Collarspace.com

Horizontal Line
Vertical Line
Horizontal Line

Horizontal Line

GameOfTrust

GameOfTrust - photo 1
GameOfTrust - photo 2

Vertical Line

Im a pure Dom, which is someone who takes his pleasure from controlling his sub. Its not the order I give but the subs devotion to execute the order, her commitment to do as told. Its about the more shes willing to do, the more shes willing to push herself, even against her own insecurities and fears, to complete the task Ive given her. My ecstasy comes from that loyalty and trust placed in me, by the sub, to do what I want. That command over a person, drives me wild inside. The vulnerability a sub displays is more of an aphrodisiac than anything else. Im a Dom and I live for being in control of a sub.

Im a mental Sadist. Its not the whipping and king that I draw happiness from but the effect that pain has on the mentality of the sub. As a male born in this first world nation, hurting a woman is taboo. Hurting a woman who enjoys it, is my favorite kinky paradox. She both suffers and enjoys. I break my childhood programming to be an active part in that process. I want to inflict that paradoxical pain and I dont limit myself to physical means. I like to use degradation, humiliation, and ification. My sadism drives me to hurt women, who like it.

Im without a sub. Im looking for a woman who is submissive to her core. As if, she plays the role of a normal, vanilla human to get through daily life but feels like herself when under the thumb of a dominant personality. Im not looking for someone who only likes kinky, bondage time in the bedroom. I dont want her submissive nature to be an act to spice up her sex life. I cant stop being a Dom because its who I am. I want a sub, who cant stop being a sub. A sub who wont get bored of it. She can be new to the scene and unsure of all her kinks and limits but she must absolutely know that shes a sub to her core.

Face picture available upon request.

I prefer to chat on kik or any other messenger that works decently.

Horizontal Line

12/31/2017 11:40:10 PM
Happy New Year everyone!

5/7/2017 3:48:01 PM
He shows up as someone helpful, that you would generally trust, for example, an ?er driver. He offers you some water or a mint laced with a roofie and waits for you to pass out. He takes you to a specially prepared barn away from any populated areas. Once there, he gets to work. He begins by stripping off all your clothes and strapping you to a seatless chair. A hard leather strap around your neck, waist, arms, wrists, thighs and ankles. Your weight would cause the leather to bite into your thighs and the strap around your waist would be so tight it would dig in under your ribcage. The chair, bolted to the floor, would give you no slack as you struggled. When you finally wake, he starts a tape recorder and begins interrogating you. He would start with simple and benign questions. Frustrated and confused, you would refuse to answer. For every time you didn't answer he would clamp a clothespin somewhere sensitive on your body. A clothespin on your face, your ears, your neck, your triceps, your nipples, your labia, your clitoris, your perineum, the back of your knees, the webbing between your toes, until you answered the questions. Getting through the first batch of questions, he gradually increases the speed of the questions and their randomness. As you puzzle at what to say, he strikes you with a riding crop. Clothespins fly off and you reel from the sudden pain. He repeats the question and strikes again if you give just a moments hesitation. The clothespins constant pinching, the sharp strikes from the crop and the constant random questions would be the stage for the final set of questions. It's a dive deep into your psyche and he asks you penetrating and personal questions. He asks theses inches from your face and every time you answered correctly, he would massage your breasts or rub your clitoris. Once he revealed your true nature as a cock-loving sex slave, he slowly and carefully removes any remaining clothespins. He wipes away the sweat on your face, smiles for the first time before he, suddenly, pulls a latex mask out of his pocket and puts it over your head. The mask has no eye holes or nose holes, forcing you to breathe from your mouth. Without warning, a ball gag is shoved in your mouth and you panic but it takes a few seconds to realize the ball has a hole in it to allow you to breathe. You, next, feel vibrating eggs being taped to your swollen nipples. The sensation is both irritating but arousing. Next thing you know, you can feel a large, bumpy, vibrating dildo being unceremoniously shoved into your vagina. Before you can react to that, another lube lathered dildo is shoved into your ass. Your stuffed holes vibrate off each other as if they were desperately trying to dance with each other. The final treat is a Hitachi wand resting on your sensitive and recently abused clit. The sheer amount of sensations you're feeling are overwhelming. It's hard just to think straight or even come up with a straight thought. Your train of thought is always interrupted from the tactile messages you're brain is receiving from all your erogenous areas. You're going insane without your ability to concentrate or focus. Being unable to see or smell hasn't helped at all either. When will it end? You can't even tell how much time has passed when the vibrations stop one by one. You're exhausted both mentally and physically. You're heart's still racing. You still haven't caught your breath. You still can't see or smell anything. You still attempt to gather your wits as you feel the restraints being loosened. This might be your only chance to escape. As your feel the last leather strap slack you make a mad dash for anything. In the heat of the moment, it's hard to remember any details of the room you were in. At the same time you try to remove the mask and gag but you realize they're locked with a small pad lock. In your desperate escape attempt, you crash into a wall and knock yourself back. You immediately and instinctively begin looking for an exit by feeling the wall. The man who kidnapped you can't be very far. You rush to your feet and spread your arms trying to find any semblance of a doorway. The adrenaline is pumping and you have to try absolutely anything you can. You trip on some random objects on the ground. You bang your knee hard on the floor. The pain makes you hate yourself, this mask and the kidnapper. As you make it back to your feet you hear a familiar voice. It's a sad, whimpering tear-filled confession of a former woman. She admits to being a worthless, cock-craving, cum dumpster who's only good use is as dungeon meat. She craves being indiscriminately passed around used. She's obsessed over fantasies of just this situation. You stop, and crumple to the floor, defeated. Those were your words from earlier. You said those things and you meant them. A pair of familiar hands and arms pick you up off the floor and cradles you into a very small, lightly padded box. It's practically tailored to your size, so can't even lift your arm or even roll over. Your gag is removed and you hear from him one more time, "Good Night slave #10352, we'll continue this tomorrow." The lid shuts and locks.

