The Ideal Dominant


I have always wanted to be collared, to be owned, to submit fully to someone I can trust. But finding that Master is harder than finding a good man. There are many wonderful men, but not all inspire submissiveness in a woman. Is it masculinity? Is it that hard edge and decisive authority combined with protective tenderness? An intriguing mix of lust and trust? A Dom has to be so many things.

I read this online somewhere, and I liked it, so I’m putting it here. Maybe someday he will come to me.

“The Dominant should be in control of himself first and foremost. He is confident, caring, and understanding. He does not allow ego to get in the way of learning, both about himself and his submissive. He knows how to love. And how to cherish the gift given to him.

When the Dominant meets a new submissive He is kind and guiding without demanding ritual of Her. He does not demand respect, he earns it. He explores her mind first, learning her strengths. He does not seek to seduce her, but gets to know her as a person first, building a relationship, slowly discovering if there is to be one.

If he is a good Dominant he does not do this to gain another submissive, but only because he is able to befriend someone, without the trappings of sexuality. He is not a predator, but a teacher, willing to pass his knowledge with little or no reward, but the pleasure of knowing he can, and the satisfaction of helping someone define their own path.

If the time comes when she offers herself to His service, The Dominant is the first to question her decision, to ask her to look into herself and discover if He is what she really wants. He is the first to mention Safety, to volunteer References, and to tell her to seek more. He supports safe calls and public meetings first, her safety is foremost in His mind at this beginning.If He decides to take the submissive into service, he is the first to mention negotiation, to offer his own personal information. He realizes the danger she could be placed in the wrong hands, and seeks to Guide her in protecting herself. He does not dismiss her worries, for he knows her risks are all to real.

He knows his safety also depends on Honesty, on communication. He is at first only as protective of himself he needs to need be, but open and honest about his life, tastes, what he expects, he knows that she will be taking a leap of faith, and is supportive of her.

To possess her, he knows he must first earns her respect. To do this, he must prove he is what he says he is, that he cares for her, that he would push her limits only to build her strengths, that he is willing to spend the time to learn her as a Person first, then as a submissive. He knows how wonderful this gift is that she offers, and is willing to live up to her trust in him.

To this end, he talks with her, learning her secret needs and desires, and in turn expressing his own, always ready to affirm her worth, to him ,and to herself , increasing her confidence in herself , and in the gift she gives, gently pushing her limits to show her she can be more than she feels she is, that she can go farther than she ever thought possible. Slowly opening the flower of her submission, coaxing her passion for him into full bloom.

If she lacks self esteem, he shows her he respects her, and finds her worthy of his time. He shows her she has beauty in his eyes, thus she is beautiful. He focuses on her strengths, to show her of her own power, He softly explains that the gift she gives is the most wonderful gift of all, Herself.

He takes the time to learn her Soul, before thinking of learning her body, as the Dominant learns his new submissive, a connection takes place allowing Him to sense her desires, her needs, her passions. With this new knowledge, the Dominant is able to take his Submissive to new heights of pleasure, to guide her and walk with her as together they seek new levels of love and fulfillment.

In taking a submissive into his service the Dominant takes on many responsibilities. He pledges to help guide her in her path, not only in the bedroom, but in life. He pledges to be there for her when she needs Him, to care for her, ease her pain when she is depressed, comfort her when she is ill, assist her in overcoming her fears and worries, to hold and love her when she needs affection.”



Sex is not a goddamn performance

This powerful piece comes from a Facebook friend, Michael Jenkins. It’s so brutally honest and resonant, I had to share it. Enjoy!

amorous couple making love in bed

Sex is not a goddamn performance. Sex should feel as natural as drinking water. It should not require confidence.

Sex should happen, because the moment is ripe. Ripening lips, ripening labia, ripening cock, ripening pupils, ripening state of being. Ripe and augmented and brimming. Your energy goes to your pumping heart, then to every external nerve, then to theirs, on fire.

You bask, roll, play in it. You sigh, moan, laugh. It’s not about being good in bed. It’s about being happy.

One should never worry if they’re doing it correctly. Sex is not factual. I don’t want your cookie-cutter sex, I don’t want your meticulously crafted, calculated, fool-proof fuck. I don’t want a show. I want you. Let your instincts, urges and whims define that. It’s enough.

What do most girls like? Forget about it. Statistics are meaningless when there’s only one. Hello, here’s me. Here’s you. Don’t worry about taking it too slow. We got time. We got infinite rhythms, combinations, possibilities. Explore each fuck. Take our time. We can do a different one later.

Don’t worry about making me come. I’m here. Right where I want to be. I am overwhelmed by wanting; you don’t have to convince me. I want you because I like you. So don’t put on a front. Don’t taint this.

