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WellShinedBoots

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Friends:
MistressBrie23christycox

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Updated January 2020

I am interested in a variety of outcomes, so feel free to say hi and well see where things go, and well take as much or little time as we want getting there.

A few things about me, (in no particular order and with no guarantee of completeness)

I made the whip I am holding in my profile picture. Its a nine foot paracord bullwhip. I have also made several shorter whips that are more practical for indoor use. My most recent is a three and a half foot bullwhip (bit short to really be called a bullwhip, but it has a stiff handle so its not a snake whip).

Outside of kink I enjoy motorcycles, music, art, making things.... I enjoy the ballet, prefer movie trailers that dont insist that youll love the movie, and never seem to get around to watching that t.v. series I thought looked good.

I am currently in one (open) Ms relationship. We have been together since around 2003.

I am not a fan of peas by themselves. They are alright in stew and such though. I am a big fan of frozen White Castle burgers though - I can have burgers in under 2 minutes even if its 2 AM.

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4/9/2018 12:18:33 PM
I've noticed the number of views I get on here has gone up slightly since Craigslist stopped doing personals. It hasn't exactly translated into more messages yet, but hey, it's something.

3/15/2018 8:39:20 PM
I find it funny that so many people choose to address their profiles to whom they don't wish to interact with rather than whom they do.

2/3/2018 1:15:37 AM
Parting idea for tonight: I love the idea of a girl eating out of my hand - figuratively and literally.

1/6/2018 2:59:41 AM
Coffee Table

"The guests will be here soon. Time to get things ready."

Thing, which was her current name and had been for the last two years, waited for instructions. Of course, she was only one of the "things" Master was referring to - one item among others such as snacks and beer. She would eventually be told what to do, but until then she would wait near the wall, naked save for a steel collar. She supposed Master would hand her the outfit she used the last few times he had guests over - a dress a bit too short and revealing to be respectable, but still a dress and more than Thing was entitled to.

Master's guests never seemed to speak directly to Thing. From what she overheard it seemed they thought Master had hired an escort to serve food and drinks. Some of the guests clearly disapproved of her. Others seemed to enjoy her presence. A few of the less sophisticated guests would try to "accidentally" rub her body or steal glances under her dress, and were usually successful given that she was explicitly forbidden to try any action that might discourage such acts.

Eventually Master approached Thing. He was carrying some white cloth. At first Thing thought it might be some kind of toga outfit. Master did not hand her the cloth though. Instead Thing was directed to a spot in front of the couch and told to get on her hands and elbows. After looking at Thing for a moment, Master then put some blocks under Thing's elbows. A few more moments of inspection and a glass tabletop about three feet wide and five feet long was placed on Thing's back, followed by the tablecloth Thing had mistaken for a toga. The cloth nearly reached the floor. Thing was completely covered, though her toes were rather close to the edge of the cloth. Master didn't say a word to Thing after ordering her to her knees - he didn't have to, since it was clear Thing was meant to stay silent and motionless until relieved of the tabletop. Thing assumed this would not happen until after the guests were gone, and mentally prepared herself to maintain the position for the next few hours despite the hard wood floor and blocks already pushing into her knees and elbows.

Thing felt a few things being placed on the table, probably the chips and salsa. Not long after she heard guests arriving and the TV turn on. A football pregame was playing. "At least this will give me a general guess of how long I'll be here" thought Thing. Soon people were plopping down on the couch. A few boots and shoes were sticking in under the cloth, just inches from Thing. Beers and plates were set on what they probably assumed was just a coffee table. Thing took an easy breath, already wanting to move her arms and legs to ease the pressure and yet not daring to do so lest it shake the tabletop.

