Metaphors and Symbols in Life

I am a student of the occult, a seeker of esoteric knowledge and wisdom...metaphysics. Symbols have been my life; spiritually, emotionally, physically...for more years than some of my friends have been on this earth (in this lifetime at least). The interesting thing is that I'm not very good at putting into words what I glean from the metaphors and symbols in my life. I can take all of that knowledge, all of the gleanings, and transform them into an emotion, into energy within my body and release it to the world through connection with another human being, through ritual, through sex or kink, but words seem to escape me...or at least it feels that way to me which is kind of ironic given words seem to be one of the most important things of my life.

Ritual; be it sexual, kink-related, spiritual, stroking someones hand, giving someone a hug, merely making a soulful connection in some small and profound way...with a person, with an animal, with a tree, or flowing stream...these are but some of the ways that metaphors and symbols both enter and leave my life.

Many years ago, during a meditation, I connected to ALL. The most profound moment of my life. I was open to every single entity on this planet, in the air, in the cosmos. We were... *are* one. I sense and feel my connection to everything. It is overwhelming at times. It can make ending relationships extremely painful, but it can enhance the beginning of a new friendship; amp it up like lightning striking, or floodgates opening. It makes me very vulnerable. Learning to control it has been...interesting. *smile*

Many years ago, I ended a very profound relationship...a Master/slave relationship. I struggled though I knew it was exactly the right thing to do. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life. I knew that I could sever the metaphysical connection, the "cord" that kept me connected to him and it would ease my aching and longing, but I recognized that if I did that, then I would no longer be connected to ALL. I consciously chose to let the metaphysical connection remain even though fear and loss and anger traveled along that cord for some time and fed my anguish and pain. Eventually it diminished and now it is a cord like any of the other infinite cords that connect me to everything and everyone around me. To this day, I am extremely thankful that I did not damage my relationship with ALL by severing that one cord.

Perhaps this is why my photographic art has come back into my life. Another form of metaphor and symbol. The things my eye sees and wants (needs) to capture and share with the world.

The tattoos on my body, the symbols they represent are more metaphors. The great union that comes from the combining of sexual energies (mine depicts female and male sexual union). The replica of the Pictish carving on my breast to me symbolizes new life, growth, the germinating seed coming to life. The Udjat on my back symbolizes my intuition, my psychic self, and that connection that I have to ALL. The white wolf paw on my hip/thigh, once a symbol of my slavery to my Master, now symbolizes my secondary totem and the path that I traverse in this lifetime of discovery of self. The new tattoo that has not come into being yet, will connect all of these and aid my ritual of moving into the next phase of being.

Sometimes I feel like it is a very solitary path these metaphors and symbols lead me on, and sometimes it feels lonely, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes it is filled with fascinating conversations, amazing connections, and the warmest of hugs. I cherish each and every moment that I share with every entity I connect with...each and every one. They are precious to me.


I feel led to end this with a quote of sorts. It is the "Priestess speech" from the Gnostic Catholic Mass, which I performed more times than I can possible count. Filled with metaphor and symbol for those who care to look. If you ever want to hear it spoken, I'd be happy to oblige. Ask me any time you see me. Trust me, it's engraved on my very soul. I will never forget it.

"But to love me is better than all things; if under the night-stars in the desert thou presently burnest mine incense before me, invoking me with a pure heart, and the serpent flame therein, thou shalt come a little to lie in my bosom. For one kiss wilt thou then be willing to give all; but whoso gives one particle of dust shall lose all in that hour. Ye shall gather goods and store of women and spices; ye shall wear rich jewels; ye shall exceed the nations of the earth in splendour and pride; but always in the love of me, and so shall ye come to my joy. I charge you earnestly to come before me in a single robe, and covered with a rich head-dress. I love you! I yearn to you! Pale or purple, veiled or voluptuous, I who am all pleasure and purple, and drunkenness of the innermost sense, desire you. Put on the wings, and arouse the coiled splendour within you: come unto me!" [Liber AL, I:61] "To me! To me!" [Liber AL, I:62] "Sing the rapturous love-song unto me! Burn to me perfumes! Wear to me jewels! Drink to me, for I love you! I love you. I am the blue-lidded daughter of sunset; I am the naked brilliance of the voluptuous night-sky. To me! To me!" [Liber AL, I:63-65]

© Dawn C. Davis (photo and writing except for excerpt from Liber AL)

Witching Hour

It's 3am...again. Some call it the witching hour, or the devil's hour. I'm almost always awake at this hour. Does that mean I'm a witch? Or in league with the devil? I think I should leave those questions for another time, another story...

