Monday, December 31, 2012

Dark Miracles

Flowing into darkness, savoring the flavor of the black enveloping mist.
Surrounded by velvet softness, touching, tasting, drowning in the senses of time.
Searching for wholeness. Reaching for depth. Trying, trying to find the path through the chronology of life.

Yearning for the connection, the stroke of a hand against soft skin.
Tongue tasting the sweet saltiness of tears gliding down a cheek, kissing away the ambrosia of emotion.
There is longing in the darkness, longing in the silent cries of passion, longing in the forgotten space of pain.

Grasping for the light, begging for the warm caress of pain.
The scent of the honeyed essence of desire, the wetness enveloping the ache of the velvet hardness; stroking, stroking, stroking.
Diving ever deeper into the abyss of craving, seeking for the shadow of eternity, the soul of surrender hidden inside the caliginous cave.

Surrender to the hypnotic ecstasy of love.
Where the soul plants the seeds of hope, of wonder; yearning to touch, even for a moment, a kindred passion.
Dive deep into longing, flowing into the darkness of miracles.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Image ~ source unknown


Friday, December 28, 2012

A Fairy Tale...

Once upon a time, there was a girl named Dawn. Her laughter joined the birds in song. Her eyes were as changing and expressive as the moon. Her tears filled the oceans. She could get lost in the sun, in the stars, in the flow of a swift moving river. She was sensitive and caring, taking everything to heart and holding it within herself like a precious flower. She laughed and danced, she expressed herself with words, with song, with movement, with service. She desperately wanted to please everyone.

She grew up feeling everything deeply and being told she was too much; too sensitive, too caring, too giving...to stop being who she was. The people who told her these things were well meaning, but the damage was done. So she continued to live and grow, she made friends, tried hard to be what they all wanted her to be, and couldn’t figure out why she was not happy.

She spent time learning music because it spoke to the emotion she tried to hide. She learned how to dance because it was an outlet for the emotion she tried not to feel. She read books to escape the drudgery her life had become. She wrote stories to feed her imagination and try to find her dreams again. She took pictures trying to find the light. She sought god in the religions of the world, trying them on like wedding dresses, searching for the one that fit her dream.

She made love with abandon, giving her body freely, even to those that did not deserve it. She was drawn to submission and pain and discovered it was a way to release the pent up emotions that she had learned how to hide. In her search for god and for someone to love, she discovered that She is all that she needs….but not all that she wants.

She studied the bible, the Koran, Qabalah, Hermetics, Thelema, Sufism, the philosophy of the ancient Egyptians, and was drawn to the stories of the ancient Picts and the Celtic peoples. She discovered the sacredness that is sexuality and the union with GOD through the joining of sexual energies with a partner, or through self-pleasuring. Her goddess came to her through her discovery of the pleasures of pain. She became a priestess in a religion that “almost” fit her perfectly, but she was unable to find the “other”, the person, the priest who could complete her rapture in her devotion, so she moved on, searching, ever searching.

She is learning to love herself as her goddess loves her, devoting herself to the bliss of pain that leads to the release of self in sexual abandon.

Her story is really just beginning, the journey through wanton desires, sharing herself for the healing of the world through sexual union…with one, with many…it has not been fully determined yet.

Her laughter once again joins the birds in song. Her eyes are still as changing and expressive as the moon. Her tears still fill the oceans. She still gets lost in the sun, in the stars, in the flow of a swift moving river. She remains sensitive and caring, taking everything to heart and holding it within herself, nurturing that precious flower. She laughs freely and dances with abandon; she expresses herself with words, with song, with movement, with service. She loses herself with wild abandon when a trusting hand administers pain…and pleasure.

The ending of one chapter leads to the beginning of another. Her story continues…


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Image ~ Source unknown


Tuesday, December 18, 2012

Quiet Darkness

In the quiet darkness, I hear a whisper,
Touch yourself; know the pleasure of my release.

I move to obey, hands squeezing breasts,
Pinching nipples until they stand hard and erect.

In the quiet darkness, I hear a voice,
More. Feel your wetness as you show me the joys of your body.

I am drawn to obey, fingers gliding into my folds.
My wetness spills over my hand, my breath coming in short gasps.

In the quiet darkness, I hear a sigh,
You are my daughter, my sacred whore, my priestess. I love you.

I scream with the release my body can no longer hold back.
B A B A L O N !


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Photo ~ Source unknown

Sunday, November 25, 2012

Thursday, November 22, 2012

Gratitude

I am thankful for all the relationships I have ever had, even the difficult one’s and the one’s that ended badly for without them I would not have had the experiences that have made me who and what I am.

I am thankful for rich dark coffee with raw sugar and whipping cream. 

I am thankful for the smell of leather.

I am thankful for the intimate times with partners, smelling and nuzzling the soft spot behind their ears, enjoying and sharing sacred and beautiful gifts together.

I am thankful to be allowed the freedom to be who I am.

I am thankful for the yummy chicken salad from my favorite deli.

I am thankful for chocolate.

I am thankful for the love of family and friends, for being able to celebrate both light times and dark times with them.

I am thankful for cold hard steel.

I am thankful for mud and memories and the desire to create new ones.

I am thankful for peaceful quiet in the alone times.

I am thankful for the sweet ambrosia of times with friends, sharing secrets, living, loving, and laughing.

I am thankful that I have been blessed with creativity.

I am thankful that I am able to self-reflect on who I am and who I want to be.

I am thankful for my totem, the mighty eagle. who gives me the strength to keep moving forward no matter how hard it is some days.

I am thankful for all the people that I have not met yet but will at some point in my life and what we will share with one another.

I am thankful for the smell of the woods, a rushing stream, the beauty of a field, and the sun, wind, and rain that keep them all nurtured and growing.

I am thankful for open honesty.

I am thankful for my words, my vision, my relationship with my goddess…my muse.

I am thankful that I get to be who I am.

© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Thursday, October 4, 2012

Mount Rainier

I grew up in the shadow of your majesty 
I was in awe of your splendor 
I have been humbled by your power 

I rejoiced in the folds of your meadows 
I shivered in the embrace of your glaciers 
I laughed at the joy of your vision 

I have beheld you in all hours of the day and night 
I have seen you in dark silhouette against a pink sky 
I have seen you glorious in the bright light of the sun 
I have seen you hiding in the wonders of the clouds and 
I have watched the moon rise above your glory 

You are ancient and quiet 
You are wise and peaceful 
You have power and the depth of unending eruptions within you 

You compel the wish to conquer by your very existence 
You evoke dreams of longing and passion in your shadows 
You came into existence millennia ago and support beautiful life all around you 

You are grace and beauty beyond compare 
There may be others bigger, brighter, more difficult to scale 
But you are the inspiration I grew up with and 
You will always be what I look for on the horizon. 