This is when the situation really sunk into Thing's head. Here she was, naked and unable to move, inches from strangers' feet, and hidden only by a tablecloth. Even though she had been naked 99% of the time for the last two years, and hadn't exactly been covered even when dressed, only Master had actually seen her naked. Aside from the few times she had served food and drink in the past, he had always placed her safely away in the bedroom closet while guests were over. The closest to this situation she had been in before were the handful of times Master had brought a lady home for the night, and even then Thing never really thought she would be found, especially since she was fairly sure the closet door had been locked. Now though, with every breath she took and every shift of a shoe Thing was sure she would be found out, that the tablecloth would be pulled away, revealing her naked body to everyone. She also knew Master probably wouldn't try to hide her at that point either. Thing knew full well that the dress she wore previously wasn't for her benefit and was only provided for the comfort of some of Master's more socially conservative guests. In the back of her mind Thing was fairly sure she would eventually be exposed to some stranger, but it hadn't happened yet and still turned her face red thinking about it.

After what felt like forever, Thing heard the game come to an end. It had been a close one, and every big play had made Thing's heart race. Not so much due to the game itself (though Thing had payed attention the whole time to try to keep her mind off of her throbbing limbs), but because with every big play she would see feet moving, feel hands smacking the table, and just knew the top would go sprawling, leaving her exposed in the middle of the floor. A bit of banter, and guests started leaving. Once it got quiet, the tabletop was cleared, tablecloth removed, and the glass was lifted off of her back. Thing stretched a bit as Master removed the blocks from under her arms, but remained in nearly the same position, waiting for permission to rise.
"Eyes forward." This wasn't the order Thing was expecting, but she obeyed, staring directly in front of her. Then she felt Master's fingers run up between her legs. "Looks like today got you excited." Thing hadn't actually noticed until that point, but could feel that yes, Master was quite right. Almost immediately after making the observation, the fingers disappeared and Thing felt herself being penetrated, deep and repeatedly. Her nervous energy channeled directly into the sensation, bringing her to a peak much quicker than usual. Against orders, Thing involuntarily shut her eyes, gasping for air. She was shaking when she finally felt the thrusting slow down. As she opened her eyes she saw Master standing in front of her. Thing began to thank Master for using her, but as her wits returned she realized the man who had fucked her was just now pulling out and thus couldn't have been Master. Her face turned red, and the two years of constant obedience only barely kept her from turning to see who had actually taken her.

It only took a few minutes for the mystery guest to gather himself and leave, but to Thing it seemed forever as she looked up at Master, body trembling, a tear finally dripping from her glassy eyes. After the front door closed, Master took a step forward. Thing kissed his boot and pressed her cheek to the floor by his feet. After a few moments Master gave the next order. "Clean yourself up, then take care of the dishes." Thing did so, a bit taken aback that Master seemed so casual about what just happened. This was a big deal! Master had never shared her before, and now she didn't even know what the person looked like. She had a turmoil of emotions going on and he hadn't even given her a "good girl." It was like she wasn't even a person to him. Like she was just a... thing. Exactly what she had come here for. Exactly what she had given up her name for. A tear ran down her cheek and crossed her lips. Thing smiled at the taste.


9/23/2017 8:42:17 PM
Folsom tomorrow!

9/23/2017 1:38:14 AM
I find profiles a bit annoying to write. I know who I am and what I mean, but often the words I come up with are only close and rarely complete.

In other words, if what I say is way off from what you're looking for, I'm probably not the dominant for you. If it's only off by a few details though, it might have more to do with that day's literary effort than actual differences. Feel free to ask for clarification if you're on the fence.


9/9/2017 6:08:43 PM
I am not looking to "earn" anyone's submission. I'm a dominant looking for submissives. Many submissives are looking for a dominant. I have my criteria on who I want and they have theirs. It's just a matter of crossing paths with the right person and both of us recognizing it. Maybe that will happen at first sight, more likely it will take a while.

So if it takes you a while to decide if I'm the right master for you, that's fine, take your time. I'm not going to "earn" your submission. I'm going to continue being myself and eventually you'll either submit or you won't.



7/28/2017 11:36:07 AM
Dore Alley is this weekend. I haven't been in a few years, maybe I'll swing by.

11/6/2016 5:54:34 PM
So you think you're the perfect slave/submissive?

Disobey me.

...
...
...

Now that you've failed your first task, feel free to say hi.


8/4/2016 10:44:14 PM
Is screwing in a light bulb by yourself really just masturbating in a light bulb?