I roll over and look at you, sleeping so peacefully. You look young and innocent sleeping, your head on the pillow, your hand tucked under it, the cares of life and the stresses of work erased from your features. A relaxed face, the stubble that you will gripe about in the morning, because it's starting to turn grey. The stubble that I love to feel against my thighs when you take command of my body with your mouth.

Life has been hard lately though. Work for both of us has become stressful, we've gotten lost in the day-to-day mire of jobs, aging parents, caught up in the rat race of letting others dictate our time and energy. Maybe that's what woke me up. The deep thoughts in the middle of the night. I miss our carefree time together. I miss the man who tells me to kneel at his feet and take him in my mouth when he walks in the door. I miss the me that wantonly does so and takes you as deep into my mouth as possible, and then a little bit more just because it pleases you and I love pleasing you.

As I look at you lying in bed, I discover that I miss that most of all...I miss *us*. Where did we go? How did we lose the all important us? Thinking about it in this darkest hour of night, I realize...it doesn't matter how we got here. It's getting back that's important.

With that in mind, I slowly pull back the covers and look at your perfection; because to me, you are perfect. Even in your sleep, even with the innocent look on your face, I know better. I know that you are the man who has always been able to command my attention; with a single look, a softly spoken word, a solitary touch...and I melt into your power.

Looking at you now, the light down low so it won't disturb you, but I am about to disturb you in a way that I hope will please you. I need us back again...so I will serve you. You are deep in sleep and I pause, wondering if what I'm about to do will piss you off, or help bring us back to center. Doing nothing will get us nowhere, so what have I got to lose?

I run my hand gently up your thigh, you shift slightly but you're still fast asleep. I cup your balls and your cock in my hand. You're soft and pliant...it's too early for your usual morning wood. I lean down and lick you, gently taking all of you into my warm moist mouth. You taste so wonderful. I love the feel of you in my mouth all soft, and the fact that I can actually take all of you this way, it makes me moan, it makes me hungry for more. I start to get lost in the feeling of you in my mouth when your hand lands on my head and I hear a sleepy grumble.

"Fuck baby, what....ah shit..."

Your voice gets lost in a gravely moan and your fingers start gripping my hair. You've gotten so hard in my mouth and I can't stop what I've started...even if I wanted to. I'm lost in the feeling of pleasing you. You shift your legs to give me better access and you whisper, "You know what to do, do it."

A shiver rakes through my body because it's "that" voice...the voice I haven't heard in so long, the voice that makes me melt and my insides puddle and start to drip down my thighs. I let my saliva flow freely so that I can do that thing you love so well. My hand is coated now, slippery and my fingers squeeze your balls in the way to your perineum, stroking until you shudder slightly. A single finger finds your tight hole, pushes in slowly; your hips thrust driving your cock deeper into my mouth, a growl escapes your lips. You open slowly to my probing while I release your cock and suck your balls into my mouth, laving them with my tongue, sucking gently.

A second finger joins the first in your ass and I feel your prostate.

"C'mon babygirl, you know what to do."

I melt a little more as I release your balls with a pop, and fall on your cock once more. Two fingers in your tight ass, slowly stroking your prostate, while I take you as deep into my mouth and throat as I can. You stroke my cheek, and then twine your fingers in my hair again, not forcing me, but not letting me up either. Your subtle control, always what drives me over the edge. I growl deep in my throat, vibrating against your cock, your hips thrust your cock deeper into my mouth while each movement rubs my fingers over your sweet spot inside.