5/3/2017 12:22:53 AM
An acrid, imposing odor filled her nostrils. Her mind was fuzzy. All her thoughts slowly flowed into and out of her mind. What's that smell? Where is that smell coming from? Where am I? I can't see anything. Why can't I see anything? Hello? Why can't I speak? What's in my mouth? It feels round and big. I can't close my mouth. My hands! They're stuck. They won't move from behind my back. My legs won't move either. What is happening? Am I paralyzed? No. I feel something leather. It's around my wrists, my elbows, my waist, my knees, my ankles. It's all over my body. It's tight. I can't move. There's something leather over my eyes too. What the hell is going on? What was I doing before? The girl tried to piece back her memories. She was being tutored late after school. It was her senior year and she really needed to pass English in order to graduate. Mr. Strom was there. He had always been a hard ass when it came to grading but she always caught those quick leery eyed glances. Today, to garner some leniency, she wore her tight black yoga pants and a bright pink thong. She knew the about the power of the male gaze and that succulent pink underwear shown like a beacon to anyone with a dick. "Have you even read the assigned material!?" He snapped as he reviewed her essay. She knocked her pencil of the desk. "I'm sorry sir, I just need some extra attention." She stood up, turned away from him, and seductively bent over to look for her pencil. She could feel Mr. Strom stare pins into her round, plump behind. "Oh, I can't find my pencil! I fix that essay right away when I find it, sir." She was going to have him wrapped around her finger. She finally grabbed her pencil and stood up, when suddenly a funny smelling cloth was wrapped around her nose and mouth. She desperately tried to pull it off but to no avail as her strength left her arms. That was the last thing she remembered. A breeze washed over her body. Her clothing was still on her, she realized. She could recognize the sound of a door shutting and locking, followed by footsteps edging closer to her location. Who was it? Was it Mr. Strom or some mysterious kidnapper? The fear crept over her. She struggled to move. It was no use. Whatever restraints she wore, were too tight. Her arms were behind her while her legs were spread wide with her ass in the air. She was mounted to some table with some necklace or collar keeping her head down and in position on the edge. A firm hand came crashing down on her left butt cheek and a shock of pain traveled up her body, causing her to muffle a squeak through her gag. "You've been a naughty girl," said Mr. Strom. "You don't pay attention in class, you don't read the assigned material and then you beg and plead for a passing grade." Another sudden palm came slamming down on her right butt cheek. "I know what you've been trying to do. That is so very naughty and it deserves some punishment." A quiver was sent through her spine at the word "punishment." Two hands violently ripped through her yoga pants. Starting from the center seam, they came apart with relative ease exposing her juicy buttocks. A finger caressed the area between her cheeks, covered by her coveted pink thong. The finger massaged her asshole, circling around applying enough pressure to make his desire know. She flinched and squeezed her cheeks together. "Oh no, none of that!" Mr. Strom retorted to her silent reaction. "If you resist, you'll only make it all the more painful. Accept your punishment. You know full well that you deserve it." The finger retreated and returned covered in what she imagined was his saliva. It pushed past her underwear to her bare skin and began it's descent into her body. It was warm and stiff. Her asshole was shut but not entirely. The finger wriggled inside her, touching all that it could. It was something she had never felt before and she felt both ashamed and aroused. Guilt flowed through her veins as she enjoyed it. Please stop, Please! The words resounded in her head but were muffled petitions through the ball gag. "Oh, I can't stop yet. We've only just begun."

