I guess I'm horny enough to log in now ...

The whole CM thing is not really very efficient.

What do YOU get out of it?

I don't get much.

- restraint (I thoroughly enjoy you being helpless and totally available to me which is the main requirement)
- sensory deprivation (a blindfold is de rigeur, and a ball gag is soooo sexy to kiss you and stare in your eyes w/o the blind fold on while you're bound and helpless)
- collars (ever since I was in middle school, the sight of a woman with a choke collar and leash ripens my enthusiasm)
- courtesy & care (I'm much more a gentle Dom, taking my time than a rough quick fuck but can do both)
- oral (I love to lick clean kitty when you're bound and blindfolded, and I enjoy the power to provide you orgasmic writhing at my total command... and of course, being a guy, you will pleasure me when I desire servicing of my rather large manhood while you're on your knees, wrists bound, and perhaps blindfolded for effect)
- swallow (swallowing helps ... a lot ... with the whole male:female dynamic, once trust & safety is established, as it's the mental acceptance of what I offer to you that is important)
- access (the obedience of you offering three holes to me at my choosing, not yours, is exceedingly erotic)
- tits (likewise, total access to your tits is key as you must allow complete and continual access, even down to the use of gentle nipple clamps with the erotically scintillating chain betwixt the nipples that I so enjoy viewing as jewelry upon your luscious figure)
Ah, my fantasy evening. Pretty much it would be we'd be together and you would allow me to take my sweet time with you, hours and hours of play where I'd first undress you slowly, verrrrry slowly, making sure you just relaxed and stood there as I, perchance, brushed up against a nipple or two (accidentally on purpose, of course). You closed your eyes and held your arms at your sides as I swept my warm hands up and down the curve of your buns, and my fingers approached the sweet soft inside of your thighs, perhaps parting your legs slightly involuntarily to allow fuller access. 

I think I'm a pretty good play partner, but that's up to you to decide. I have experience, and a decent toy bag, but, my most valuable asset is my imaginative mind. I love role playing, especially the newly bought slave girl, where I inspect you from head to toe, and then I teach you how to be good and to obey.

I like to think of myself as well balance and good natured; but what do YOU think of me?

Went to what looked like a local D/s play party this weekend. Wow. Halloween never was this good when I was a kid!

I'm told, in the forums, that the desire to enjoy breasts isn't primal; it's cultural.

So, if the desire isn't primal, it sure starts early if it's culturally induced, since I had it at age, oh, I don't know, 13 or so and it has never abated. Damn that cultural influence! Damn that Sears catalog! Damn National Geographic!

I was watching a kinky video today, when I realized how much alike a clit & vagina is to a cock & scrotum!

The reason this is fascinating is that I always want to CONTROL a woman's orgasm. To own her and her orgasm. And, to be in control implies a direct understanding of that which I have not.

Hence this video, of a bound ebony woman, which gives an insight into the pink delicacy of femininity.

http://xhamster.com/movies/1751863/ashley_starr_gets_broken.html

Scroll to 19:53 where the bound girl is seated and her clit played with via a vibrator. Notice that the extended clit (which was extended with vacuum toys), looks just like the head of a penis, with a sleeve of skin around the "tube" of the clit and the vaginal lips like a scrotum surrounding the underside.

If this, indeed, is the correct analogy, I already know (because I know myself), that the bottom of the pink head of the clit is the sensitive part, that which needs to be played with and toyed with my tongue while the entire clit needs be fondled and stimulated.

Tell me - is it that direct of an analogy of my body parts to yours?

In answer to why there are more men than women seeking here on collarme, I wrote:

I'd be hard pressed to name a half-dozen places where women outnumber the men...

Let me try to figure out where women outnumber the men:
- schools (barely, except for teaching, where it's overwhelming)
- malls (almost all stores, no matter the type, including clothing, cosmetics, perfumes, groceries, jewelry, furniture, etc., i.e., all but tools, cars, electronics, and other manly things)
- body services (e.g., nails, feet, & hair, services)
- child services (e.g., daycare, child transportation, etc.)
- home services (some, e.g., cleaning & cooking are likely overwhelmingly female - yet - others - such as fixing & maintaining are likely overwhelmingly male)
- medical services (some, e.g., nurses are likely overwhelmingly female - while others - such as doctors, are likely roughly 50:50 nowadays)

OK. I'm starting to run out of ideas of where women actually outnumber the men significantly in our daily lives ...

QUESTION: Where on this earth do men NOT overwhelmingly outnumber the women?

The most delicious gift in the world is the willingly pleasing gift of submission.

The essence of a submissive is her ability and desire to please.

