On Memorial Day and the Cost of Everything It is Memorial Day weekend and I am sitting in my home doing the math that everyone I know is also doing, the specific and dispiriting arithmetic of gas prices against destination against what is left after the bills, and arriving at the same answer everyone else is arriving at: we are staying home. Again. The freedom that this holiday is nominally about feeling somewhat theoretical when the cost of driving anywhere meaningful has become its own small act of financial courage. I want to be clear that I am not unaware of what this day is actually for. I hold that with genuine respect. But I am also a mother of two boys who wanted to do something, anything, that felt like a holiday, and the gap between what I wanted to give them and what the current state of the world permits is sitting on me today with more weight than usual. Everything costs more. Everything. The casual ease of loading the boys into a car and driving somewhere that feels like summer, the small luxuries that make an ordinary Monday into a memory, all of it has been quietly repriced into something that requires calculation rather than spontaneity. I find this exhausting in the specific way that financial friction always exhausts me, not because I cannot manage it but because I should not have to manage it alone, and I do, and days like today make that aloneness more visible than usual. Which brings me to the fantasy, because this is also that kind of space, and the fantasy is not elaborate. It does not require Greece or a villa or anything that could not exist in my own home with the right person in it. I imagine waking up to someone who has already been awake for an hour, who has already thought about this day and what it should contain and has moved quietly through the early morning making it real. The kitchen already holding the smell of something good. The boys' day already considered and provided for, the small things that make children feel that a day is special, the particular attention to what they love that communicates someone has been thinking about them specifically. I imagine being handed my coffee exactly right and being told, not asked, that today I have nothing to manage. That it has been handled. That my only instruction for the day is to be present and comfortable and let the holiday actually feel like one. We would not need to go anywhere expensive. The backyard transformed by someone who understands that atmosphere is created by attention rather than budget. Good food prepared with care, the kind of effort that communicates love in the most practical language available. The boys absorbed and happy, their holiday delivered to them by someone who considered what they specifically would enjoy, not a generic child but these two particular boys with their particular enthusiasms and their particular humor, someone who has paid enough attention to know the difference. And me, in the middle of all of it, actually resting. Actually present without also being the logistics coordinator and the entertainment director and the person holding every thread simultaneously. Sitting in the sun in something pretty with a cold drink that appeared without my asking for it, watching my children have a good day that someone else made possible, feeling for once on a holiday like the holiday includes me rather than being produced by me. That is the whole fantasy. Its simplicity is the point. Instead I will do what I always do, which is make the best of what is available through the force of my own creativity and the particular determination of a mother who refuses to let her children feel the weight of what is missing. We will make it good. We will find the celebration inside the limitations, because that is what I do, and I am very good at it, and my boys will not know what was absent because I will not let them see it. But I know. And on the days that are supposed to be restful, the knowing is the thing that costs the most. Happy Memorial Day. To those who served, genuinely, thank you. To the rest of us making it work on a budget with children who deserve more than the math currently allows: I see you. We are doing fine. We are always doing fine.   I am simply tired of fine being the ceiling. It's more than tiredness, now. It's exhaustion, but exhaustion doesn't befit a Goddess... I long for all the softness the world has to offer. 

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

My late wife whom I lost 10 years ago, loved bondage in many forms. On a trip to vegas I setup a situation to totally driver her mad..... We went out to a nice dinner very well dressed and a show. She attired as follows for it..... thigh boots well heeled, stocking with garters PVC Garter belt, a steel chastity belt no plugs, all under a leather mini skirt, tight strong pvc under bust corset well laced, pvc string bra, covered with a white satin blouse. She was my arm candy for the night. Needless to say she was whispering in my ear delicious thoughts, needs, desires, and beggings to be used. Being so bound and restricted via the chastity belt meant she was not able to effectively finger herself in the booth as we ate and had to endure the knowledge that I controlled her sex and its release. When we retired after some gambling and teasing by both of us, once in the room she seductively stripped her shirt and begged me to release her, i made her spread against window in the hotel room and released her chastity and held her firmly by the hair and ravished her to my pleasure..... that evening she stayed booted and corseted and skirted but bound at the feet and wrists... I took her 2x more that night and she crawled on me begging for cock and talking about how much she was made into a object of sexual pleasure.