2/14/2016 12:32:11 AM
Die Menschpferde

(side note - some liberty was taken with realism for the sake of plot devices)

Sid took step after deliberate step, still unsteady in the black horse hoof boots that had been locked to his feet. His arms were secured behind him in a single sleeve arm binder. The bit gag with its centered two inch ball pulled at the sides of his mouth. Side blinders on his head harness restricted his vision, and straps prevented him from turning his head more than a couple inches. A rubber cock ring had been placed tightly on his shaft, causing him to maintain a painful erection even without arousal.

Worst though was the contraption which held his neck. A solid wood turnstile, neck high reached out about a yard. His neck was locked into the end like a stockade. The turnstile was driven by a strong motor at a slow but steady pace. Sid would continue to walk and hopefully not stumble, for otherwise he would be dragged around until he regained his footing.

Nearly every day since arriving Sid had spent eight hours a day, in two four hour shifts, on this machine. Today however, before the afternoon shift began, another horse had been brought in and attached to the opposite side of the turnstile, in its identical neck hole. This female (Sid had learned quickly that neither he nor any other in his situation were to be referred to as "man" or "woman") was definitely new to the pens. She was already fitted with the same style hoof boots, same arm binder, and same bit and head harness as Sid was, but did not go to the yoke easily. She had lunged at the walls, fought for the gate, and even fell once despite the handler's efforts. She kicked at their shins, earning a strong red stripe across her bare ass from the handler's crop. Sid nearly lost his balance when the new female collided with the turnstile, but the handlers finally had her locked into the yoke. Stepping away they flipped the switch and the turnstile began its steady rotation.

Sid couldn't quite see the female now that they were in the machine, but he had seen plenty of her bare, energetic body during the struggle, and he could hear her cries now, alternating between angry yells and defeated sobs. Sid wanted to speak and comfort her, but the bit gags prevented anything resembling articulate speech. Besides, Sid knew how bad the punishment could be if a handler caught either of the speaking, and he neither wanted to cause the female or himself any additional hardship. Her spirited actions and splendid body had also brought up some long overdue feelings of arousal, and his already painfully throbbing cock swelled against the cursed cock ring.

Attraction gradually mixed with frustration, annoyance, and finally anger as the hours went by. This female did not walk steady, causing the yoke to bounce back and forth against Sid's neck. She periodically threw fits, shaking the yoke. A couple times Sid responded with angry growls which seemed to only infuriate the female. At least seven times she fell, causing the yoke to pivot rapidly upwards, slamming into Sid's chin and partially choking him until the female regained her footing. Sid tried to remind himself he had fallen a few times when he was first locked to the machine, but when he fell, there wasn't a horse on the other end being bruised up and punished.

When the shift finally ended, the trainers removed the female first. Her struggles were much smaller than when she came in, her body likely exhausted. Sid stared at her body, rekindling his arousal despite the sweat and dust that now coated her skin. Sid heard one of the handlers speak, "Come on Bitsy, time to hose you off and wipe you down." So, the female's name was Bitsy. The name stuck in Sid's head until the handlers returned to lead him from the machine.

To Sid's delight, he and Bitsy were led to the same feeding trough. Sid felt the welcome relief as his arms were removed from the arm binder and instead locked down across the feed trough. The new position was not all that comfortable, but any new position is a relief after four hours of another.  A wooden beam was in front of the feed trough just about waist high, and the trough was just under this height, causing Sid as well as Bitsy to lean forward over the beam at a right angle. Sid could reach his head forward just enough to reach the watery slop which served as his dinner. Later in the night pins only water would be provided. Still, once Sid got used to it the slop didn't taste that bad, and there was plenty to fill up on. Looking to his side, Bitsy was not touching the slop. Oh well, thought Sid, she'll be hungry tonight and learn to fill up soon enough.

Coming in, Sid had noticed that Bitsy's ankles had also been secured, with a space of about four feet between them. Sid's ankles had never been secured this way, and he supposed that Bitsy had been kicking the handlers again. The handlers had also not removed Sid's cock ring after hosing him down, which they generally did after a session on the turnstile. Sid was painfully aware of the extra ache, and hoped it was only an oversight which would be tended to after feeding.