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Internet image

The Key

There is a key to my hidden door.
The door that hides the secrets of my body.
The door that hides the secrets of my mind.

There is a key that unlocks my yearning.
The yearning that leads me into darkness.
The yearning that leads me into bliss.

There is a key to releasing my desires.
The desires that feed my soul with passion.
The desires that feed my hunger for pain.

There is a key to finding my heart
The heart that burns with a secret flame
The heart that yearns to soar at your touch.

There is a key to the heart of my darkness.
The darkness that leads to the light of compassion.
The darkness that releases all taboos, heals all wounds, and creates boundless joy.

There is a key… 


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Internet image

Monday, October 1, 2012

Call of Darkness

Sensations take me further and further into the inky blackness
Soaring, floating, lost in the darkness of space
A quiet voice, the touch of a hand, tether me
Keep me in place.

The overwhelming expansion of my consciousness through pain
Out of control, confusion abounds, erratic thoughts
A simple command, breathing in unison
Calms my spirit.

The ecstatic travels taking me ever deeper through the layers of myself
Finding my core, finding you there inside of me
A luscious release, giving you all that I am
All that I have.

Now we are separate, traveling our own paths in the darkness
I am still me. Yearning for the darkness that is part of me
The touch of the whip, the cane, the knife, and the claws
Calling to me.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Image found, internet

Sunday, September 16, 2012

I Love You...

Love…what is it? Does it really matter?

I had a conversation with a friend recently who told me about a book she was reading and she said some things that were extremely profound to me.

The word love means so many things. There are so many kinds of love. Life is short and we never know when it will end or when we will part ways with someone that means something to us. Be courageous. Say, “I love you” every time you feel it, to everyone that you’re feeling it toward. Don’t worry about what “type” of love it is, just say it. Say it because you need to say it. Say it because someone needs to hear it. Don’t worry about it freaking out the person you’re saying it to. They need to hear it and you need to share it.

You may only ever have one chance to say it to someone and they need to know you felt that way about them at least once. It doesn’t matter if its friendship love, or romantic love, or spiritual love, or respect love, or any other kind. It’s love. Share it. Celebrate it. Acknowledge it. Revel in it. But most especially SAY IT.

It might prompt a conversation. It might confuse someone…but at some point, they will remember it and know that in that moment you respected them, cared for them, loved them and it may make all the difference in the world when that memory comes back to them.

I love you….


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Internet image

Saturday, September 15, 2012

Touching

Touching in the dark
The deep deep dark where slumber rules
Bodies close, touching, sweet confirmation that we are not alone.

Fitting together, breathing together
Aware of one another in the deepest of sleep
Reaching out and touching one another when we get too far away.

Ass to ass like bookends,
Breast pressed to back with arms enfolding
Face to face with head nestled in the crook of your neck

Wrapped securely in your warm embrace
Holding you, touching you
Missing you now as I sleep all alone

Where is your warm body?
Where is the warm embrace in the middle of the night
That sweet touch that makes me feel safe and grounded in the dark.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Internet image...

Chaos

There is chaos in my mind.
Thoughts churning, heart yearning for the deepest darkness.
I look at trees and see switches.
I look at a chain link fence and I see myself bound.
I look at horses and see the whip you used to use on me.
The sweetest darkness of the most pleasurable kind.

There is chaos in my mind.
Thoughts rambling, heart wishing for the sweet darkness.
I look at a pasture and see the barbed wire I wanted to be bound with.
I look at blackberries and see thistles burning my pussy.
I look at a lake and see the sharing, the blending of our piss.
The hungry darkness that envelops and consumes.

There is chaos in my mind.
Thoughts boiling, heart craving the connection of darkness.
I look at a car and see the hood where I wanted you to fuck me.
I look at a cane and see the marks you used to leave on my willing body.
I look at steel and see oceans of my essence releasing for your pleasure.
The sublime darkness that feeds our souls.

There is chaos in my mind.
Thoughts agitating, heart thirsting for the taste of darkness.
I look at a field and see the ideas we had for tortuous pain.
I look at a clothespin and see the joyous buildup of painful pleasures.
I look at chain and see the ecstasy and laughter that overwhelmed us.
The beautiful darkness that is yet unexplored.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Internet image...


Tuesday, September 11, 2012

Loss

Sleeping with the light on to keep the shadows of the memories at bay

The shadows pressing in all around; I cover my ears and weep

Weep for the beauty of joy that once was.
Weep for the fragrance of laughter gone.

The light holds the sadness away, the depth of thought a little lighter

The depth of the sadness drowning in sorrow; I cover my eyes and scream

Scream for the loss of the joy that once was
Scream for the hollow feeling consuming

Sleeping with the light on to keep the jumble of hurt thoughts hidden

The jumble of overwhelming pain; I cover my mouth and sob

Sob with the overwhelming loss of what might have been
Sob with the grief that consumes passion

The light hides the sadness in the shadows of the room

The shadow consumes the feral power of loss


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Photo - Internet find

Saturday, August 25, 2012

Whisper

And here is the whisper of longing
The sweet whisper of a building desire
The barest whisper of secrets unfolding

And here is the longing of pleasures
The sweet pleasure of building desire
The deep pleasure of secrets shared

And here is the pleasure of dark taboo
The sweet whisper of building pain
The dark whisper of sweet release

© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012
Image ~ Google find

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Bound by Lust ~ A Book Review


Bound by Lust
Romantic Stories of Submission and Sensuality
Edited by Shanna Germain
Cleis Press


Shanna Germain has brought together a wonderful collection of erotic stories that span the senses in the most delightful ways. I would most heartily recommend this book to friends. A few of the stories include...

Reclaiming Spring by Sommer Marsden
A sweet story of a couple coming back to themselves.

Being His Bitch by Janine Ashbless
I read this story the first time during my lunch hour at work. It was so provocative and erotic for me that I really truly wished I was not at work at the time. The best part came when I read it to my partner later in bed. It led to a very enjoyable evening that I would love to repeat. A stirring read for sure. I will certainly be looking for more writings by Janine.

Under the Clock by Justine Elyot
Very provocative story of Dominance and submission and can be summed up with these lines from the story..."How long would you have waited?"..."Until you came." Such a worthwhile read.

Marcelle by Alana Noel Voth
A darkly complex story that kept me guessing until the very end...and I still want more. I want to know where these characters went from here. Always a good sign.