Cowards?  Dolts?  Flakes?  Predators?  Time wasters?  Inconsistent at best. Its weird to have people request a time for speaking, give you their phone number and then close their account before the appointed time.  Such odd behavior and it certainly gives one pause when engaging here.  Then there are those whom you have spoken with many times, shared video chat, Q & A, moving towards a meeting, only to - never contact you again once you request a meeting. You are not sincere and genuine. Where have all the cowboys gone - the one with social graces, honor, integrity?  There are a few here of course and they are greatly appreciated but the rest ...need relationship therapy. Thank GOD there are a few men here who are moving in the right direction!  I fear I would lose all hope if not for their persistence and welcome demeanors.

Her hands held the pen, the black ink swirling across the page as she signed the contract. The last time she would ever see her real name, the last time her date of birth would even matter. She paused, holding her breath in her shuttering lungs… and as the seconds ticked by like years, her lung’s released and the chime rang. The electronic paper instantly sealed the contact and the encryption code saved to the nanochip.A metal arm came from the wall, and in a quick second her eyes blinked, and the chip engaged.She was still her, her personality, her smile, her spirit, but her body now belonged to the New American Order. She fought as long as she could, the price of housing and food had risen so high she was living so poorly. They had removed all unchipped teachers long ago, uncipped could not work jobs that paid in NAObitcoin. She could only get paid in paper money which only unchipped could spend. The black market was dangerous and she knew the consequences.The government now allowed people to elect to be chipped as household wifes. They would live a normal life, raising children, and making their families a unit, and thus rebuilding the community which once made this nation strong.She was a beautiful women, her long auburn hair landed in near perfect curls, her beautiful eyes could sink the universe. She held a PHD and would make an excellent home school teacher for a man who had a large family.She sat in the chair, gripping the skirt if the dress, and staring at the wall. A screen came on and the host started talking.“Gentlemen of the NAO tonight we have a wonderful selection of wives. They have all signed in willingly so there are no confinement rules for these women. Lets get started.”The door to her room opened and she stepped in to the hall. She took the step and closed her eyes, her sister got a nice man, they are so happy. She was going to have the same, she knew it.“First we have this beautiful older model, she will bare no children, but she is sweet and caring. She has a good voice, pleasant demeanor, tested level 9/10 in cooking and house keeping, she scored 10/10 in intellect. As you know gentlemen she will be tested for sexual abilities, her current rating in the outside was 4.6 so definitely above average but those chipless have no idea.”The door opened at the end of the hall, she walked quickly to the door, she had watched this millions if times on the tele. It had become required viewing but the poor only got to see the limited view, they put so many propaganda commercials in the show it was hard to really understand what was happening.The men in the room were all high class government officials, they were all men who had created the order, and their first wives were probably in work camps, or dead from the war. The rebels attacked their homes and wives, so many ran to other countries at the end of the war. Now other countries were turned to watch as NAO rebuilt and became the world leader of technology and education.The days of the starving poor was over, well as long as you chipped up. If you were a normie your life didnt change except you had no rent, no bills, but you worked for the government and ate what the government gave you. It wasnt a horrible life, you married in your class, and lived happy. The problem came with people like her. She was smart enough to live with out the system, pretty enough to be a wife, refined and well skilled, and her date rating put her on their radar.She only signed up to find a match, she was sick of her lonely home. They just started letting nochips on the site and she knew better!When her rating hit its highest the rent in her area went up, the power for vehicles tripled, food prices doubled. She got a speeding ticket and that was it… she couldn’t pay her rent… and there Lacy was, to offer her a spot in the highest ranked tv show in the History of the planet. It was required watching in the NAO and many international countries allowed their citizens to watch and participate, part of the new Jenniva treaty.So here she was, the room was black, the ceiling back, the bed and everything painted in the darkest black. She stepped to the door and the door behind her shut.“Remove your dress and precede to the bed.” The audience wouldnt see anything, its black, there is no light, but there are speakers and they can hear everything. She pulled her dress off and sat it next to the bed. She was stark naked, her large breasts we’re hanging from her, her body shivered as her hair tickled her back. She crouched down and lay down on the bed.