What finally convinced Sid that something new was up happened when the handlers returned. Normally after feeding his hands were cuffed in fingerless mitts and chained to a collar around his neck by a short chain, which he wore while in his pen sleeping. The hooves were also removed then, allowing his skin to breathe during the night. Instead, his arms were placed back in the arm binder and Sid was led over to Bitsy, who was still chained over the trough.

"Your lucky day, Sid! We've been promised a nice stud fee, so now it's time for you to hold up our end of the bargain. Get to it!" As Sid realized what he was being directed to do a mixture of thoughts came to his head, and a very straightforward thought raced to his cock. He very much wanted to do exactly this, but at the same time had saw Bitsy's knees try to close as the handler's spoke. Sid had no way to ask, Betsy had no way to reply, and in all honesty neither had much choice anyway. A stinging crop across Sid's ass let him know that he had thought about this too long already.

Sid approached Bitsy's unprotectable hind quarters. He could hear Bitsy whining at the trough, but he also saw her back drop and knees part and straighten. Sid felt Bitsy's moist cunt, rubbing his shaft across its lips. Both bodies shook as he pressed his cock home into the undeniably aroused Bitsy. Almost immediately both Sid and Bitsy embraced the animals they now were, thrashing away, unaware of the handlers looking on. At one point Sid recalled the bruises received on the turnstile, his emotions channeling those angry feelings into ever more furious thrusts, though Bitsy seemed to be receiving these blows with much more enthusiasm than Sid had earlier.

When Sid was finally ready to cum, the ring initially held back the pressure. Sid felt he would pass out from the pain if it wasn't for the equally intense pleasure. Finally Sid felt it shoot forth into Bitsy. Sid laid down against Bitsy's back, trying to caress her skin the best he could. To his disappointment, the handlers pulled him away less than a minute after he had discharged his load.

Sid was cleaned up, de-ringed, and prepared for his pen in the usual way. Sid had hoped that Bitsy would be brought back to the turnstile with him the next day, but was disappointed as the motor was switched on with only his own neck attached. By that evening the reality had sunk in. He had been introduced to Bitsy for one purpose, and that purpose had been fulfilled. Bitsy was probably on her way back to her owners and handlers, and Sid was back to his routine.

Of course, there was always the chance it didn't take, and she would be brought back for a second attempt. Sid let that thought drift through his head, a pleasant distraction to the long hours of his daily routine.



1/21/2016 11:39:32 PM
another story


This was Nil's last task before she was allowed her reward. A week ago she had told her master that she would enjoy seeing a particular movie that was coming out. Normally when Nil mentioned something like this to her master he would take note of it without making any immediate indication of his decision. Nil had learned it was her role not to expect to be allowed such leisure, but rather to enjoy any leisure as it was allowed.

This time had been an exception though. Nil was instructed to serve the full week in a very formal protocol usually reserved for when her master had guests over. The dinners requested all seemed to take twice as long to prepare as the usual fare, and the difficulty was compounded with the demand that dinner was to start at exactly 6:30 as indicated by the chime of the grandfather clock. Normally after serving her master Nil would serve herself and sit across from him at the table, though during formal protocol she did not eat until the last dish or glass was cleared and she was dismissed, at which point she would eat in the kitchen. Breakfast was likewise a bigger production, and Nil had gotten up an hour earlier all week as eggs benedict replaced the usual scrambled eggs and fresh from scratch biscuits replaced the usual toast.

Despite all the extra chores though, conditioning all the floggers, polishing the silver, etc., the most physically demanding task was just now beginning. Master had left at 8:00 for town and would not be back until noon. Before he left he placed Nil in her current predicament and told her that if she managed to maintain her situation until he returned and told her to let go then he would take her to the movie that afternoon.

The situation Nil had been left in was a variant on the "wooden horse." She was left astride a 2"x6" plank of wood about 8' long, with each end suspended by chain from the basement ceiling. The variation was that on one end the chain, rather than being attached directly to the ceiling, looped over a pair of pulleys and attached to a wooden handle about a foot long. Nil was holding this handle directly over her head. Pulling down on the handle would lift the board which was already pressed hard up between her legs. The height had been adjusted such that she was on her toes even when her hands were fully extended above her, and even then there was still a light pressure from the board. Aside from Nil's grasp of the handle, the front chain was only held up by a light duty break away clip. Thus all Nil had to do to get out of the situation was to let go of the handle, however this would break the clip and even if Nil managed to grab the handle and get back into position before her master returned, it would be obvious she had let got at some point.

