{Impressions} Mark of DV8House: Tiger in black leather

Before the event there had been a casual online flirt, but I had no idea.Most skills a Dominant might learn can be taught. How one throws a single tail with accuracy to flick the skin or slice it wide. How to use electrical equipment with dexterity and creative application. How ropes can be most effectively used to create your vision. But it is very challenging to teach the ability to channel and aim Dominant energy, how to create energetic space, how to make a magnet or build a wall that none may enter. Mark of DV8 House has that power, and more importantly, has the assuredness in that personal power to draw upon the deep battery of his soul to do the work his will demands. For what is magic that making the will manifest beyond what the uninspired world might imagine?Having played and fucked his way around the club, straight, queer, leather, BDSM, rope, and sexuality communities down under and elsewhere for years, the emerald of his sexual identity has been polished and formed into a multifaceted thing indeed. Rich and deep, if given the opportunity to hold the priceless gem in your hands light reflects your own faces back from a myriad angles- just as I expect to see myself as lover, suddenly I see the child, the student, the tigress, the humiliated whore, the cherished prize, the leather boy, the boot pig, the fish on the end of his reel, the intellectual coffee date. For someone like myself, finding such a rare gem is a find indeed.There was a lot of talk this weekend, after my two hour required attendance rant on safety and communication, about negotiation. As checklists and 14 hour systems of establishment were banded about, I heard his lips behind me echo my feeling- what about the one night stand? What about reading the eyes and the scent from her thighs? What about hard cocks saying yes please yes now? What about a skein of rope in hand a dare in your grin? Across the room I see a hand on the crotch of a pair of leather pants and he can tell I’m wet under my kimono- and ropes fly with my shoulder blades back together and my ankle pulled up- why script when we can improv with the best?What is sexy about bravado is knowing that it is not just a mask. Seeing all the power trips shut off for a conversation about life and Milan and then at a wink seeing him pull it all back out and the leathers come to life. Seeing the ballsiness balance with the love of a long term partner and seeing to her needs. Bravado that is just bravado is nothing without personality behind it that is honest and true. Bravado is just an ego trip if it does not come from a core of power and self-awareness.Dirty man. As a fist slips up inside me with a heel in the air he fucks me with his word and makes me squirt everywhere whispering in my ear how hot it is knowing the carpet will need dry cleaned. Come on, good girl, that’s right you dirty slut, give it to me again, again, soak my hand you cunt, oh yeah, that’s it, open up, give it to me… maybe next time you’ll earn my cock.He opens up his arms wide to the world and says yeah, this is me- take it or leave it. I have excuses, but choose not to use them… because I own my matched set of baggage, black leather and silver buckles with a high price tag. He gives what he has to offer out to the world if asked- but will pump it out for those who open their arms wide in return- “Of course we’re going to do one on one time with someone like you,” he tells one of our shared students in a hallway, “You’re totally up front about who you are, go to the heart of the matter, and are eager to learn with an open heart- who are we supposed to give our energy to- the nameless masses who just want the skills- no way.”Mark is woofy. He plays hard and dirty, gritty and authentic. His moderate height and deliciously thick form decorated with soft black fur transform into a god-form as a lip curls up in mobster style and her grunts under his breath, a heady mix of Italian hot leather looks and Australian self sufficiency. Immaculate leathers, a hand unbuttons his fly and flinger slip down almost as if to give you the world… but leave you wanting more. He puts a girl up in the air, teaches it step by step, shows a room full of students what they can do- then hints at other skills… leave them wanting more. Turn on the pheromones, turn on the charm, turn on the mad skills, lure them in and then tease after giving enough to barely satiate what we know we could have.But beyond all this, the most impressive thing to me about this leather-clad tiger was his honesty about how relationships work. “We’re going to see each other again, and it will be good. But if I tell you we’ll play again next time, it would be a lie. Neither of us knows what will be happening in either of our lives next time our paths cross.” What matters is that we know that the paths will cross, in some way, some time- and with authentic souls, who cares what happens next time. That’s not to say I wouldn’t pout if I never had him rope me again, catching each knot on my harness and jerking me hard as I gasp between moans. But that connections, honest open and true connections with friends who connect on a true kindred spirit level have been made- that is far more precious than any sort of play. Welcome to my life tiger. Good to have you here old friend.