2/17/2017 8:20:23 PM
A pig is naked except for her prized leather collar. She sits in her crate waiting for Her master, who adores her and treasures her. He shows up, unlocks the door and attaches a leash to her collar. He leads her to the couch because it's time for her feeding. He drops his pants and whips his dick out. A pig is hungry and and excited and goes to work on the dick. Her master gives her words of encouragement like, "come on you stupid cum dumpster, act like it's your last and final meal" or "you're a sorry excuse of an animal, a useless fuckpig like you can at least suck a cock" The master will worry that not everyone will recognize what a wonderful pig he has. So, he pulls out a marker and clearly labels her for all to see. He writes on her chest, on her ass cheeks and her back. To complete the job, he puts an adorable set of pig ears on her head and with the help of a little lube, a cute, little curly cue tail butt plug in her asshole. With the pig finally a pig, he move on to his true objective, dinner. He will start by flipping the pig on her back and hog tying her arms and legs together. Once she is properly tied, he will pick her up and place her on the table. A pig may not be entirely sure what is going on but she trusts her master even as he slips a blindfold over her eyes. He'll stuff an apple in her mouth and keep it place with some duct tape. In order to tenderize the meat, a good master will use some open palm spanks to her rump and follow up with some flogging to make sure it's the perfect shade of red. To make sure that she is properly stuffed, the master will use his array of tools that vibrate until she squeals like the pig she is. Once, the pork is ready, the master will use his culinary skills and prepare his meal. Cover the meat in oil, slap on some spices and sauces for taste. To really bring out the flavor, he talks to the meat as he's doing it, reminding her of her status and taking some pictures to humiliate her with later. The master begins his meal with the breast meat, pinching and sucking. He may even use a little teeth. He moves on to the main course, the pussy. Using his tongue, up and down trying to taste as much as possible but he will realize that she needs more cock sauce. Time to add more flavor by way of a hard cock to the pussy. He'll drive it in and out until he's had his fill. Once he's done, it'll be time for cleanup. A pig may be out sorts at this point, so it will time to remove the blindfold and apple. Then, take her to the shower, remove her tail and begin undoing the hogtie. A good master always keeps his animals clean and healthy.