For the first fifteen minutes Nil had kept most of her weight on her toes, keeping the pressure on her crotch to a minimum. There was no clock visible, but she knew that she was nowhere near finished when her calves started to ache. She knew it was going to come to this eventually but it still took a deep breath to ease down, allowing the board and handle to take some of her weight. Rolling her hips back Nil let more weight sink onto her asshole. With the marathon ahead of her she knew every muscle in her body and every sensitive inch between her legs would have to do its part, but she might as well start with a slightly less sensitive area.

It was probably around two hours in when Nil reached the point where she felt she had to roll her hips forward. Her ass was throbbing and as she pivoted forward she felt a huge wave of relief from her backside simultaneous with a fresh, intense pain from in front. Her breathing was deep as she squeezed her eyes shut. Her calves would periodically begin to shake, and it took considerable concentration and will to calm them down. Meanwhile the shaking only made her pussy scream out at her.

In time her pussy too became unbearable and Nil began the inevitable squirming the wooden horse is known for. Tears flowed from her eyes and sweat dripped down her exhausted body. It was approaching 11:30 but Nil was convinced that it had been six, eight, possibly twelve hours. Nil could not hold still. At times she even pulled at the handle for relief, an action that instead only lifted the rail into her and pulled her up off the floor. In her head she screamed at herself - "You can let go! It can all be over! This is madness, let go! Who cares about a movie?!." Instead she held on, fully aware of her own role in this unholy pain. She realized she was doing this to herself, that it wasn't for the movie anymore, that she wanted to suffer, that she needed to suffer, and that this, this crying mass of abused flesh, desperately clinging to the very thing that prolonged her misery, was who she was, was what she was.

She didn't notice her master approach. She didn't know that he never left the house. With her back to the staircase she hadn't seen him slip down to check on her, or see him sit down in the back corner to watch her thrash for the last hour. She first saw him as he wrapped one arm around her waist, grabbed the handle chain in his other hand, and told her in a firm voice to let go. She wrapped her arms around him. As he let the handle lift, lowering the board and snapping the link, Nil's heels finally touched the ground. Her legs couldn't support her and she put her arms over his shoulder, letting his arm around her waist support her weight. Her master then lifted her leg over the lowered, soaked board and carried her upstairs to his bedroom.

Nil laid on her back as her master entered her. He was much more gentle than usual, yet with her pussy still throbbing in pain each thrust was agony. Sweet, blissful agony.

Epilogue: They missed the afternoon show. Nil needed the time to recover, and both were quite content to enjoy how sore and sensitive her body was in the meantime. Her master took Nil to dinner around 8:00 and to a late night showing starting at 10:00. In both places, Nil found it hard to sit without recalling her morning ordeal.



1/12/2016 11:54:46 PM
Alright, what kind of story can I come up with for tonight...

It started when she called her master's new girlfriend a bitch. Now, she knew well that she was to treat any of her master's guests with the same respect and obedience as she was to show her master, and indeed she had done well most of the evening, but she had been poked fun of repeatedly during the visit and the word slipped out while serving wine.

Now here she was, outside for the night. Her master had decided that the punishment should fit the offense and that his slave would spend the night outside as a dog... as a bitch. She had on only a few items - a dog-nosed shaped muzzle, a pair of fist gloves that took away her fingers, a tail attached to a plug in her ass, and her usual steel collar. She shivered as the 60 degree air raised bumps on her otherwise smooth bare skin. The forecast called for lows just above 50 and her only cover would be the doghouse on the far side of the yard.

Her collar was attached to a length of chain about ten feet long. Only a carabiner attached the chain to her collar, but with her "paws" the clip was nearly as efficient as a padlock anyway. Besides, she wouldn't be able to get into the locked house, and where else was she going to take her naked self in this state anyway? Slowly, the slave crawled towards the doghouse and curled up inside. Not that anything physical prevented her from walking, but she knew that she was to be a bitch tonight, and if her master saw her walking upright there would just be worse in store down the road.