I love a woman who exhibit openness and adventurous sentiments.

I want to own your multi-orgasmic delight. I truly wish to have you wriggling in pleasure just from my hands and tongue and large cock. There's just something so very sexy about having you helplessly squirming in delight, at my control!   When we're together, you'll have to be sure to let me know how you feel - either by word or by reaction. For example, if I twist your nipple, and that arouses a reaction out of you (good or bad), I want to know that instantly. As I move about, from kissing your pink lips to suckling on your sweet pussy to manhandling your sensitive tits, for example, and I want to know how all that is being perceived by you. Your murmurs and moans of pleasure along with your wetness and squirming are the reward that you're providing to me as I fondle and use your body for my pleasure.   Both your mind and your body were built for this.

I love traveling the world, and have been to most countries (mostly on business, but I generally add a few days to a week or more for personal travels). I don't smoke, drink excessively, nor do any drugs whatsoever. I'm not against others doing so, but it's just not my professional white-collar existence. 

I would always be interested in what you have to say because I'm generally interested in all people. People interest me more than almost anything else in the world - and, getting to know you closely would be a treat.

In fact, getting to know every nook and fold of your luscious treats would be a gift in and of itself. I have strong hands in addition to a strong tongue, and large shoulders so I am especially adept at whole body Shiatsu massage (a class of which I took in college days). I envision us meeting, kissing briefly as I take you by the hand, leading you with an upturned finger to be silent, close your eyes, and relax, as I first slowly undress you as you relax face down in the soft bedcovers, and then massage you from the center of your back, to the soft curves of your thighs down to your ankles and then back to your scalp (you'd be amazed at how nice that feels) to the joints of your fingers and along the inside of each toes (again, it's interesting how good that feels when done right - not tickly - but smooth).

Of course, my tongue, overdeveloped as it is, will have plenty of things to do in the meanwhile.

Let me know when/if you'd like to get to know me better. I lead a full life so I'll be here when/if you need me.

Teaching you how to serve and deliver pleasure would be a treat in and of itself. Providing the warmth and safe comfort for you to deeply feel the sheer happiness of providing your teats and buns for the pleasure of another ... your lips and eyes for Him ... and your sweet wetness all his to enjoy the hot lubrication surrounding Him.

What I love about piercings and tattoo stories is the thought of giving you that focused pain - which would be pleasurable to me. For example, I've always fantasized about ringing nipples or clit and then leashing the rings to allow judicious short seemingly uncaring somewhat brutal yet quick tugs - just to watch the reaction on a slave's face and twitches of her body. I often twist a nipple, just enough to garner a strong reaction - the little feminine unwilling whimper is a just as delightful to my ears as is the delicious squirming of her body to do anything to get away from the focused direct attention.  In a way, it's how you tug on a dog's collar with short hard pulls, to get the dog to see it your way, only this is enticingly leashed to your very most private of parts.

On the topic of slave auctions, it's one of my favorite fantasies. The power over a human being. Selling them. Buying them. Inspecting them. And using them when you take your new toy home. It must have been a great power kick to choose the one you wanted and then simply buy her for a princely sum. You'd go for a high amount, what with your lovely attitude of service. It would be fun to train a slave, to punish her for disobedience, and then to slowly win her over, as you'd leave no avenue for her to accept but your way. Just as we do with a dog or a horse, where we allow them no option, such would it be with the newly purchased slave girl. The fun part would be teaching her to obediently lie still as I do whatever I wish to her, from probing her pussy with my fingers to test her wetness to slapping her tits to and fro to assess their bounciness. To just command a slave to lick and suck or to spread and accept - would just be the beginning of power of one over another.  The culmination would be when you have her accept your way of thinking as the only viable and practical solution to everything presented to you - that, oh that, would be the ultimate power over a human being.

I chose the moniker Pompeii based partly on my pure (as far as I know) Italian Sicilian heritage (although they too have been invaded by the Greeks, Carthaginians, Phoenicians, Normans, Germans, Etruscans, etc.) and partly because I love history and specifically Roman history. I always think with wonderment how Masters & slaves coexisted, albeit if unequally, throughout human history up until only the very modern recent times. For example, in Rome, it is said half the populace were chattel, owned and used by their Masters for purposes we can easily guess at today.
The Romans called the Celts the Gauls, which we'd call the French nowadays, although there were Celts all over the Iberian peninsula and the Germanic lands before they were pushed out and marginalized to what is now Ireland and Scotland. It's sad, actually, that the Celts never got a chance to develop into their own empire - and that's only because they were subjugated by the Romans from the Alps, by the Carthaginians from the Iberian peninsula, and by the Vikings/Germans from Jutland and Northeastern Europe. They were truly an entire people, assimilated into different cultures. And, many must have been slaves of the conquered. We're all products of those Masters and slaves.