I hear your deep groans as your hips continue to buck against me, and then you stiffen and with a growl of warning, you are salty sweet in my mouth. I don't let go, I savor it like the sweetest ambrosia because to me that's exactly what it has always been. My mouth softens on the now sensitive head of your cock, my tongue gently laving your shaft, cleaning every drop.

"Oh, sweet babygirl, I've missed that. I've missed you. Where'd this come from?"

I can't look at him. I'm still a little lost. "I've missed us. We got lost and I need you. I need you to need me."

He gathers me in his arms, "Babygirl...I know life has been hard lately. I need you so much. I'm sorry I haven't shown you that. But you've given me the best reminder. Now I need you to lay back and let me give you some more of what you need."

And that's exactly what he does. His fingers, his tongue, his cock, possess every square inch of me and I know once again that I belong and am cherished.

As we cuddle up together, just about to drift off to sleep, I hear his soft voice as he strokes my head, "And next week, when I come home from work, you'd best be waiting at the door for me wearing nothing but a smile."

I drift off to sleep knowing we're okay.


Both story and image:
© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2014

Heart Flutters

Anticipation...
The journey of going
Where will the tortuous enveloping pain take me this time?
How can I serve?
How will you use me?

Expectation...
The edge of knowing
The implements of my pleasure...pain...pleasure
The wonder of letting go
The power of submitting

Suspense...
The power of you
To crawl inside my mind and fuck it like the last thing on earth
The magic of dominance
The power of the dance

Excitement...
The beauty of nature
Inspiring visions of creativity and art; lust and longing
The feel of the thorns
The smell of the rose

Promise...
Of stimulating conversation
Sharing the essence of who we are, where we want to go, what we want to be
The vision of you, of me, of us
The longing of anticipation...


© Dawn C. Davis (photo and prose)

That Place Between

Between one thought and the next

You have me wrapped around your finger as you lead me to bed

Between the sheets you touch my body
As you devour my mind with your wicked thoughts

Between the synapses of my scattered feelings
You destroy my preconceived notions of pleasure

Between my thighs there is a place yearning to be filled
As you indulge in the very essence of my being

Between one breath and the next
You have taken me to the brink of destruction, the edge of rapture, that place that is between


Photo and prose © Dawn C. Davis

Aftershocks

Orgasms being ripped from my body
Torn from the very center of my being
Forced upon me, one on top of another
There is no longer a you or a me, there is only the never-ending orgasm
Until I lay drenched and sated
Relaxing into the moment, the afterglow of primal sex
Feeling there is no more within me
Minutes pass and my body convulses with the pleasure tearing through me once again
Even though there is no further stimulation
A smile upon your lips, understanding what you have done
More time passes and another convulsion as yet another orgasm rips through me
A gentle touch of your hand as you quiet me
Moments go by and a ripple spreads through me as I release yet again
Your hand resting on me as you own what you have done to me
Another stretch of time, the clock ticking and another paroxysm engulfs my body
You watch with satisfaction
What feels like hours later and another eruption pours through me in waves of unending pleasure
You hold me as I circle earth’s orbit, knowing you have taken me there.

© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2014

Image © Dawn C. Davis ~ 2014

The Dewy Rose

The soft outer petals gently open to expose the precious flower.

The inner petals releasing the essence of the perfume that draws him in.

A finger gently touching, aiding the flower to open more fully to his demands.

Dipping into the secret folds until the moisture is liberated from the depths.

Stroking in and out, the dewy folds blossom, inviting a deeper possessive taking.

Bending down, his tongue touches the extract, licking the sweet ambrosia.

Penetrating fingers claim the center as tongue devours.

Lips encompass the bud and suckles.

Pressure building inside.

The flower plump and ready to give all.

Quivering petals rescued from the chains of desire.

The elixir of pleasure bursts forth across his waiting lips.

Fingers plunging, in and out, tongue lapping the elixir of delight.

Peace descends on the precious flower, petals relaxed and open, waiting for the piercing claim that starts it all again.

© Dawn C. Davis ~ 2014

Image © Dawn C. Davis ~ 2013

In The Woods

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