The doghouse itself wasn't that bad. It was certainly too small to stretch out in, but it had fresh straw and the walls and roof were thick enough to provide some insulation. Her master had advised that she curl up early so that the doghouse would warm up some before the air outside got too cold. His slave had crawled around outside for a bit, not looking forward to the cramped conditions, but the cool air on her naked skin didn't take long to convince her to take her master's advice.

She curled up inside the house, chain running out the door, thinking to herself that she, and not any of her master's guests, was truly the bitch, the owned animal. With this thought she fell asleep, anxious to return to serving her master.



1/11/2016 12:20:35 AM
I kind of want to strap a camera to a dog's head for a day and then play the recorded video back on a virtual reality headset. "For the next hour, you will have the full first-hand experience of drinking out of a toilet, sniffing countless assholes, and eating your own fresh vomit."

1/9/2016 5:11:16 PM
Lately I've been having fun daydreaming about making a case for a sub. Basically a fiberglass relief molded around her body in two pieces - one to lay down in and one to hinge closed over the top. The fiberglass relief would be about 1/4" or so larger than the sub's body and be lined with about a half inch of memory foam. The top piece would have a gas mask glued into it to provide air. The mask I have includes the somewhat standard drinking straw. Once I come up with a good plan for nutrients (perhaps mounting a second feeding straw) and for waste removal, the time limit for a sub to be in the case would become more or less arbitrary. There are still other health concerns to work out (body heat removal, blood clotting, monitoring, etc.), but the engineer in me likes thinking of those challenges, and ideas will come.

It isn't so much that I want to keep a sub in a case for a long time. In all honesty I would probably bring them out to play with before long anyway. What I am going for is the capability, or more specifically that the sub is aware of this capability. This way when I tell a sub she may be locked away for a long time, she won't know if long means a couple hours, couple days, or couple months. It's the mind fuck of knowing what is possible while not knowing what is planned. Hopefully the lenses in the mask are clear enough to see that moment when the sub starts having second thoughts.

Of course like all daydreaming it will probably be scaled back if I ever even get to it, but it's fun to plan. And if I manage to excite a few subs, even better.



1/5/2016 2:18:54 PM
The kink, bdsm, fetish, etc. scene(s) is full of loosely defined and undefined terms. How often have you heard the phrase A True ____ ? There are vague concepts - Master/slave is usually more about ownership and the giving up of rights, Top/bottom is usually more about physical interactions and scenes, etc., but there's always going to be an exception, and there's generally a lot of overlap. I've met someone who stood by her opinion that "slave" was role play, and that someone in a 24/7 M/s relationship should rightly be called a submissive. I still call my slave a "slave," and while I will admit that in the legal sense it is role play, in our minds it is a real and healthy relationship.

In the end, these identifiers are more about getting someone into the right ballpark in terms of what you mean. A starting point. One word ain't going to tell the story. It's the reality of the dynamic we operate in, and as much as it might bother the precise engineer in me, I'm not sure I would recommend a set-in-stone dictionary.

1/5/2016 10:17:31 AM
So, a television show was making fun of Hooters, saying that changing the menu to attract more female customers was like trying to attract women to your sex dungeon by playing Adele in the background.

Coincidentally, my slave received an Adele album for Christmas, so maybe I'll borrow it and see what happens...

1/3/2016 3:27:39 PM
My fantasy version of a "shopping date" - 

I will have been talking to someone for a bit, long enough to know that there is potential for a good M/s relationship. Both of us are looking for what some would call a TPE relationship, and our particular desires mesh well. In particular I want the power exchange to occur prior to the start of the relationship rather than concurrently. This will allow us to play out the fantasy that no part of the M/s relationship, not even the formation of it, was up to to her.  

I have a break in my schedule coming up, such as an extended weekend. We've wanted to meet for a while and this looks like a good opportunity. I tell her that I will not come for a visit, but will only consider coming if it is to assess her to see if I want her as my slave. In short, before I come out she must offer herself as my slave and the offer must be made with the intent that it cannot be withdrawn without my say so.