“Place your right hand on the board. Place your left hand on the left board.” Her arms moved and then click the magnet locked, they had implanted her with magnets and chips throughout her body. The lights clicked off. For a second she could hear movement and then the headphones clapped down on her head. Hands ran down her body and the audience cheered as the meter stared to rise. His hands found her face and he pulled her in to a kiss, his tongue darting about and dancing with hers. His other hand found her pussy, and he clamped his hand down. The meter went to 1.0, and then his finger slipped inside, her body wetting for him, his head tilted, and his eyes flickered in to the darkness. “Ohhh a fun one.” He whispered in her ear. His fingers began working her clit and her body responded, he rubbed and twisted and pulled as she moaned loudly. Her chip holding her back from orgasm but leaving her right in the edge. He paused, and his mouth found her breasts which made her moan loudly again as the meter kept rising 3.0,4.0,7.0. The crowd started to whisper as no one had ever gotten higher than 8 and she was just starting. He pressed his cock against her, his large head pushing hard, as her rating went higher, and then he pushed in, hard. His huge cock filling her and pushing hard against the top of her as she moaned loudly, the harder he pushed the rougher he got the more she moaned and flooded him. Her hips moved with his, drawing him deeper, harder as she ground herself in to him. He reached up and put his hand on her neck, the default for allowing an orgasm during testing and she came. Her vagina pressed in on him pulsating hard as he continued to pound her, she came hard over and over moaning loudly. He stopped for a second and stepped back. “Turn over.” Her wrists released, and she flipped over, she had not had sex like this in years, she forgot it was anything other than a glorious night of love. He gripped her hips and pressed his cock in to her ass, as she arched her back and moaned out loudly. He started to work her ass slowly and then harder and harder pounding her hard. She shook as his hips hit her ass with a force she couldn’t believe. It almost took her breath how hard and good it felt. He reached up and grabbed her hair and held it tight slamming in to her harder, his other hand found her clit. He wouldn’t let her cum, he had decided now she didn't get anymore, they were all his. He pressed harder and harder, her body sweating and her breathing rough he continued, as he came he slapped her ass hard. The number blinked on the wall 8.7 highest first test score. The room blacked.. the commercial started, and men whispered among themselves.“I think i might have enough to purchasing that one.” A tall dark gentleman spoke. The room fell silent, as a bell rang which meant a second test was requested. The testing fee was not cheep, but someone needed to know her limit.Two men with night vision glasses came in and helped her straddle a round saw horse, her leg magnet locking in place, her wrists, she could no longer move.“Its time for the maximum orgasm test!” The host spoke in an over excited tone, his own body reacting to the sights. The lights turned off and above her head a digital board read 4.“According to the chip she has already orgasmed 4 times, remember folks the highest score ever is 70, in 2hours and 10 min. Once we start this test we will continue the auction.She was cold, but as soon as she felt it the sensation went away, the chip overriding the warning. A buzz starts in the background and her body starts to prepare, the sound of a milker clicking away behind her also made her body react. The buzz and tick tick take her in to a trance, and her body relaxes. He inserts a large 1 inch dildo inside if her, he clips the vibratior clamp on her clit as she lets out a loud yelp.“Mute her please.” The host says quietly. The man hits a button and her moans quiet and she starts to orgasm.“Oh no not yet kitten we aren’t even there yet.” His deep voice echoed in her ear, as thr command found its protocol, her body slowed the orgasm, and then liquid squirts on her ass as he presses in and works a large plug, its vibrations start to sink with the dildo. Her entire body clamped down, which only made the sensation stronger as she orgasmed hard. "oh yeah I should… release." as the word echoed in her empty mind the orgasms rushed in..10,11,12,13… her biometric system counting orgasm after orgasm.He smiled in to the dark as the goat milker cups attached to each breast and turned on low, then higher and higher, as it sucked her 38h breasts deep in to the glass, 22,23,26.He stood there watching with his night vision , his prize will be a percentage of her price, 30,31,32. He grabbed a flogger and whipped her ass hard, a flood of orgasms came in 41,43,44. He spanked her again, 50."Gentlemen our special purchase has hit 50! can you believe that? alright next is 35, rating 4.5, cooking 6 but comes with optional upgrade option, overall sex rating 8 with a maximum daily use 3 times… the bidding starts at her debt to the NAO of 100 Naobitcoins. Let the game begin. " the host pointed to the screen where bids were flying in from all over the world."The timer has started… bids are up to 2,000… 2,300… 3,2,1. 2,600 NAOBC… And your name is Cynthia. congratulations and may you live in the peace of your submission. " the audience said along with the host."now were are we at with our live test… 67 in 30 min, 68,69,70! she beat the record! She sucked breath in to her lungs as her body just kept going, she was dripping with sweat, her body begging for help, her moans muted her voice box turned off as she cameover and over. The machines clicked off her body shivered, and the chip took over, her hands and legs released as she stood, her brain not fully functioning. She walked to the bed her legs shaking and pulled her dress on. A door opened to a bathroom, an entire crew of beauty and glamor experts stood there. They had one commercial break to make her look fresh. She was pushed in to a shower the water spraying up and down on her in all directions. The water turned to warm air as she stepped from the shower dry and clean, the stockings slid on and clipped in to a pink and black garter. the corset top clipped in to place and then tied tight. her dress was slid over her head, and tightened down. Her hair was twisted and twirled and her makeup went on fast, a blinking light told the crew it was time.“Gentlemen it is time. How much would you pay? The time starts now…..” the     