10/22/2016 7:15:28 PM
Something I wrote in my spare time: A long day of bowing down to superiors and fixing the mistakes of his subordinates. It was just like any other day at work but for many reasons, today seemed so much longer. It was over now. He was driving on his way home with a single thought in his mind: his real subordinate needed to be punished. At home, Rose was sweeping the floor. She wasn't very tall and quite petite. Her breasts weren't very large, B-cups at best. Her waist wasn't completely thin. She worked out daily but she just wasn't born with a Barbie girl waist. Her ass was her only pride. It was not very big but had a nice curve to it. She was nobody's wife. She was 24/7 live-in slave. Rose was not even her real name. It was given to her by her Master because she reminded him of a rose. That had so much more meaning than the random birth name her parents gave her. Rose was actually very nervous today. Earlier in the week, she had accidently dropped her Master's dinner and broke the dish that it was in. Master was less than delighted and after a sound spanking that left her bottom red and bruised, he took away her in-home clothing privileges. All she wore around the house was an apron (to protect her skin while cooking and cleaning) and leather cuffs on her wrists. There were originally leather cuffs on her ankles as well but she had another accident. This time she had been jogging near the house at a park. She had not been paying attention to where she was going and twisted her ankle. It wasn't very bad and she managed to limp back home. Her Master was aghast. He rushed her to the hospital where they performed an X-ray and verified nothing was broken. It was only a sprain. They attached an ankle brace with velcro straps to her leg and sent them on their way. The drive home was anything but pleasant. The radio was off and Master had not spoken a single word. At the hospital, his worried face was endearing but that was gone. The Master in the car was a very different person. In a calm and authoritative manner, "Who told you that you may damage my property?" he asked. No one did. She was just a total klutz. "I'm so sorry sir, it will never happen again! I really am sorry, sir," she replied. "Oh? Does it think that it can get away with a cheap apology." She was an "it" now, which means she had been demoted even further. "I think it needs to learn what it really means to be sorry." No other words were spoken in the car and it was a long drive home. The next morning, all Master said to her was to be prepared for its punishment when he comes home from work. Her ankle was less swollen and her painkillers were working but she just could not relax knowing about the impending punishment. How was she supposed to prepare? Besides her normal household duties, what else was there to do? There was even less to do today because she could not even exercise. All these thoughts seemed to make the day drag on so slowly. Until, she heard the sound of the garage door opening. Master is home. She quickly posted herself in front of the house entrance to the attached garage. She stood in the manner her Master had ordered her. Feet together; back straight with her shoulders rolled forward; hands together below her waist and head facing down. It was second nature to her, like a Pavlov's dog experiment. The door opened and her Master stepped inside. "Welcome home, sir, Ro... IT is ready to serve," she said with a trembling voice. She knew she was an "it" now! The moment Master stops using her name, is the moment she has lost her name. How could she be so dumb? She wanted to kick herself so bad for that simple mistake. Master pulled a ring of keys from his pocket and placed them in her hands. "Go to the Room, unlock the locker, remove your cuffs and apron, place your hair in tight bun then take all the rope out and place them on the table. Once that's done, I want you to sit on the bench and assume the position. Do you understand?" Master said in an almost cold and emotionless voice. "Yes, sir. It understands and will comply." Without lifting her face she walked straight to the workout room, keys in hand. She was giddy with excitement even though she knew she should not be. Master had all his workout equipment in an empty bedroom. The floor was thinly padded with exercise mats. There were weights on shelves on the wall, bars for lifting on the floor to side, a large sturdy wooden table, and in the center of it all, a padded bench underneath a sturdy steel rack. The steel rack was a 2x2 frame with two pull up bars across the top and a wide walk-in construction rated for up to 750lbs. The walls were lined with sound proofing board. Any visitors were told, it was for the convenience of the neighbors when they played their music so loud when working out. The real reason was so much more delicious. The Room served two purposes. One was for legitimate exercise and other was to serve as his private dungeon. Tucked away in the closet was an assuming yet sizable stand-up locker. She unlocked her favorite locker and swung the doors open. In it was a fine assortment of her favorite toys and devices. She unlocked her cuffs and placed them inside. She untied her apron and hung it on a hook in the closet. There were hair ties conveniently in the locker, so she grabbed some and tied her hair in a nice bun, baring her beautiful neck. She then started to remove all the soft and shiny jute rope and began to lay them out on the table. Each handful of rope reminded her of the feeling it has when it bites into her skin. It was too hard to hide the smile on her face. After she was done, she sat on the bench with her back straight, feet flat on the floor on either side of the bench, and her hands behind her back. She grabbed her elbows and took a deep breath. She was ready. Not a second later, Master walks into the room with a steady pace straight to the table. He had changed from his typical work attire of a button down shirt and khaki pants to a casual three piece suit. He left his blazer off and was not wearing a tie. He had sleeves rolled up, ready for the business at hand. Over his shoulder he carried a small backpack. She hadn't noticed that before when he came home. Did he come home with it or did he pull it out of the bedroom? All the kink related