During the visit she works hard to show herself as a desirable slave while I assess her strengths and weaknesses, at times enjoying and complimenting her hospitality and at other times examining intimate or embarrassing details the way a customer might ask about a car's service history or a computer's features. She, both salesman and merchandise, me the discerning buyer. I want to remind her that she is a desirable person that nearly anyone else would love to have as an equal partner, yet by her own decision she was merchandise before me, available to be taken or left, used or forgotten, cherished or abused. If she pleases me she may find herself locked in a collar as she desperately desires, but more exciting is that she knows the collar is not hers to accept or reject. If it is placed around her neck she will have no choice in the matter. If it does not appear she is still free, yet she knows that it is a conditional freedom that may be taken away at any second. Even if her neck is still bare when I head home, the knowledge that I could return at any time and claim her makes every day's freedom feel temporary, borrowed from an unknown and vulnerable future. She has agreed to be my slave, and knows not if and when I will collect.

Granted, I have a hard time imagining that I wouldn't accept such a person, and probably spoil her for a smile, but it's much more fun to spoil someone who has enthusiastically given up the right to even the most basic of comfort or praise. A beautiful dress for someone who has given up her right to have any clothing at all. A nice restaurant when she knows that on a whim she could have to survive on water and gruel served in a dog dish. A locked collar when she could be turned out, free and unowned.


Anyway, that's a fantasy I had on a more romantic afternoon. I hope you enjoyed reading it.

(As a disclaimer, I want to state that the merchandise/customer reference is there for the imagery and does not indicate an actual financial transaction.)

12/15/2015 4:04:12 PM
Microwave myself a couple White Castle burgers. Tasty tasty...

11/20/2015 3:08:57 AM
It's 3:00 am and at the moment I am a ravenous dominant. As in, if I had a burrito right now, I would have eaten it by .... now.

11/16/2015 12:20:56 AM
Landed flat on my tailbone this evening. Not BDSM related at all, but certainly a reminder about why we aim for meat when swinging a paddle.

11/3/2015 9:58:40 PM
I just realized something and feel a bit silly for not realizing it sooner.

It's always seemed obvious to me that not everyone who identifies as a guy is attracted to guys and that not everyone who identifies as a sub is attracted to subs. It wasn't until just now though while browsing personal ads on CL* that it clicked that not everyone who identifies as sapiosexual is necessarily intelligent themselves.

On a similar thought, what would the term be for a person who is attracted to individuals of the same (or similar) intelligence as his or her self?  The term "Homo sapien" is already taken.

*not a reference to a specific ad.

11/2/2015 11:43:51 PM
The only excuse for doing some of the stuff I think about is to find someone who honestly wants to be on the other end. For heavier stuff I need to know you want it without any doubt, and this requires more than a one time verbal agreement. Your submission is not a one sided gift. If you want me to accept control over you, I expect you to treat my orders as gifts as well. If you want me to put you to the test - be it degradation, humiliation, strict rules, harsh service, or whatever -  you need to earn my trust and show me you are ready.

10/17/2015 8:34:14 PM
So, not kink related but I got my Bowser 4-6-6-4 Challenger model built far enough to run. Still a lot of cosmetic work left but it's good to see her running smooth. 

9/2/2015 10:22:25 PM
Made knish for the first time today. Not bad, but I might play with the recipe a bit. Also working my way through a bottle of Glasgow Grand from Missouri. Similar to port. Definitely tastes better at room temperature. Used it as a substitute for vermouth in a Manhattan yesterday - interesting in a good way. A bit of a thick texture to it.

8/13/2015 11:01:25 AM
Thought for the day,

It would be great if I met someone on a first date and she greeted me by kissing the inside of my wrist and introducing herself in the third person.



7/1/2015 10:44:50 PM
I usually present as a straight male dominant. I'm technically in Gen Y (or if you must, a millennial). There's also other groups that I belong to as well.

I'm not perfect. I occasionally do something that probably deserves to be made fun of. If you're going to insult me though, insult me directly. Don't insult some demographic I belong to. Similarly, when you insult a demographic I belong to you're inherently insulting me as well. Again, either insult me directly for something I actually deserve or don't insult me at all.