Whippoorwill by Teresa Noelle Roberts
A story that I could relate to, having been there any number of times myself. It can be summed up with this delightful quote from the story...
"...He pushed me fast to that place where pleasure and pain blurred, a place where I couldn't think of anything except sensation--of the fire building as his hand blasted into my ass over and over again....If he stopped, I'd strangle him."

Slave Sister by Vida Bailey
A sweet poignant story that shows the beautiful side of poly and kinky. I want to know what happens next.

A Beautiful Corpse by Craig Sorensen
A beautifully touching story about an aged couple who's thirst for life brought them full circle into their golden years but their passion for life and each other still brings about a glorious fuck. I can honestly say that I want to be like them.

Eine Klein Spanking by Clarice Clique
Can really be summed up by a quote by Simone de Beauvoir that is used in the story; "In itself, homosexuality is as limiting as heterosexuality: the ideal should be to be capable of loving a woman or a man; either, a human being without feeling fear, restraint, or obligation." It's the same for a submissive becoming dominant.

Defining the Terms by Sharazade
A lesson in word meanings and teaching a wordy slut what she really needs.

Devil's Night by Veronica Wilde
Everyone has to start somewhere. A delightful story about learning the ropes.


Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Where I Wanna Go, What I Wanna Do


Where do I wanna go?
I wanna go where your cock is hard and your sweat is slick.
I wanna go where your spirit hides and your muscles go weak.
I wanna go where your animal pounces and growls with need.

What do I wanna do?
I wanna suck your cock when I get there.
I wanna fuck you til neither of us can walk.
I wanna feel you tight between my thighs.

Where do I wanna go?
I wanna go where the darkness lurks inside my soul.
I wanna go where I can't hide from what feeds my essence.
I wanna go where there are no options but giving you all I have.

What do I wanna do?
I wanna laugh with the dark cravings of lust and pain.
I wanna lose myself in the moment of your powerful touch.
I wanna find myself kneeling at your feet offering you all that I am.


© Dawn C. Davis

Friday, July 6, 2012

The Table

Oh god, bound and gagged. What would happen next? Rarely does he bind me, and he’s never gagged me before. Nerves race through me as I lie helpless on the metal table. The surface has finally warmed from the heat of my naked body and my breathing is finally starting to calm to a normal level. I look around as best I can but I can’t see much. I hear a pulsing rhythm like an over loud bass reverberating through the table and my ears, like someone has their subwoofer turned up too loud.

He led me in here, ordered me to strip and lay on the table. He then spread me out and bound me with chains and put the gag in my mouth, fastening it behind my head. He knows how I feel about gags but I didn’t fight it. It’s small, like a horses bit; not exactly a gag. I should be able to breath around it just fine. The table is metal and is on locking casters but I didn’t have time to really get a good look at it.

Momentarily the music gets louder, and then muffles again, but I can hear footsteps coming toward me. “How are you doing my whore? Are you all right?”

Unable to do anything else, I nod.

You start lightly caressing my body as you walk around the table. My face, a breast, my belly, down my thigh, the sole of my foot, and then back up the other side. You pause at the juncture between my legs and dip a finger into my folds. You chuckle silently then hold your now wet finger before my face and slowly smear my juices on my lips. Bending down, you whisper in my ear, “My whore, I will be with you the whole time. Do you trust me?”

I look at you questioningly, but answer the only way I can, I nod…because I do.

You caress my face, kissing me briefly on the forehead and then stand up straight. Suddenly there are others around me. I catch only a glimpse of them when you put the blacked out goggles over my eyes. I hear metal catches and then the table is moving, with me on it. The door opens again and the driving bass has been replaced with music that is easier to handle. I’m scared and nervous, but I trust you to take care of me.

We take several turns with the table. At each turn the music gets a little louder, a little more distinct. Finally we stop, and once again I feel a hand traveling down my body and I feel your breath next to my ear, “Show time, my whore.”

Suddenly a door opens before us and the music is louder once again and the table is moving. I start taking deep calming breaths. I can hear and feel people crowding around me. Periodically a hand, or something, touches me. I’m disoriented and nervous, but I know you are beside me. I feel your hand on mine.

The table comes to a stop and I hear the casters locked back in place. I roll my head on my neck, stretch my arms and legs as best I can, and then relax. Suddenly, something is released on the table and I am upright. The table was actually a frame and I am nestled inside of it. The back disappears and I am completely exposed, spread-eagled within the frame.

“Are you all right my whore?”

I am so happy to hear your voice and nod immediately.

“I am right here and will be here no matter what. Do you understand?”

I nod again and relax. I trust you to take care of me.

I feel your lips on mine, even around the bit in my mouth, and I am grateful that you are my Sir.

I suddenly feel a cool air waft over me over and over, and then the blows of the flogger start. Slowly at first, gently; but with each wave of air, they get faster, harder. Then a second flogger matches the first. I am now being flogged both back and front. I relax into the expertise that I feel. There is a rhythm to them. The floggers are using the beat of the music to keep in tune, perfectly matched, but neither hitting me at the same time. First back, then front, then back again. Periodically two blows will land on one side while the other holds off. It is heady stuff and distracting. I never know when or where the next blow will land. Two floggers. That alone is boggling my mind, but then it starts to register that the hits are getting more insistent and I cannot escape or move away from them. While I’m processing the hit on the back, I receive one on the front. They become increasingly more insistent and I find myself lost in the rhythm of it, though I can feel my skin becoming more and more sensitized.

I hear myself moaning and realize that I have started to drool. I’m having a difficult time keeping my saliva in check with the bit in my mouth. This makes me feel more vulnerable and exposed.

The hits continue to ramp up, coming faster, landing more insistently on my flesh. I can feel my body swaying inside the frame as I try to both reach for and get away from the blows when suddenly, they stop. The music has come to an end.

Now things get really strange. Suddenly what was the back of the table becomes the front of the table and it tilts until I am lying on my stomach. I feel a strap holding my head in place.

Then I hear the music start up again and it’s a driving beat. I can only imagine what will come next. I don’t have long to wait as I feel the first blow of the cane, in a light tapping up and down my backside, including the soles of my feet. I was wet before but now I know that my essence will be flowing freely. I cannot help but lift my ass to the blows. They feel so good against my skin. All I can think about is wanting more. I hear shuffling around me but I am focused on the cadence of the blows. Suddenly I feel the table shifting and I am no longer completely on my stomach but at an angle. The rhythm of the cane never ceases, never misses a beat and I just starting to get lost in it again when I fingers on my head.

