for him. Waiting to continue.

When he wrote, they appeared in his dreams, guiding him as their lives fell from their lips in smooth velvet voices.

Their lives, their memories, their existence were as real, as living and breathing and flesh and blood and messy and alive as his existence was.

When he was done, they’d smile and leave the room, out of sight and out of mind, gone but immortalised, leaving room for the next of them to visit.

12 Days of Kinkmas: Day #11 – “A Kitten for Christmas”

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She kept the best gift for last.
After all was unwrapped on their quiet Christmas morning, after they had their breakfast together – coffee and blueberry bagels – she disappeared into the spare room of their first house together, pulling open the cupboard door and reaching up over head to grab the box with the red and white stripes pattern.
She returned to him waiting on the couch patiently, hands in lap, and gently sat the box down in his lap.
“What’s this?” He asked, eyeing the box suspiciously.

She knew he didn’t like surprises – and something in her delighted in this small twist of fun she was doing to him – but she nodded towards him in a gesture that said open it and see.
He did so, carefully lifting the lid with both arms to see — the contents wrapped in plain gold wrapping paper.
He sighed, the way he knew she found funny, and paid no mind to the delicate wrapping paper, tearing it free and finding –
Cat ears around a headband.
He pulled it out of the box, running his hands over the black fuzz on the ears.
She couldn’t supress the smile on her face, it spread like wildfire, her cheeks taking the full brunt of the force.
Below the cat ears was a pink collar, as soft and fuzzy as the ears, with a little silver pendant attached reading Kitten.

“Interesting…just your size.”
He placed the collar on the cat ears – there was more to come.
Below the collar was a medium sized butt-plug, sleek and black. Attached to the end of it was a cat tail, soft and fuzzy (again) with a white stripe down the middle of it. All of this bought for just $79.99 – though he would never know that.
“I…must say. I am lost for words.”
She knew this, could tell this, from just the sound of his voice. He had this tone about him when he couldn’t find the words. It was a sweet feature. Genuine and shy and honest.

She could tell he liked it though, she could see thatin his eyes, the way they lit up with mischief, his mind going a million miles an hour just thinking of the possibilities.
Before she could talk about it, before she could say what was on her mind or even address how they’ve both been wanting to explore this part of themselves for the better part of their busy year, he was already getting up, pink fuzzy collar in hand.
“May I…Or would you rather –“

She was already brushing the intruding hair out of her eyes and behind her neck before he could finish.
With the collar attached, warm and snug around her neck, she felt truly at home – comfortable. At peace. She could tell by the way his eyes were beginning to glass over at he was at the same spot she was.

He put his arm around her and drew her in for a cuddle.