6/30/2015 11:40:27 PM
I find it funny how many profiles on here give a huge list of things the person doesn't want and only a line or two (if that) about who they are or what they do want. I understand that this most likely comes out of the frustration associated with an overfull inbox of generic copy-paste messages (not something I have to deal with), but it seems that paragraph after paragraph saying "guys who message me are stupid" will only dissuade those people who actually take the time to read a profile. Those who copy-paste a post to every pretty picture aren't reading profiles anyway.

It just seems counter productive to do something that won't deter the messages that are being complained about and probably will deter messages from people that might actually be good finds.


6/16/2015 4:28:36 PM
Why is everyone so worried that I'll mistake them for a doormat? Is it because I want someone on the floor when I come in to wipe my boots on and welcome me home?

5/27/2015 11:48:59 PM
This evening I went to the SFLDG talk on the closure of several SF bathhouses in the mid 80's. These bathhouses were places where gay men would come to socialize, cruise, get to know each other, and have sex. The bathhouses became a target due to the growing number of AIDS cases at the time.

The simplified version is that these bathhouses were closed for political and media reasons, in large part to show that something was being done to address the rising number of AIDS cases. There was little to no scientific evidence that the bathhouses were increasing the number of cases, especially if one factored in the push for safe sex that many adopted and participated in.

So it seems that in the end this was another example that politics and media often trump scientific approaches, and that fear produces scapegoats.

(Disclaimer: I have not independently researched this.)


5/23/2015 10:06:16 PM
A news story came out recently that left an uneasy feeling with me. In short it was one of those cases where something that is commonly fetishized about (including my me) was done "for real" to someone against their will. To my knowledge there was no connection to the scene. This was a clear cut crime (the victims died) perpetrated by a man with previous convictions. Worse, it all happened within a half-hour drive of my childhood home. I always feel a bit embarrassed when something like that happens in my former home state.

I know that there is a very distinct, very solid difference between the activities of consenting adults who actually care about the well-being of each other and the blatantly criminal activities described in the news story. It is still, however, a very strong gut check. That is the reality that this fetish I have is based on? Do I really want to play out a role of being that guy, even if it's fictional?

In the end I remind myself of the real differences that exist, and in the end those differences are decisive. Why should the criminal actions of one man taint the enjoyment of consenting adults who wish to play with the dark sides of their own humanity?

5/15/2015 9:33:16 AM
So, I just finished the first Gor book. I'd been in the bdsm scene for a while, seen the terms pop up now and then as something similar but not the same, and finally got around to seeing what it was about. These are some early thoughts I'm having. (some spoilers beyond this point) The first thought that sticks with me is how Talena wanted to be taken in a more decisive manner than Tarl initially followed. At that point she could have stayed of her own free will, but wanted to be held there in a manner that could trump her will. Based on this I'm considering the difference between applying enough control that the slave obeys as compared to enough control that a slave feels comfortable that they can't disobey, with the emphasis on comfort - the idea that an excess of force can be interpreted as extra reinforcement of the framework as opposed to an extra stress testing the slave.


5/14/2015 1:33:10 PM
I'm fairly sure I've had inklings of this in the past, but today it struck me as very odd that love is considered the "correct" primary force behind relationships. There are so many other concepts that could take the primary role. Dedication to someone out of respect, submission and its role in regulating one's life, or even convenience in helping someone achieve their desired life while they help you achieve yours.

Along those lines, why must love be reserved for the individual? Why not love of what they represent or love of the contract formed between individuals?

Thoughts.


5/12/2015 3:42:13 PM
Often I need to motivate myself to exercise. Today my motivation was the keeping of a slave. Ultimately someone chooses to accept (kink style) slavery of their own free will, but many are looking for the illusion of not having that choice. At times that refers to raw physical domination, the certainty that escape can only come by the master allowing it.

Since this can be taken the wrong way, I want to emphasize that I am a firm believer in consent. This imagery is for the case where the individual has given prior consent and actually wants to be directed by force.

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DominaLTulsa
 
 Age: 22
  Kansas