items were stored in the locker. Did he buy something new? She thought. He placed the backpack on the table, turned to her and said, "It knows why it's here, correct?" "Yes, sir. It has damaged the Master's property." "No, It has damaged my most prized possession and I don't believe It understands the gravity of Its actions. Therefore, It must learn." There was no mercy in his voice, only a hidden rage. The short instance of excitement and anticipation was gone. She was nervous again. He first adjusted the bench so that the backrest was at ninety degree angle. With her arms behind her back, she was forced to put little more arch in her posture. He began to tie her hands and elbows together using the rope. The knots felt tight, maybe a little tighter than usual. He moved on to tying a rope bra. The constricting rope squeezed all the fat, forcing it between the ropes. Her modest breasts swelled and her nipples became erect. She loved this part. As each line marked her body, her mind went further down into her rope bliss like a never ending stairway. When he was done with her chest, arms and neck, he secured her to the bench further immobilizing her. He tucked and tied her feet underneath the bench, off the floor, being careful around the brace. He didn't need to because the swelling was gone and brace worked very well in keep her foot in place. He tied her knees together and to the bench. Finally, he flossed a line down her crotch and around her waist. The feeling of the rope sliding across her womanhood made her squirm but then she realized, the knots were tighter. She had lost herself during the process but now she noticed there was less wriggle room than usual. Master went to the locker and pulled out her favorite pink ball gag. It was just the right size for her tiny little mouth. He walked up to her posing an ominous question, "What are you most afraid of?" Most afraid of? What am I most afraid of? I'm afraid of the normal stuff like monsters and ghosts. She pondered. I don't like horror movies or creepy crawly things like bugs. Oh, I hate bugs! Just as she opened her mouth in revelation, he filled it with the ball gag and cinched it tight. She looked at her Master's face and saw his sinister grin. "Did It figure it out?" He walked back to the locker and pulled out a large black complete blindfold. Then to the backpack he had brought earlier, he pulled out a small clear plastic critter cage with a pink top. Inside was some sort of small black mass. As he carefully walked closer, she noticed the black mass may have had some fur or something. Is that a rat? I'm not afraid of rats The closer it got, the less it looked like a rat and when it finally moved, she knew what it was. Anyone could recognize that distinct locomotion of a large, fist-sized tarantula. The large furry beast had adjusted to the light and had come alive in its cage. Oh God! A fucking spider! Holy Shit! Holy Shit! What is he going to do with that! Oh my God I can't move. No No NO! Why a goddamn spider? Get it away from me! FUCK! All is dark. He had placed the blindfold over her eyes leaving only her sense of hearing to narrow down the spider's location. Her breathing is heavy. There is already a layer of sweat forming on her body. Her mind is racing more than ever. Oh shit fuck! Fucking spiders! Why did God, Buddha, Darwin make fucking spiders! I wish they were all dead. OHHHH Fuuuuuck! I hate spiders! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! Burn all the spiders! BURN THEM ALL! Please don't put that spider on me! I'll do anything! I'll suck your dick for hours! You already have my holes. How much time has passed. This feels like an eternity. Please I beg you! Don't put that spider on meeee. Oh my god is that it! ARGHHhH! No, no no! There's nothing, there's no such thing as spiders. Spider don't exist. AHHHHH, these ropes are so tight. Get me out of here I don't want to do this. FUCKING Spiders. No more spiders. It was at that moment she heard a click. NOOOOOOOOOOO Don't pull the spider out. LEAVE him in there. The click was followed by a rush of air. It was the central air kicking on to cool the house. The slight breeze in the room made her shiver and now she was keenly aware she was covered in sweat. Ah cold! FUCK! where is the spider. Why is Master waiting? What is he doing? Just fucking do it. Get it over with. I'm dying here. Please, you motherfucking asshole! Fuck goddamn shit fuck fuck fuck FUCK! Let's go motherfucker! Fuck you spider-fuck. SNAP! The sound of a critter cage being opened. AHHHHHHHHHHHH. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm soo sorry. I'll be best the slave ever. Master, I'm sorry. Please Please Please Please don't do this! At this point, she began to cry uncontrollably through her mask. The tears welled up and leaked down her cheeks. Master pleeeaase! Don't do this! I'm sorry. Forgive me, Master A feeling of a few, small, almost insignificant points of pressure on her leg. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH In her mind and from her mouth came a scream like none other. She had no other thoughts except the scream. Almost like a loud bang, light returns to her eyes. The only thing she could see is her Master's malicious eyes staring right back to her. "Does my touch scare you that much?" What!? What is he talking about? Her eyes only stare back in befuddlement. His left hand grabs her chin and points her face to her leg where he is resting the five fingers of his right hand. She looks around and sees the tarantula still in its cage on the table. Her rapid breathing start to slow. Her nerves journey on their way to normalcy. The adrenalin is still in her system, though. She hasn't calmed down but she is not as high as she was before. "Did my precious Rose think my hand was a spider? How dare you," He says coyly. "Looks like she needs a good lashing." That smile, that unique and genuine smile, is the only thing she can claim as her own. It is not one of the fake smiles he gives to his coworkers or even his friends. This smile is something he only gives to her. That is why, she can claim it as her own. That's the last thought she has before he puts the blindfold back on. "It's time for some real fun."

Vertical Line

Horizontal Line
Horizontal Line
MsRenee9
 
 Age: 27
 Brooklyn, New York