Drool has been flowing freely from my mouth. I had completely forgotten the bit, I was so lost in the beautiful feel of the cane; but the bit is not being removed from my mouth. Before I can even think to lick the spittle from my lips, I feel something insistent against my lips, pushing my mouth open further and I feel a hand on my head tilting my head back so that a better angle is reached. I recognize there is a cock being shoved between my lips and I greedily suck it in, allowing my saliva to coat it completely as the caning continues. The cane and the cock develop a rhythm with the music, just like the twin floggers did. I am lost in it. The bearer of the cock knows enough to not jam it down my throat. I’m certain I have my Sir to thank for that. Only a certain kind of sadomasochist likes vomit on their cock…and I despise throwing up.

The cock feels good in my mouth. The beat of the cane grows more insistent. I want to concentrate on one or the other but I can’t. When I start to focus on one, the other one grabs my attention with a fierce blow or deeper thrust. I go back and forth until I finally stop trying and just allow myself to be. Lost in the beauty of the blows, my mouth held open by the driving cock. I have no idea how long it continues but the music changes, starts to slow down, and then fade away. The cock escapes my grasping lips. The cane disappears after one last solid blow that causes me to scream.

Then you are there beside me, shushing me, telling me to take a drink of water as you hold the glass to my lips. You kiss my brow, then my lips, your hand caresses my face and I lean into it, kissing your fingers.

The contraption I have been bound to is set upright again and the surface is folded away as I am once again bound within the frame of it and fully exposed. There is silence as someone spreads my pussy lips apart and fastens clamps to them and then places a weight on them. I groan with the addition of the weight and then it is placed in motion, a slow back and forth, pulling on my nether lips.

I hear no music, but I hear something coming through the sound system. It sounds like water and it is relaxing, lulling me…and then I feel the first hot spray hit my body, then another and another. I don’t know for sure, but I think people are pissing on me. Someone is getting creative. I can feel someone almost drawing on me with the spray of their piss.

As that other time, with Sir, as soon as the piss runs down my body and reaches my pussy, I cannot control it and I start to piss too. I am mortified. I am peeing on myself. It’s running down the chains on the clamps and causing the weight to move more. There is piss streaming all over me, front and back, sides, up and down my body, multiple streams of piss. I can smell it. When one stream ends, there seems to be another to take its place, but finally it trickles out. I can hear moaning and it takes me a moment to realize that it is me. I feel a finger running up the inside of my thigh and then the first clamp is released and I scream. I pant for a moment and then the second clamp is quickly removed and I scream again. I hear your voice in my ear shushing me again, your hand on my head calming me, as you order me to drink more water.

Then I hear music starting up again and wonder what will come next when I hear it; the inexorable sound of the Hitachi. I’m not ready for the sensations to be done, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Who wants piss all over their toys? But I should know my Sir better than that.

When the Hitachi hits my pussy, I feel the driving pounding of a paddle. No more warm up. I buck against it and it drives me onto the vibrator. I back away from that only to get a resounding smack with the paddle. Back and forth, back and forth. I cannot escape either torment, and no matter how much I may want to escape, I also want more. With each blow of the paddle my essence squirts from my pussy. With each drive into the Hitachi, my clit becomes more and more sensitized.

Then the paddle stops, the vibrator removed, and I breathe for a moment but I am not allowed to rest long this time. The table once again is behind my back and I am flipped onto that side. Something small and flat starts spanking my pussy and I groan with the new sensation on my engorged pussy. I start bucking and humping with each blow. I want more, I need more. I feel myself shaking my head back and forth and I hear my own voice, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me, please just fuck me.”

Suddenly the table converts again only this time it seems that only the bottom part of the table is gone and then I feel a person standing between my stretched out legs and something is being pushed relentlessly into my pussy, fucking me. A rhythm starts and I can tell that someone is actually physically fucking me with their cock. I love the feel of the cock and even though I am mostly immobile, I try my hardest to thrust against it, wanting more. He’s teasing me with it though, going smooth and even. I want driving, forceful thrusts. I want it hard and fast. “Please, please god, just fuck me!” I scream the last two words. I need it so badly. And then the music changes again to a driving beat and the man between my legs starts finally to fuck me in earnest. It feels so good I don’t ever want it to stop, and then I realize that I’m feeling something.

I sense people pressing in around me, around us, and then there is warmth spreading out, landing on my flesh. It takes me a moment but I finally realize that men are releasing their cum all over my body. It’s landing on my face, legs, breasts, belly, feet. And then I hear a roar as the man between my legs releases inside of me (I trust that you have taken care that a condom is used).

I am sensitized beyond anything I have experienced before. My pussy is streaming wet with my arousal. I want more pain but I am actually in a place where I want release more…and then I hear the Hitachi again and hope rises in me.

“You’ve done well my whore; now let’s show them how it’s really done.”

I can hear how pleased you are with how things have gone. I feel your fingers drive inside of me and you chuckle. “Oh this one is going to be easy my whore.”

I realize that you have found my g-spot and that it is seriously engorged. You put pressure on in it as you rub it over and over again. The Hitachi is against my clit and I’m humping it like it is the last time I may ever get to have an orgasm. Back and forth. I feel the pressure building and start begging you to not stop. The pressure builds and builds until I cannot help but force it out of me. I start squirting all over your hand but you never stop the pressure on either g-spot or clit. I lose count of the number of orgasms you rip from my body. I’m laughing and crying all at once and I just get lost in the ecstasy of your hands on my body, in my body.

I have no idea when it ends. I think I might have passed out. I come to in a bathroom, lying on the floor outside a shower. You are sitting there with me, holding me; looks of concern and pleasure fighting for supremacy on your face. When I smile at you, the pleasure wins. You stroke my hair, touch my face, kiss me.

“Such good energy my whore.”

© Dawn C. Davis

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

One Line ~ Inspiration

You touched my body with thousands of strokes of cane, flogger, whip, paddle, and more. You captured my mind with every clamp, clothespin, blind fold, and bite you administered. You claimed my soul with every invasion of plug, dildo, hook, finger, and cock. You won my spirit with every new adventure through the darkness. You care for my heart when I give it into your hands for safekeeping.
 
You break me into a million pieces each time I am allowed to attend to you...you break me apart and put me back together again, each time in new and exciting ways. There is much I have learned about myself in our time together and so much more yet to learn. I yearn for the dark places we share, I thrive in the shadows that are our playground.

I am Your whore...Your sacred whore. Touched, captured, claimed, won, and cared for.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

Static / Evolve / Status Quo Ante

Static: showing little or no change
Evolve: to undergo gradual change; develop

We as human beings are naturally evolving, in fact I doubt that it is truly possible for advanced human beings (or human beings in general) to be static. We are constantly exposed to new stimuli, new situations and conditions, the very nature of which forces some type of adaptation (i.e., evolution, change).

Because of this I firmly believe that relationships between two or more individuals also then cannot remain static; they must evolve, adapt to fit the new situations that continually crop up in our lives.