I’m frustrated—it’s just authenticity I want. It’s originality. It’s passion. It’s joy. Don’t say that something I like is ugly. Don’t compare yourself to the rest. You will live and die with and within your experiences like everyone else. If someone thinks you are amazing, they are not wrong. Their universe is as real as any other; it is forged through perception.

I don’t care if you accidentally slammed my head into the wall, if you slipped out, if my arm cracked, if the delightful pressure of your wet lips on my anything made a silly sound. There is no right way and no wrong way.

Good in bed. What? You’re good in my bed. I’m pleased you’re there. I feel it suits you. Shove your technique. Let your memory swallow it. Fuck me like you’d fuck me, fuck me like you feel. This isn’t a test.

Wanton Sex

Yes. The kind of sex we ultimately crave with a beautiful lover – intensely charged, uninhibited, and exhilarating. Is there anything more wondrous than the fevered union of two mutually attracted souls?

When desire reaches such ferocity, the sensory joy of every “twitch, thrust, and caress” is preciously augmented.

Does the excitement come from the lover, the circumstance or a perfect compatibility?

Wanton sex often strikes in the realm of discovery, heightened by the thrill of the chase and the unknown. But for some lucky ones with the right sexual fit, this wild intensity can be savored repeatedly in a stable and intimate relationship.

For sapiosexuals, the mating of the minds must come first. Intellectually the sparks must fly. And then, only then will the explosive coupling be possible. The whole imagination becomes the playground where mutual shared fantasies stoke the passions and enhance the bonding. This is the kind of sex that stays in your memory.

Merry Christmas and happy fucking.

Excerpt from XXXombies: Chapter One

Here’s a peek into XXXombies: In Death, Pleasuring is for Life. The book is up on Amazon:

Attractive beauty posing.

Kirsten looked up at the man standing before her. Her greenish-gold eyes burned with a manic iridescence as she gasped for breath. She had his cock in her hand all wet and trailing saliva from her lips. It was delicious deep-throating him in the dark alley, she squatting in her stiletto heels and short skirt, he leaning against the crumbly brick wall. Her blouse and her legs were wide open, allowing unhindered view of breasts and pink bits. She went back to work on the huge cock, fitting her lips tightly around the thick head and sliding her mouth down the whole shaft.

“Oh yeah, work it, baby…” he moaned.

She made muffled sounds of wanton pleasure as her mouth moved up and down that thick member. Her hands joined in the hungry feast, skillfully stroking and squeezing the shaft whenever her lips drew back. Yes, he was close now, judging from his quickening grunts and the way he gripped her hair. With clever flicks of her tongue on the head still inside her mouth, the beautiful blonde finally felt the sign she was longing for — the powerful surging in the cock’s veins.

The burly man shuddered and invoked the name of God repeatedly as he spurted his cum copiously in her mouth. Kirsten quickly swallowed what seemed like a never-ending load. She guessed he hadn’t released in a while. But it was good stuff — hot, thick and enervating. Exactly what she had hoped for.

“God, that was intense,” he gasped. “You nearly sucked the life out of me. Damn, you’re unbelievable!”

“Mmmm. That’s because I love doing this,” she said, licking and coaxing the last few precious drops out of the tip. He looked woozy, and he slid down the wall that he had been leaning on. Crumpling to the ground in his unzipped jeans, he took a while to gather his breath. He had never felt this weak and light-headed before.

“What’s your name, honey?” he asked, watching her through his dazed and half-closed eyes.

She didn’t answer. Kirsten merely gave a mysterious sly grin, indicating that anonymity was the best way to keep things.

“I thought you looked a little ashen earlier, but you are actually gorgeous,” he remarked with genuine amazement. Her beauty glowed in a way he hadn’t noticed earlier. It was almost like she was a different woman. He chalked it down to her satisfaction with his manhood.

“Oh. Must have been the moonlight,” she said, dismissively. “Casts a pallor on everything.”

Kirsten drew back and stood up, buttoning her blouse. Her demeanor was cold and icy again.

“Hey, where are you going? Come back with me and we can fuck,” he smiled at her and tried to reach for her hand. It was then he noticed he had taken several fine clumps of her hair in his hands, while she was fiercely delivering that blowjob.

“Oh Christ! What the hell is this?” he sputtered, a chill quickly seizing his heart. He nervously shook the golden strands off his fingers, as if they were a bad hallucination.

But Kirsten had already dusted her knees and turned away. Her long, wavy, blonde mane looked bizarrely more lush and glorious now than before. She walked away from the spent and puzzled man, her shiny red heels clicking on the pavement.

She licked the corner of her mouth. Good cum. Very good life energy. If only most nights were as fruitful as this. She touched her skin. It felt smooth and soft again, not dry and peeling anymore. Ashen she had been earlier, as the guy had correctly observed. The hair falling out was a close call just now. Any further decay and it would be clear she was a zombie. She reminded herself never to go so long without a feed.