I often think of what it would be like, transported back in time to Roman days, where I could buy a lovely wench such as you, just like I buy a horse or cow today. I'd own you. I'd care for you just as I do for a dog - and I'd teach you like I train a horse. I wouldn't even consider it evil to own a human - it would just be what everyone did. You, for your part, would either naturally submit or you would be forced, by persistent training to submit, or, if you rebelled, you'd be sold as I would an unsuitable car for my needs. One of my favorite fantasies is to train a newly purchased slave girl where you were free up until your city was razed, and you, along with the teeming masses who survived the onslaught, were sold, en masse, at auction. Scared, cowered into submission, I bought your naked body for the sum of a used car today, and bound hand and foot, dragged you home, for cleanup and first use.

I've looked up how slaves were trained, and it's interesting that it's similar to how you would train a puppy today. You'd be given your set of rules and swiftly punished for breaking them, until you learned your place - in which case you'd then be rewarded with food and encouragement when you obey your Master. In time, you'd learn it's best to always obey Master's whims, as the punishment is always worse than just doing whatever disgusting or demeaning deed the Master wishes upon you, and getting it over with. From placing your lovely teats in Master's hands to play with to worshipping Master's cock blindfolded and tied on your knees, all three of your holes would be shown off to his friends like he proudly shows off the tricks that his dog can do. At night, you'd cuddle with Master and he'd soothingly hold you tightly, but always knowing your place - and the punishment that might bring were you to consider rebelling from the bonds of slavery.

The fact millions of people lived their entire lives in this way astounds me that it's so universally disregarded today. I must think that there was a selection process, as there is with breeding animals, for example, which culled out those not suitable for slavery and rewarded those that were, in ways that we are all descendants of. Slavery, for better or for worse, has shaped our entire genetic destiny, as I can't believe a Master didn't make himself use of someone such as you who was always available to him to use and enjoy as he pleased.
I wonder if you grew up in the repressive Roman Catholic world that I did, not that my parents were repressive themselves, but that I never heard a swear word, never saw any drinking whatsoever, no smoking, no drugs, and certainly I never had any inkling my parents had sex. I knew that when their bedroom door was closed, we could not enter - and when younger, we were sternly admonished to always knock and never open unless bidden to do so ... but sex wasn't a subject anyone talked about. For many years, until I learned it in sex ed, I thought my sisters peed out of their asshole, that's how little I knew. I knew my older sisters had hair between their legs, but I never looked at my younger sisters to see what was hidden there. It was only when I was in puberty (which happens earlier for Italians than most), that I learned about the birds and the bees. Even then, I LOVED the gals with the choker collars - oh how that drove me crazy - and only now do I know why!

Someone asked when I first knew I was kinky.

 As an elementary school kid with a gang of similars, we used to troll the houses of my friend's fathers and we always would pull out the girly magazines when nobody was home. For me, growing up in a strict Roman Catholic household, I couldn't even fathom my Dad making love to my Mom - we never saw it nor heard it nor knew about it. It was only my friend's dads and moms that did it!

 However, we did play at tying each up up. I remember we used plastic bags. Yup. We'd punch the bottom out and then stick both wrists through the bag with our fists sticking out the back end. Then we'd twist and twist and twist. Within twenty or so twists, the bag would turn into a solid band of plastic that no human could possibly break. We couldn't do that with our feet so we used a pair of plastic handcuffs we found - which kept popping open. Then we'd playfully taunt the tied up person who couldn't do anything back - pushing and shoving almost like the victors in a military battle do with the captured prisoners. In addition, in seventh grade, I distinctly remember the girls wearing choker collars - and that just drove me bananas. I loved it. But, I didn't know why until way later. Now, whenever I see a gal in a collar, I go bananas the same way. It was ingrained in me - but I didn't know it. All during college, I tied up my girlfriend with whatever I could find and just enjoyed her body for as long as I wanted. In those days I'd literally spend hours enjoying her all bound like that. I never did find someone as willing as she to be toyed with and enjoyed. It was only recently (last few years) that I bought the fur-lined leather cuffs, the padded blindfold, the official ball gag, etc., and I can always improve my toy bag!

 As for being involved, I have been to all the munches, the San Jose munch (which used to meet at the Dennys on First Street near 880) and the Palo Alto munch (which met outside a restaurant in Sunnyvale and the best was the Southern Cross munch (which used to meet every Friday at 6pm at the Pruneyard next to the movie theater). It was difficult getting to the Pruneyard after work on a Friday - but that was the most fun. Also I had been to Edges a few time but that's about it. Being professional, I was always worried I'd run into someone I know (yes, I know, they'd be there too).