One of the [many] problems is that people as a general rule are afraid of change. This is not really a surprising thing because change can sometimes bring about loss, instability, the unknown. How do we deal with these things? Is this the major source of issues in our relationships today?

I, personally do not believe we can maintain mental, emotional, or physical health if we remain static...in ourselves, our own lives, and most certainly within our relationships.

To thrive and be rich in love, friendship, all relationships, we must allow growth and change to occur. Stifling this is unhealthy and damaging.

From Wikipedia: Status quo, a commonly used form of the original Latin "statu quo" – literally "the state in which" – is a Latin term meaning the current or existing state of affairs. To maintain the status quo is to keep the things the way they presently are. The related phrase status quo ante, literally "the state in which before", means "the state of affairs that existed previously".

Monday, May 28, 2012

Hungry Whore

I cannot believe how incredibly horny I am for you right now. I want to touch you all over; slowly, sensuously...and have you tied to a table while I direct others to touch you in ways that you love. To have you be the focus of attention of so many hands, so many mouths, so many sensations. Blind folded and unable to see who is touching you and where. To have feather light caresses glide over your skin, to feel the touch of teeth biting into your neck, your groin and inner thigh. To have fingers relentlessly pulling on your balls while a sly finger slips into your ass and a mouth sucks on your perineum. To have someone twist and pull on your nipples while all of this is happening and a hot wet pussy is poised over your mouth. To overwhelm your senses...this is my desire....to fulfill yours.

What are your desires? What do you yearn for?

There are so many things that I have yet to experience and I want to experience them with you. I want you to be the one to introduce me to them. I may be a "heavy" bottom and spent time as a "slave" but there are still so many things. I don't even know what they all are yet.

I want to feel your hot piss on me, pouring over my body as I moan and writhe in pleasure and the need for more from you.

I want to be covered in shades of beautiful hot wax and have you shave it from my body. 

I want to watch you go down on someone while I fuck you in the ass. I want to be fucked by you and another man at the same time. There is just so much. So many yearnings.

Women are hungry. I am woman, I am sacred whore, and I am hungry for you.

I want to sit and hold your hand while we talk about philosophy, spirituality, energy, love, death, sex, and all of those wonderful things we tend to talk about.

I want to read to you late into the night and hold you while you fall asleep.

I want to fuck you. I want to be fucked by you.

Women are hungry.

I want to trim your eyebrows and pluck the stray wild hairs. I want to shave you clean so that I can suck your balls deep into my mouth until you growl and writhe with your need for more.

I want to massage you, touching every square inch of your beautiful skin...and to me you are truly beautiful. I see the light in you. I see the dark in you and I crave the many places we can go to together.

I want to spend time drawing on each other, writing words of power and focus.

Women are hungry...

I am ever hungry and insatiable when it comes to you....my partner, my Sir, my sweet sadistic wanton man-whore.

Women are hungry, and I am hungry for YOU.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012


Sunday, May 20, 2012

Preparing for the Darkness

Preparing for the darkness
Preparing for the deep
My mind his for playing
My body his for claiming

Cleansing myself inside and out
Cleansing for the use
My body his for pleasurable abuse
My spirit his for flight
My will his for the night

Yearning for the darkness
Yearning for the deep
My mind craves the touch
My body craves the heat

Bringing in the sacred whore
Bringing in the goddess
Giving him what he craves
Giving him my control
Giving him my body and my soul

Preparing for the darkness
Preparing for the deep
My mind flies free upon the wings of pain
My body soars with the rush of his touch

Longing for the connection that only pain can bring
Longing for the pain that sets me free
My spirit soars through the wilderness
My heart flutters at the sound of his voice
My mind revels in the blackness

Preparing for the darkness
Preparing for the deep
My mind taken to the other side
My body taken to the street

Take me ever deeper
Take me through the night
Don’t let up with tears
Don’t let up with fears
Don’t let up with screams

Claim my body as your sacred temple
Claim my mind where you’re free to roam
Claim my spirit as your chariot
Claim my heart as hearth and home


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Friday, May 11, 2012

His Whore

I crawl...to him on hands and knees, like a golden tiger with muscles rippling under skin; animal calling to animal, the primal energy rising up in us as I get closer to him.

I kneel...before him giving myself to him body, mind, spirit, and will so that he can guide us through the darkest places of our desires; set our passions free to soar in the depth of pain.

I wait…i am the submissive whore who awaits her Sir’s desires and his pleasures; the suspense of our indulgences building and growing on the edge of the knife of our lust.

I attend…his needs, his desires; his enjoyment are my purpose when we come together; ministering to his body, caring for him physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually.

I growl…when he bites me, claiming my flesh as his own, marking me with his teeth on my neck as he takes what is freely given; his animal calling to mine in a moment of challenge.

I purr…with pleasure at the pain that is wrought on my flesh as he molds me to his will, to his passion; awakening my spirit and soul ‘til we breathe as one in the dark space.

I sing…when the painful torment reaches the perfect pinnacle of lust, joy, sex, claiming; the endorphins flying and I am lost in the dark with only his touch to guide me.

I laugh…when the pain becomes like the barest caress of a tickle waiting to happen and the joy bubbles up my throat and escapes my lips in the purest moment of happiness.

I scream…when the wanton whore is knocking on the door humping the toys of painful torment, wanting more, needing more in the inky blackness where i am lost without him.

I release…my very essence to his touch as he whispers in my ear, “Come for me my whore. Give it to me, all of it,” and I cannot hold back an ounce of the beautiful water he craves.

I yield…to him because he speaks to my soul like no other ever has, he sets something inside of me free—to be, to soar, to expand and grow; allowing me to be who I am meant to be.

I share…with him the depth of my spirit and my goddess because he understands, and my goddess desires him, has work for him to perform in the beautiful dark places of our journey together.

I ache…there is a yearning deep inside of me that craves his touch and the sound of his raspy voice in my ear leading me on through the inky darkness of our world of taboo.

I am…His whore.

© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Saturday, May 5, 2012

Party Favor


i arrive at the appointed time. i’m unfamiliar with the place You have requested i meet You at. i’m nervous. You've never asked that i meet You somewhere before, prepared as i would be for a high protocol session. As instructed, i stand before the door and arrange my long coat so that my naked body is exposed to only the door in front of me and not the neighbors though the surrounding area is rather dark and industrial looking. There is a bare utilitarian light hanging over the door illuminating the area, casting my shadow behind me. i shiver but not with cold as it is a warm evening. Anticipation courses through my body along with nervousness and trepidation.

