Dominance in kink is like magic on an intimate level; you are like a performer and partner to wow the collective senses that are your audience.
To create a grand spectacle you become like an illusionist, captivating the people at your reach with the pleasure and pain of sight sound sensation and suggestion.
Every moan coo scream cry and sigh taking place of the applause for a wonder well crafted and performed.
But the true illusion is that you as a dominant are in complete control.
The balance of desires preparation and quality of character among all parties involved is a demanding master, created in an agreement to achieve a plethora of details for the experience
Like a child using their imagination to liven a doll during playtime, you depend on your audience's allowance for the magic to happen.
If the connection to the desires of your partnership are scattered to the wind, so goes your magic...and a life without magic seems very vanilla to me.

I sit with spiked orange juice and warm tea for the night, reading post after post of someone seeking someone and I think- Good for them; presentation leaves something to be desired, but the urges of their private parts have a tendency to run the fingers as their own fantasies run the mind wild. Urges acted upon to fulfil desires for things people do not yet know, as if fucking for fucking's sake was running the show for fucks sake...with no bait to chase in give and take (oh no I'm rambling in light rhyme again).
I open no doors to captivate my beating heart
but a comfortable lap I have.
but a giving heart I have.
To put on a show for the senses of someone who means something is the mission all of Fetlife exists to serve when you really meet the people.
I meet the people with open doors to the mind, not open pants or a smitten heart for the taking.

But I will give you my lap and will hear your story
And spin you a tale of a caring mind in return.

Her words beat past my closed doors and struck me in the chest by accident, and I say accident because she was just telling the table her intent to write the names of people whom she would someday do something nice for in a book she kept with her, an intent to return a blessing to those who blessed her. She did not seek the attention, but from that...I found a person who might shape the world if she wanted...and she wants to travel the world too, so it goes hand in hand. Hearing more of her beliefs, who she was in spirit, my doors just happened to swing wide and this woman became more beautiful to me than anyone I had ever seen at the time.

She was pretty, but the soul she shared made her gorgeous, and everyone who was anyone saw it.
And all I had done was buy drinks for the table.

but THIS is someone worth investing in.
I feel like this is what turns my attention
Show me a piece of your soul
not the dirt that life tries to stain the soul
but the shining of the soul itself
and I will hunger to see more
and maybe even show the world

So a tip for you. To the people with emotions worth gring, great personality and spirit mean EVERYTHING.

Flawed circumstances to light my fire
its my fire to flame, and it will burn away that which does not matter.
But if nothing else, she matters.

Wikipedia aptly defines Dacryphilia as a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing.

Years ago in middle school; it started with a bully calling me a thief, unjustfully i should add. I blacked out and awoke with the girl i had a crush upon ghing and wide-eyed with fear. My hands were choking the life from my tormentor as I was somehow pushed past my limit. But when I opened my eyes, what I saw led me down the path to a Fetlife profile a decade later. She looked at me as if I were a monster and I was stunned by her gaze, with an arousal that seemed to haunt my days. I loved the way I held her focus, like the star of an evil show. And this might very well be the source of sadistic desires hidden behind a sincere caring heart. But I do identify as a sadist in the making.

But back to the tears, they add detail to an arousal of the mind, but are they a factor of the arousal or the driving force to arousal, i cannot yet say. What I can say is maybe I'd like to see you cry.

The justification is not there, so people trudge through stages of cognitive dissonance, so I put my mind at ease making friends with my inner demons like the best eccentrics always do. I enjoy seeing hearing and feeling people react to pain, even when it brings them to tears. I'll own that fact. Some women look beautiful afterwards as well, but the tears wash away...yet my mind feels stained, an addictive personality will do that to you.
This is where I am in my understanding of things...I am selfish; I only enjoy crying when the tears are a result of my impact or for mutual enjoyment I take part in. If they are not tears from pain felt in search of pleasure I offer help to wipe them away. I am certain many of us are like this; but the purpose for my post is that I feel I should make up (or at least attempt my best) for the tears I cause, or are a part of, and I've given to make that happen but my mind still feels that the balance isn't there. It feels I owe a debt to my own soul for enjoying others' tears. And giving is the only way I know how.

So maybe I want to be the cuddly sadist I show when i laugh and smile, but not until I know the lover I am isn't burdened by the monster I have been.

Love does not come from human hearts, it comes through them. This is why you cannot commit the mind to create love, but you can let the soul sweep itself in the strength of love and its current. Real Love comes from God; that ability to see that the responsibility of another's emotions and well being is a gift. Love is supposed to present the experience of being with YOU as a gift to someone with whom you feel blessed to be with; which must be why mothers are considered blessed with child. This is why people have said that a woman was a gift to a man; not that she was someTHING to be possessed, but that the experience of her was worth holding onto TIGHTLY. This could be why the search for romantic love calls us to be somewhat vulnerable, which no one wants to be...but we have the chance to gain so much, and God will either tap you on the shoulder, or slap you in the face, when he sees how much you have to gain in being blessed by, and blessing, someone.

You sense something that grs your attention...God or fate or luck put you at that time and place to have your eyes opened. The presence of someone who is worth paying attention to. This brings about the attention to detail your kind of mind is well known for. You can often feel the change in your soul when they are nearby and somehow know the right thing to say upon instinct. You care about their well being as though it were entwined with yours because in some ways it very well might have been. Magic is crafted with the details you remember and the things you feel should be said, but such is not something to be ignored. The skills can be learned, as many have and shall, but only a select few will ever find such focus. When all that comes to mind is evening teas in comfy chairs, wandering museum halls, and tripping over dancefloors, don't lose focus