Yes, feeding was important. Most zombies were possessed by an endless hunger, one that compelled them to feast on human flesh. Kirsten had a different kind of hunger. She lusted only for fresh warm semen, brimming with life seeds. By sheer luck, something had altered her zombie transformation, those many years ago. So she yearned not for blood and meat, but for cum. Not in a sordid way, even though her feasting did come with pleasure, but for sheer survival. She would wither and rot without it.

The pearly ejaculate was precious; it rejuvenated her undead flesh. It was the powerful life essence in semen that she had to imbibe or absorb regularly to maintain her living human form. It was not a bad trade-off. Plus, she could retain all memory, language, skills and intelligence, unlike other zombies which seemed little more than animated rag dolls.

Kirsten passed a shop window, and glanced at her reflection. The life force refreshed her cells and perfected them; she was more beautiful dead than alive.

But the world did not know of her kind. Either not many zombies were made this way, or if they existed, they were totally undercover for survival. The zombies that the world was familiar with were the traditional rotting and mindless sort; and the humans’ prejudice against zombies was too deeply entrenched for any variants to be tolerated. Even “mutant” zombies like her. She had learned that humans would not trust anything undead, no matter how alluring.

The war on zombies had been going on for decades. While it had been sheer mass panic when the first wave emerged, it seemed the humans had the upper hand for now. The undead had been driven underground, their numbers apparently dwindling.

The slower and stupid necromorphs had largely been wiped out, leaving only the strain that was wiser about self-preservation. The smarter zombies would attack sporadically in small teams to feed and then hide. They knew not to make too many of themselves, for in larger numbers they created feeding competition, and could not hide as effectively. They were way too recognizable — grey decaying skin, a sickly stench, meaningless moans for speech, and parts of their bodies in disarray. They were death animated.

But being undead they could not be killed, not by ordinary means. Knife and gun wounds made scant difference. They could not drown. They were immune to diseases. The only methods of eradicating them were cremation — destruction by fire — or obliteration of the head where the brains were. The brains were critical; they had to shut down.

The humans had gotten good at dealing with zombies, corralling them into giant pits and burning them up. After some time, the human casualties dropped to just a few. They couldn’t completely eradicate the zombies but the threat was now deemed almost negligible. More humans were killed by humans than by zombies. Every home by now had a flame thrower to fight off the odd zombie, as though they were just an unwelcome grizzly. 

Kirsten reached a busy intersection. She looked at the bright lights, the cars and human traffic. People walked past her, oblivious to who or what she was. Pub crawlers and party-goers. A suit hurrying home, with phone glued to the ear. Overweight women emerging from a 24-hour fast-food restaurant. A drunk homeless man spat on the pavement and broke into a caterwauling song, totally off-key. Thankfully the lights turned in her favor just then and she continued on her way.

The zombies were not evil. They had just become Man’s no.1 predator. The human race stopped being on top of the food chain, and did not like it. On both fronts, it was a fight for survival, pure and simple.

Kirsten drew her coat closer. It wasn’t the cold that bothered her though. She had stopped feeling it for years. She didn’t belong in either world. But for now, it was safer to blend in with the humans.

It wasn’t always easy, but she was not alone.

Kirsten rounded the corner and stepped up into her apartment building. It was well past midnight as she turned the key in the lock and opened the door.

Well, that’s the intro and I hope you like it. In Chapter Two, you get to meet more of the girls…

Get the full book at 99 cents only –

The XXXombies Are Live on Amazon!

XXXOMBIES Book 1 - by Pleasurina

My new and racy XXXombies book is up and live on Amazon!

The book description reads:

Kirsten is a mutant. A mutant zombie, or more accurately xxxombie. Unlike the putrid and mindless flesh eaters, she is cursed to seek men instead for white, hot cum. She needs to mate like humans need to eat. In return, the essence of life in men’s ejaculate blesses her with immortality, enhanced beauty, and the power to regenerate. She is not the only one, but they all have to keep their identities secret.

All zombies are not to be trusted or tolerated. An entire Zombie Contagion and Control (ZCC) government agency exists purely to put zombies out. She and her brethren discover horrifically that the agency is more sinister than publicly known. And that knowledge has them being hunted with top priority.

It was a nail-biting night some 12 hours after uploading the file. I could barely sleep, especially after seeing the ASIN number assigned. When will it go live? When can I see its page?

And then, before I knew it, at 9:03pm, Amazon sent me an email telling me the baby has been born.

A few hours later, I had four units sold! OK, two of those I know came from friends (the very few who know what I am writing), but the other two? I have no idea who they are, Including one buyer from the UK! But thank you for buying my book, even though it’s fresh in the market and without any reviews.

These are such exciting times. Beginnings are often full of wonder and anticipation.

I need to build my entire social media universe – Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Flickr, blog…

I have also completed my author page on Amazon:

Maybe later I’ll publish an excerpt from the book.