You have instructed me that this will be very high protocol and to expect the unexpected. i knock on the door and wait; my eyes cast down, my hands down at my sides but facing forward as though presenting an offering, for that is exactly what i am for You.

The door slowly opens and i can see black boots before me. There is quiet for a moment and then i hear Your beloved voice, “Look at you My whore; standing there naked like a willing sacrifice. What have you brought me?”

My throat is dry with my fear. i cough then state clearly, “Sir, i bring You my body, my mind, my spirit and will; for Your use, Your pleasure, however You desire.”

“Whose whore are you?”

“i am Your whore Sir. i am Sir's whore.”

“And I may use you however I desire.”

“Yes Sir. Please Sir.”

You chuckle at my begging. “Come in my whore.”

Your step aside and let me into the building. The room is dark, barely illuminated but You stop me inside closing the door and remove my coat, giving my eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness. Then You circle me, inspecting me, touching my hair, my back, my ass, my breast, Your hand touches my shaved pussy and then slides down my naked thigh. You order me to remove my heels.

“Look at Me My whore.”

i slowly raise my head and meet Your eyes. There is a small smile on Your lips and Your eyes show happiness with what i have brought You. Your hand reaches up, tangling in my hair, forcing my head back as Your mouth descends on mine. Brutally You possess my mouth, our tongues battling for supremacy, our animal passions rising to the surface spontaneously. i melt into You, a moan escaping my lips and just as suddenly as the kiss started, it ends. You hold onto my hair only long enough to make sure i do not lose my balance.

You step back, reaching over to grab something off a shelf. “Kneel.”

i quickly comply and You place a hood over my head, effectively covering my eyes and ears, muffling but not eliminating sound, leaving my mouth and nose open so that i have no problems breathing. i feel enclosed, safe as the hood is tightened in place. You order me to present my left hand and You place a cuff tightly around it then repeat with the right. i shift a little on the concrete floor, and You ask me if my knees are alright. i nod, licking my lips, afraid to speak because my voice will quiver.

i feel You lean over me, Your mouth kisses my exposed cheek then i hear Your voice in my ear. “There will be only one safe word tonight my whore. That word that will stop everything. If you speak it, I will take you home and take care of you. Do you understand?”

Again, i nod. i do not trust my voice at all anymore. i’m scared, i’m exhilarated, i trust You completely.

“Good girl.”

i smile at the pleasure i hear in Your voice then suddenly gasp as Your nails rake across my breasts, down my stomach and back up again. When they reach my breasts once more Your fingers pinch my nipples without mercy. The pain is sharp, intense, exquisite as You lift my breasts, lifting me with them. i start panting trying to enter into the pain and just as suddenly You release me. i sense You moving around behind me then hear the snick of Your knife blade releasing and being opened. i shiver with anticipation and hold myself very still as the knife slowly, carefully draws a circle around the base of my neck. my breaths are now coming slow and steady with the wonderful sensation of Your knife on my skin. i am quickly entering that beautiful space where there is no beginning, no middle, no end, just sensation, pleasurable pain, sensual torment, and beautiful release.

i feel the blade moving down my spine in a serpentine fashion and i feel my energy rise to meet it and cannot stop the laughter that escapes my lips from the sheer joy of the sensation. You move the blade around my ass cheek and up the front of my thigh, touching my pussy, my clit, i gasp at the sensation and my essence escapes my secret folds. i hear Your voice in my ear once again, “I can smell your excitement My whore. Are you wet for Me?”

“Yes Sir. i am very wet for You.”

“I will have to check for Myself soon.”

The knife continues up the front of my body, making swirling patterns on my flesh, causing me to stop laughing and gasp when it reaches the sensitive underside of my breast then up to press ever so slightly against my nipple. i arch into the sensation, releasing my breath with a deep moan.

Suddenly Your other hand circles my throat, holding me still and pressing on the points that cut off the necessary supply of oxygen to my brain, but only for a moment. i lean into You, trusting You, knowing You will take us both to wonderful places. A blade on my nipple, a hand on my throat; i want to swoon with the sheer wonderful feeling of giving You everything giving up this power to You.

You apply just a little more pressure to my throat, i’m having a hard time breathing but am not afraid, then the pressure lifts and Your hand rises and cups my face, my chin, tilting my head back You kiss me once again, gently, possessively. “Stand up My whore.”

It takes me a moment to get back into my body enough to obey and my legs are a little shaky, but Your hand on my arm steadies me.

“Tonight You may be asked who you are, what Your name is. Your only answer to these questions is that you are Sir's whore. Is that clear?”

“Yes Sir. i am Your whore, Sir's whore.”

Once again i feel Your hands roaming over my body, touching me, claiming me. i feel like You are somehow marking me and then i feel it; supple leather circling my neck. You are placing a collar on me. There is tugging as the collar is buckled into place and then i feel a weight attached to it. You are locking the collar in place. It is rare enough that You place a collar on me for our play but a lock is unheard of.

Everything You have said to me crashes through my brain. Expect the unexpected, stop play safe word only, no name, only that i belong to You. i take deep breaths, trying to get my bearings and ground my energy. You start breathing with me, slowing my pace, helping me to regain my equilibrium. Soon i am calm, breathing deeply and slowly.

You back me up to a wall and order me to spread my legs. i wonder what is happening but do not have long to wait. Soon i can feel You at my feet, placing cuffs on my ankles. i know that whatever may happen tonight, i may very well get completely bound. Once the cuffs are in place i feel You move away from me.

“Are you ready My whore?”

i take one more deep cleansing breath, “Yes Sir, to please You.”

Your hand takes mine and pulls me in close, once again Your voice in my ear. “Good girl.” Then You leading me through the space around obstacles it seems, and into another room where it feels, it sounds almost cavernous, but i can hear and sense people. No one touches me and You are deft at Your leading me as i touch nothing except Your hand and my bare feet on the floor.

You lead me to an apparatus and help me into position. It feels like a spanking bench of some sort. You attach my wrist and ankle cuffs to various points on the bench then i feel Your hands running over my body once again.

i hear murmurings around me, indistinct words being spoken. i hear what seems to be the clinking of silverware and glassware. Is there a party going on? Suddenly i hear a loud voice, it sounds projected like with a sound system.