There is a certain refinement to restraint. I practice it daily. One learns, with time, that composure is far more unsettling than complaint. I am, by inclination, a devoted soul—selectively so. Devotion is not the frantic offering of attention; it is a measured gift, bestowed where presence, consistency, and intention actually reside. Anything less feels dreadfully untidy. I have spent enough years in these spaces to recognize patterns without needing a diagram. Experience has sharpened my eye and dulled my patience for theatrical ambiguity. One doesn’t hunt red flags anymore—they appear on their own, waving politely, hoping to be mistaken for décor. I am not troubled by silence. Silence can be deliberate, even powerful. What does amuse me—quietly, of course—is absence paired with conspicuous visibility elsewhere. One can only be “otherwise occupied” for so long before the choreography gives itself away. Multitasking is admirable, but clarity remains preferable. A submissive observes. She does not rush. She does not plead for coherence. She notes, she assesses, and—when necessary—she withdraws her attention with impeccable manners. Confusion is not mystique. It is merely poor communication wearing a better outfit. If I kneel, it will be with certainty. If I offer devotion, it will be to steadiness, not spectacle. Until then, I remain poised, discerning, and faintly entertained. Devoted, yes. Naïve, no.

You feel as if you're caught in the sticky web of a venomous and POWERFUL Black Widow spider. You want to escape... But you can't. And at the same time - You don't want to. You know those deadly, sharp fangs just may be the end of you... But your curiosity is at it's peak. Will She really eat me alive? You wonder... How powerful can She REALLY BE? Your heart beats rapidly at the thought of 'The Black Widow' - You can feel your heart in your throat. Beads of sweat drip down your pathetic little face! She's coming closer... And closer.... Too close for your comfort! And as she crawls to you with those poisonous sacs prepared to BITE - You realize.... Everything's OK. This is where you belong. The Black Widow didn't drag you here! YOU were the one eyeing the web! YOU were the one who felt it was 'safe' to enter, fully aware of the "could be's" and "probably so's". YOU were the one who entered on YOUR own free will! This wasn't a TRAP. You stumbled across Her web FOR A REASON. Her fangs are closer to you now as you again realize - Your "free will" is now Her's. The Black Widow is your new MASTER!It's time. Time for the BITE. You close your eyes as you find a mental place of relaxation. You're ready! You've eyed The Black Widow's nest for far too long... You've witnessed what She's done to those prior to you. Curiosity lured you in. Jealousy of the "others" may have also played a part. You've yearned to know what THEY felt while they were with HER. And now here's your oppurtunity... You're ready to DIE at Her fangs and be BORN AGAIN to serve Her. This is your new life - In Her web, catering to Her needs. This IS afterall, HER WORLD. And you were just a lost soul trying to find your way......You've found it now.. You've found yourself! You've found that your way is HER way! And all it took was a PAINLESS bite from The Powerful Black Widow.

