Goddess
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“True power does not need arrogance, a long beard and a barking voice.
True power strangles you with silk ribbons, charm, and intelligence.” – Zizek Slavoj.
JAGUARESS.
NOIRE, melanistic.
A steel boned & killer legged fucking diva.
With thick round thighs and an ass that could sink the titanic.
(video) Her natural presence, posture and how she walks.
(video) Pronunciation and refinement of her vocal tones.(video) Soothing and resonating voice, with a slight lisp.
(video) Confident in herself and without shame, elegant.
Look at those cheekbones. I could cut myself slapping that face.
A woman, probably in her early forties, whose form was matured by age, but not flawed by it. Experience in her step spoke of the years that had taught her the confidence of her beauty. The face of the Domina was ageless, neither old nor young, though in it was written the memory of many things both glad and sorrowful. Her face, with its aquiline nose and high, sharp cheekbones, held a harsh, imperious beauty that was unblurred by the ravages of time. She was tall and commanding, eroticism in it's most raw and sinuous form evoking the image of understated power and disturbing intensity. Her body a sanctum of irrestible, all-embracing passion and primal depth. From the fiercy curve of meticulously groomed brows, to the arched sculpted nostrils that sported a hoop of tarnished gold, she oozed solemn and grave elegance. Her expression beautifully frozen in a scowl, with her aurulent eyes accentuated just by a black beauty mark beneath her right eye, and rich jet-black lashes. Curves were as relentless in their luxury as her face, simple yet solely occupying. Beneath sharp, feminine features and beyond the primitive prowess of the Domme, there lay a woman of iron and heart; a dark, sensual creature of whim and desire. Where many believed her aloof, those who were held dear knew her to be kind, and fiercely loyal. For her art, she was proud; taking great care in training her slaves, perfecting both body and mind. A balanced woman, by any measure. While her hands hold great passion for the beat of the smithing hammer, they will never abandon their irrevocably feminine grace.
“What monstrosities would walk the streets, were some people's faces as unfinished as their minds.” – Eric Hoffer.
Her body is the very essence of the poppy; she is regal, beautiful, and deliciously exquisite, and undoubtedly her nectar is a mind-changing poison. She has a voice like hot tar; thick, and smooth, yet gorgeously dark, and with a wonderful masculinity about its tones. She's a body meant for labor; strong, and well-proportioned, yet she is endowed as one would expect a succubus to be; for temptation, and flirtation. Her fur is luxurious and glistens as you walk by her; it's what caught my eye initially. That, and her eyes. They glow with a dark golden shine as though from the very heavens themselves. Yet her trade is one of such lust and sin, that even I found myself blushing in her presence. She seems not to find any concern in the feelings and thoughts of others - she knows what she likes, and that is something about her that I find myself very much attracted to. She has a matriarchal quality, and yet a waifish wonder. I very much seek to be the boon of her attention; a bounty upon which she seeks to dote. I'm sure that to hold her affection is a rewarding prospect.
— Baron Ruben Tiberius ( Letter received: Jul 2012 )
Wrapped in black and gold, it's not a wonder truthfully. The first time I met her I admired her wit and tact. Her composure was excellent and her decorum proper. Even in a bad mood, she is quite a sight to behold and talk to. Her tact is impossible to read and I find that absolutely thrilling. A well knowledged woman is a weapon all on it's own. Thusly her name is aptly dubbed. She knows her advantages and disadvantages from the moment she walks into the room. And uses them intelligently and slyly, to leave you guess and hanging for more. I have to admit, she is definitely a muse. But none the less I can forsee a great friendship blooming from this. And I ever so am honored that such a witty pretty thing thinks that I could ever even add to her immense knowledge. May she live proudly, strongly, compassionately and bravely.— Prof. Ailment ( Letter received: Mar 2021 )
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GALLERY NEEDS TO BE UPDATED!
Currently, step by step moving from imgur to imgbb.
Stay tuned, please <3
This is Daggers most precise artwork, and can be used as a reference.
Artwork of her and her friends.
More artwork for your viewing pleasure, either comissioned or gift-art. Do not use without permission.
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Commissioned Artwork / Giftart.
The following artwork is not accurate anymore.
2015, the Jaguaress woke up and had grown a pair of horns almost over night, as part of a plot-twist due to her being part dragon.
This means, while the artwork depicts the character, Dagger does not look completely like this anymore as she changed over time.
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Despite monochrome coloration, there's many details setting her apart.
• Legendary tush, thick thighs and long legs give her a killer-shape. With a bosom to match, curves make for a unique silhouette.
• The beauty mark under her right eye close to the corner is called la passionnée. It is a natural mark on her fur, and not a fake.
• Upon closer inspection a word can be found carved into the golden hoop through her nostrils. The word is different each day.
• Her walk evokes a ticking pendulum, part saunter - part sway. Each step is instinctively calculated, much like hunting her prey.
• High cheekbones, a prominent jawline, and sedulously groomed brows result in a stoic, unyielding and orgulous countenance.
Name: Dagger Species: Jaguar & Dragon. Age: 45 Height: 6'6" Hair: black (Mallen streak). Fur: black Eyes: gold
Face: A sublime and imperturbable expression. Her aquiline nose and high, sharp cheekbones, hold a harsh, imperious beauty Scent: Smells of damp, well-worn black leather, combined more often than not with amber, styrax, patchouli and olibanum. Dialect: Notable German accent, due to heritage. Pronunciation sounds crisp and throaty, with the 'R' being rolled harshly.
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The sigil of her house, and how she marks her craft as well as her slaves. 
All property owned by the Jaguaress will have the mark of her house; this also includes slaves in her care. If owned, slaves will have the seal branded upon them with hot iron, whereas rented slaves will be marked with golden paint upon their foreheads. All of the items she crafts will also bear her insignia, this does not extend to repairs of mundane items, but more elaborate repairs may be marked if the she feels enough of her energy has gone in to the item. Papers written by her hand always bear an emblem.
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The boudoir of the regal domina.
She wears her opulent mane in a ponytail, or in a thick braid most of the times.Hairstyle: 
Her locks are meticulously sculpted through aid of an hot iron and scented oils.
Her boudoir boasts approximately 500 eye catching garments of exotic origin.
Garments:
With an affinity towards leather laced corsets and not wearing anything at all.
Usually seen with her feet bare, to allow worship from servants and slaves.
Footwear:
Well manicured claws are often found in high-heeled boots or ballet-heels.
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P L A Y L I S T
Open a new tab.
A. AVIDAN — Her Lies
SAODAJ' — Pokor Lèr
PUCSIFER — Rev 22:20
I. DANIELSON — Power
MILA MAR — Djanga
Ane Brun — DO YOU REMEMBER (orig.)
Theodor Bastard — BUDEM ZHIT' (live)
Lebanon Hanover — GALLOWDANCE
She Past Away — KASVETLI KUTLAMA
Indila — DERNIÈRE DANSE&EGO