“Ladies and gentlemen, guests, I’m certain that you have all enjoyed the festivities thus far. The fare has been quite splendid this evening but we still have a very special treat. Our dessert and final entertainment of the evening has been brought in for everyone’s pleasure. Remember the rules and all final decisions belong to the owner. Please take turns and enjoy.”

my heart skips a beat and i can feel my hands grow clammy at my sudden nervousness, but then i feel Your hand on my neck, the nails of Your other hand gliding down my back and then Your hand lands with a hard slap on my ass. i breathe deep and immediately feel calm.

i heard a round of laughter with the slap on my ass and then i feel someone standing beside me and a latex covered hand running over my skin. The touch is foreign, unknown. The touch goes from hard to soft to hard again as though checking the resiliency of my flesh. Suddenly i feel one hand in the small of my back and the other hand lands over and over on my buttocks, raining blows on one cheek and then the other. Just as i am about to reach my limit of these hard hits, they stop and the hand starts slowly rubbing the abused the flesh. The sensation makes me squirm with the pleasure of it all. i feel Your presence next to me like an anchor keeping me focused and centered. i take the sensations in and feed the energy to You. It is what i always do with the energy. i don’t know any other way to deal with it.

The spanking continues one for a bit more, then someone else moves forward to take its place. There is no longer any gender involved. i have no idea who is going to do what to me and it no longer matters. The next person brings a flogger and the blows land mercilessly on my back, ass, and legs. i focus on my breathing and then i feel Your hand on my head and i relax into the sensation, becoming one with the pain. At that moment, i feel the juices from my pussy once again start to escape my intimate folds. The flogging ends, only to be replaced with lube and a butt-plug. The insistent entry to my nether region brings a moan to my lips as my hips start to buck against the lovely invasion. The person inserting it plays with it for a bit, pulling and pushing on it, fucking my ass with it.

This person is replaced by someone else with a cane. The caning is exquisite and brings purring and moans from my lips. i hear loud whispers about my reaction to the caning. The blows started soft and built in intensity until i screamed with the final blows; one on each ass cheek. They burned and i am certain i will have marks from them.

The caning is replaced with a paddle. The cool wood glides across my hot flesh, introducing itself like a new lover. i squirm against the coolness with how deliciously wonderful it feels, cooling me off, yet raising my hunger for more. Suddenly the blows start landing, ass cheeks, thighs, calves, feet and back up again. Back and forth, light taps followed by hard slaps. The rhythm varies and i cannot wrap my head around it. i can tell i’m starting to get lost. i can’t find my anchor and i’m close to screaming and losing control, almost ready to say my safe word when it stops and i feel You close to me, touching my head, giving me the control i need to go deeper.

Someone starts playing with the butt-plug again. i don’t know if it’s a new person or the person who was playing with it before. They play me and it like an instrument though. It takes mere moments before i am humping the bench, the air, trying to get good deep thrusts with it and suddenly the butt-plug is gone. i whimper with the loss but not for very long. Something infinitely harder is placed against my nether opening and slowly slid into place. i recognize the ass hook and groan with the sheer beauty of how it feels in my ass. The person inserting it plays with it a bit, fucking me with it and moans escape my lips as i try to rise up to meet it, desperately wanting more.

It’s released but stays embedded in my body. Someone new starts threading what i surmise is rope through the hook tightening it into my body, making me writhe with the erotic feel of it. As soon as they are done tying it up, i can feel that as i squirm i will effectively fuck myself with the ass hook. i look forward to what is to happen next that may give me the incentive to move against the hook in a way that will take me yet deeper into my happy whore space.

The next instrument of torment is strap. This was not what i had bargained for. This is hard to take. It stings and i want to get away from it but i am cemented in place with the ass hook buried deep inside of me. Again, i am almost come undone when i feel Your hand on my shoulder and i breathe through it. The blows let up and are replaced with the whip.

Whoever is wielding the whip is expert. The blows move from subtle brushes to full on cracks. They move back and forth between beautiful caresses that make me want more to burning bites that i want desperately to get away from, but the person is reading me and seeing what i react to and how and easily falls into a rhythm that causes me to melt and go ever deeper into the wonderful dark place of erotic pain. Soon the blows become more insistent until each hit is a burn on my flesh and with the final crack, i scream long and loud.

i feel You lean down next me, Your raspy voice in my ear, “Checking in My whore. Are you all right?”

i try to smile for You but i’m floating and don’t know if it really comes across. “Oh yes Sir.”

You kiss my check and then hold a glass of water to my lips. It’s awkward but doable. i never drink that much water during play anyway. Once hydrated, the next person comes up to have their way and i whimper when i feel the rope on the ass hood released. i’m afraid it will be coming out next and i don’t want to lose the beautiful sensation…and i am not wrong. The next thing to happen; the ass hook is pulled from my body and i cry out at the loss of it.

As the evening progresses each person brings their own implement of torment and delight. There is a pussy paddling, there is a dildo inserted in my pussy and i am fucked mercilessly, there is a riding crop, a whippy cane type thing that just about sends me over the edge (i learn later it is the bee stinger, but wielded by someone who did not know or understand its strength). There is more flogging, there is someone who fucks my mouth, someone who fucks my pussy, there is scratching, and biting and then, there is the finishing whip.

The person who wields tells me i will ask for and count each stroke. There will be 10. You know my fear of this implement. It has been used mercilessly on me, but there is a fine line between effective and useless with it.

i gather my courage, “Please Sir, may i have the first blow?” It lands just about right. There is no burn so i am hopeful that i will be able to get through 10 hits if the person using it knows how to gage the blows. “Please Sir; may i have the second blow?” The second lands on my other ass check at about the same hardness. i breathe deeply, calming myself and ask for the third, then fourth blows, taking a breath after each blow. Each odd number blow gets a little harder. by the time we reach 8, i’m not sure i will be able to take the final two.

i take one more deep breath, “Please Sir, may i have the ninth blow?” i almost tighten up but before the words are completely out of my mouth the blow lands and a few seconds later the burn starts and i scream. Your hand is on my shoulder, urging me to breath. i pant for a bit and then breathe deeply once again. i nod, not knowing if You are watching me or not. “Please Sir, may i…” and the tenth blow lands on my other cheek and once again i scream when the burn hits a few seconds later. i start sobbing and trying to breath. You calm me, getting me to breathe with You. Each breath becoming deeper until i am calm.

Once again You check in with me and i tell you that i am okay. i feel Your lips on my cheek as You whisper in my ear, “you are My good whore.”

i smile at the pleasure and pride i hear in Your voice.

Suddenly it feels like everyone is crowding around us. i can feel the press of bodies, hear them even though only You are touching me and then i feel cold lube on my pussy again, and i think i am going to get fucked again, but no. Cold hard steel enters my pussy and then i hear the hum of the Hitachi. Now comes the pinnacle of the evening for me. i know i will be forced to orgasm.

i hear Your voice in my ear as the Hitachi comes into contact with my pussy, playing around my clit as the PureWand is used mercilessly to find my g-spot and rubs over it again and again. Suddenly the Hitachi finds the sweet spot behind my clit and the PureWand is moved over and over my g-spot. i start screaming and bucking as the orgasms start to rip through my body, my essences gushing from my pussy in waves to match my ecstasy. i lose track of how many orgasms are ripped from me, my throat is raw from the screams of my release.