 If you're local, and you know of some good venues, let me know!

For me it is all about you.

> if things where reversed, like IF random women sent me pics of their body parts how would I feel.

Ah! Just think about the possibilities.

Women cover their faces and their bodies, leaving tits, ass, and pussy only to show.

We go about our work day. Leave the house just as the easily recognized slightly lopsided white'ish tits of the Polish postal lady arrives with the mail. Start the car and wave to the Irish neighbor's bright red glaring freckled pussy. Drive down the street, stopping at the crosswalk long enough for all the unknown busy buns to cross. Pull up to the local donut shop for a quick coffee & snack. Entering, you instantly notice a distinctly new pussy at the corner table, sitting there alone, clicking away on a portable PC, and then, in front of you, your eyes behold, unexpectedly, a wholly different set of perky tits at the counter.

Pleasantly surprised, you instinctively inquire about where the perky tits of the old-timer with the bejeweled pussy was; the answer comes back that she's on vacation for two weeks ... so you vow to soon get to know the new perky titties behind the counter better, with a smile, as you sit down next to the new pussy at the table and engage in your normal small talk friendly banter, typing away at your iPhone to answer the boss titties quick mail about where you are on the morning of the important meeting.

Absorbed in your typing, you belatedly glance over to the newly seated pussy, losing your train of thought only for a moment as the length of her pussy lips registers on your brain, and then back to typing away you go. The newly appreciated pussy, who seems to know you so she must have been there before, taps you on the cock and points wordlessly to the clock, causing you to notice it's getting near 10am, which is your normal leaving time. You thank and then apologize to the new pussy that you didn't get a chance to talk much to her and, fumbling with your business card, you stammer out a request for her number. She hands it to you, already prepared, as her titties swing invitingly toward you in an overt gesture of appreciation for having actually noticed her pussy, which she had prepared all morning for you to see when you had arrived, all unbeknownst to you beforehand. (Note: She explained this all later, at the meeting on the beach.)

The newly exciting pussy at the table now stands invitingly as she waves you out the door promising to be there at the beach later tonight, being Friday and all that, while, simultaneously, the new perky titties at the counter thank you for the tip you always leave.

Out of the parking lot and off to work you go, arriving at the office just as the bosses mean-ass pussy looms over your desk looking for you. You remind yourself that she's just a big hairy pussy - and that she doesn't own you after hours as you hunker down to your day's effort. After she gruffly reminds you of what is due today, you're working feverishly for the 1pm deadline with the Marketing Pussies ... later ... time seems to fly ... and you're making good progress ... later you take the luxury of a 5-minute break at the cooler to discuss the day's events with the few friendly regular titties and pussies that you've come to know well, over time. Back at work, you finish, skipping lunch, as the young secretarial pussies all stop by to ask when they can collate and distribute. You tell them you'll do that yourself, thank you ... as you're working up to the wire, as you are wont to do on important deadlines.

You finish, finally, just in time for the 1pm meeting, where, characteristically, they're all asses no matter what you prepared; but you know how to work them so you're relieved when your boss' pussy takes over the comments; and, her large nipples stand out as she handles question after question aimed at her from around the table. All the tits finally nod in agreement, and the meeting ends ... where you immediately head out to the gym for an hour of relaxation amongst the jiggling titties, cycling pussies, and stretching derrières.

Over time, you've honed your skill at recognizing people, not only from the daily view of their titties and pussies - but also from the correlation of their voices. So, it's not surprising that, back at your desk for a final wrap up, as a pleasant phone call comes late in the day from a new customer of yours, you start to imagine, from her voice alone, what her tittles are like, thinking wistfully that they're usually perkier on the higher-frequency voices and wider at the base for the deeper voices - but that it's not a hard-and-fast rule for titties as it is for pussies.

The bell rings, and then it's off to the beach for the 5pm rush - over the tit-shaped mountains - and onto the boardwalk by the pussy shaped inlet, where you stroll leisurely among the myriad pussies and titties in the crowd, looking for that now familiar newly friendly pussy of yours who said she'd meet you at 5:30pm sharp. You can almost smell her scent as she arrives, still mixed sweetly with the browned donut grease flavor, as she spreads her legs invitingly when you hug her in greeting, and, best of all, she begins opening her blouse wide in appreciation for your expected continued friendship together.

E= erotic ...

R = restraint, and, ...

o = obedient ...

s = service