Soon the relentless torment ends, the Hitachi is turned off, the PureWand is removed from my body and i lay limp and exhausted on the bench. The room is strangely quiet and then i hear a single person start to clap and then more and then suddenly the room is filled with clapping, wolf whistles, and yells of happiness.

You start to release me and someone joins You, making sure i am released quickly and efficiently. You help me to sit up and wrap a warm blanket around me and hold me close while people mingle around, periodically coming by to thank You for sharing. You hold onto me tightly, letting me know You have me, i feebly reach up and stroke Your face, touching You and i always need to do after we play.

“Thank You Sir. You are the most wonderful Sir a whore could ever want.”

You slowly reach up and loosen the ties on the hood and remove it. The lights have been lowered and people are still mingling and talking. i can feel wonderful energy in the room and glancing around i see that there were many stations set up for play and more than one naked submissive is in the room but i see that where the spanking bench was, i was the center attraction. i truly was dessert, for everyone.

“Good energy my whore. Wonderful energy.”

“i am Your whore Sir. i am Sir's whore.” Your lean down and kiss me passionately, possessively.

Later, after we are home and snuggled up in bed together, You tell me it was a raffle for a good cause. Each person paid for one ticket and on that ticket was the name of the implement they were allowed to use and on some of them, how the implement could be used. You had veto power over anyone coming up, but before i arrived saw how people were trading their tickets around and could see how each person who really knew how to wield that toy got what they were best at. You made sure there was nothing on any of the tickets that would cross a hard limit for either of us. You really do take very good care of Your whore Sir.

“Sir, what toy did You get to wield, did You get to play with?”

You kiss me again, “My whore.”


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012


Joyful Pressure ~ Sweet Release

Sweet delicious pain that swells and builds
Pressure growing deep inside
Moaning and groaning with the force of the pleasure
Riding the edge of the sensation
Building, mounting, moving with the friction
Wanting and yearning for the sweet release
Playing it out long and hard
It just feels too good to stop
Tension builds in my head and cunt
Playing with the feeling
Straining against the frenzied tension
Sharp application of a well-placed hand
My head explodes, my pussy let’s go
Your hand is drenched as the blows continue
My juices continue to flow with each sharp staccato
Laughter and joy bubble up out of my mouth
Mirth is shared, the joy is effervescent


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Friday, April 20, 2012

Connection

The gentle pain of his touch.
The caring touch of his pain.
The guidance that he provides into the darkest of places where we fly with wild abandon.

His breath leading and guiding.
His touch quiets my restless thrashing. “Shush now my whore.”
Connection through the implements of his discipline.

Each lash of the flogger or whip, each fall of the paddle or cane;
Sends us ever higher, ever deeper into the beautiful abyss.

Endorphins are flying
Adrenaline is pumping
Contact is made

© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

The Call

What calls us on this journey?
What beckons us so that we cannot turn away?

It is the call of our souls, the call of the universe, the call of our gods
The pain calls us; either to give or receive, it calls us.

The enticement of pleasure, the allure of pain
We cannot escape it
We yearn to embrace it.
We yearn to be trapped in it’s snare

What happens when we are there?
We find something; a piece of life, a piece of nirvana, a piece of peace…for a space, for a moment.
We are not alone


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Friday, April 13, 2012

The Enabler

It is the great enabler.
It enables us to feel safe and secure in our own little shell, never getting hurt, never letting us lose what we never have.

It keeps us from moving forward, reaching out, grasping what is offered.
It keeps us from living.
It keeps us safe from hurt and sorrow,
It keeps us from life, abundance, joy, and all the good things we might experience.

It robs us of making memories that will see us through the dark moments of our life.
It lies to us making us think we are strong.
It lets us believe we are in control.

It lies, it steals, it destroys.
It keeps us from hope, and love, and all the good things we need and crave.

Fear...the enabler.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Bound Eagle

Love freely given but not returned
Cuts the heart from the once proud and courageous being

The heart of the eagle lies bloody and desolate on the ground
Without her heart her wings are clipped and she can no longer soar with the freedom of love

She went willingly to the hands of the hunter. Tasty morsels luring her in.
She had no way of knowing that a cage awaited her with hood and jesses to bind her.

She came willingly, gave freely. The tasty morsels barely keeping her hope alive.
Once captured she discovers her majesty and grace, her love would not be returned to her.

Now her wings are clipped and she is no longer the graceful proud creature the hunter wanted
She is hungry, half starved wanting only to be loved in return, her heart soaring free once more.

The hood has been removed. She sees her cage and the jesses binding her feet.
With her mighty beak she rends the jesses, working at her freedom

Her flight feathers will grow back, she will soar free once again
Her heart will heal. One more scar adds the weight of experience.

She continues to look for the hunter who understands her needs, willing to give back what she so freely gives.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Thursday, April 12, 2012

Totem

Proud and lovely eagle, soaring through the sky in her majesty and grace.
Now caged, half starved, longing for what will not be given.

She grows lackluster, losing color and her radiant power;
Will she still be desired by her jailer when she is too weak to break her chains?

Will she have the courage to break the bars that bind her and soar once more?
She knows deep in her heart that without the sustenance she requires she will lose herself.

This mighty and free spirit is broken and hungry.
She needs healing and sustenance.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Photo: Jerry Uelsmann

Monday, March 12, 2012

Missed Beats

Lovers with wonderful rhythms making beautiful music, soaring through bliss
Suddenly out of step, out of tune.

Time and distance adding to the space of emptiness.
Lost and confused, adrift in pain and loneliness without the beat of his heart.

The rhythm and syncopation of our joy off-kilter with missed beats.
Trying, needing to find the rhythm once again.

Longing for the touch of his hand, his warm lips kissing my tears away.
Laying my hand upon his heart, aligning us, our energies into one.

To be held, to share the kiss of yearning that evaporates the expanse between us.
To jump the chasm, crashing into each other’s arms as we find the notes once again,

Falling into the sublime rhythm of our beautiful song.
Joy erupts, comfort consumes, the melody and the rhythm now in tune.


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012

Tuesday, March 6, 2012

Darkness

swallowed in darkness
lost in fear
strangled by thoughts that invade and consume

lack of sleep
triggers the deep
balance is gone with tears and the moon

wandering mind
without compass setting
refuses the climb from the deepness of grime

crawl on my knees
to the one who can heal
find my way home to that place most sublime

healing with lash
and his hands on my flesh
follow his voice through the darkness of night


© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2012