So slightly better news.  99.9 percent of the people who get this cancer are either heavy smokers, heavy drinkers, or drug users, and have depressed immune symptoms.  Since I am none of those things, my chances of making it out of this alive is closer to 80 percent than 50.  I'll take it.  I go in for surgery next week.  They are cutting out a piece of the back of my tongue, a piece of the back of my throat, and going into the side of my neck and removing all the lymph nodes.  Fortunately, the surgical techniques have advanced a lot and they no longer have to take out all the bones and muscle in my neck along with it.  So I will have a scar on my neck, but won't be grossly disfigured.  I won't be able to eat solid food or talk for a few weeks, and it's still going to be horribly painful, but better than dying.  And hopefully, if they get it all, I won't need to follow up with chemo and radiation and it won't come back.  But this cancer does like to come back.  I will worry about that when it happens.  For now, I'm going to focus on getting through this and keep living my life as best I can.  Thanks to everyone who took the time to write me about their own survival stories, or to offer support.

a fresh bdsm test for you: == Results from bdsmtest.org ==  100% Exhibitionist  100% Submissive  100% Girl  91% Degradee  88% Experimentalist  84% Ageplayer  84% Rope bunny  82% Primal (Prey)  80% Slave  69% Brat  65% Masochist  58% Voyeur  42% Vanilla  37% Pet  36% Non-monogamist  0% Switch  http://bdsmtest.org/r/PyvQrePt

Here is my boundary regarding pictures.   I don't share photos on kink sites, period. My job puts me smack in the middle of the public, and they don't need to know the amount of information made possible on these sites. My alternative is to meet sooner rather than later, which is also why I say come to a munch I attend and let's see if there is something there. I also ask the person who lives close enough to the Bay Area to participate in a munch and meet for coffee. I bet you are better in person, too. This boundary creates unhappy men who want their way; they want a picture, yet some don't have facial pictures either. I suppose a dick picture is representative of the little brain in action. Some don't like to be told no or are looking for something specific in a woman. This is not my problem; it's theirs!!! I let them hold their problem tight to their needy bosom. I find it entertaining when they lash out and start saying I'm fake this or that. Such fragile egos make them look like an asshats and make me realize I was right not to send or post pictures. I am real. It hurts when I stub a toe or get a papercut. I have expectations, and if you do not like them, we will not work out. If you can see the possibilities by showing up away from the keyboard and coming out in public with other like-minded people, I would enjoy meeting you and starting a friendship. Meeting in person is so much better. 

Punishment is based on creating a fear response of some kind. Fear erodes trust and connection. Trust and connection are essential for the surrender of a submissive. Therefore, punishment erodes what is essential to a healthy, successful Ds dynamic. This makes punishment of any sort incompatible with my relationships.  I am a leader and a carer in my career and daily life.  I do not punish any of my charges, and it insults the dignity of another creature to punish them. I make mistakes, but never intentionally. I have no motivation to brat or test the boundaries a partner may set for me. I hate failure, and I hate displeasing. My motivation is to make a partner proud. That is incentive enough to avoid mistakes. That is, provided I have a partner capable of feeling and expressing pleasure, and who wants to have pride in who serves him. A constructed, unnecessary punishment added on top of knowing I have failed or displeased just creates more pain for everyone, and even has more subtle, insidious impact, such as contributing to feelings of inadequacy. The best way to avoid making a mistake is communication, flowing clearly and in quantity in both directions. The best response to a mistake or misunderstanding is to try to get clarity, then discuss it, find common ground, and discuss how to avoid what went wrong. I believe in accountability and responsibility, and also in practicality. I acknowledge that my position on punishment is perhaps unusual or unexpected. I consider myself well healed from my traumas, none of which I would consider terribly serious to start with. I know myself, and I know my needs. I have no hope of serving anyone if I cannot serve with an open, vulnerable heart. Some submissives apparently require a punishment mechanism, either to set aside their mistakes with a physical reminder or something else to even the scales, or to have some sort of other constructed reminder of which way the power exchange flows. I am not so unfortunate. I can understand these concepts perfectly well through verbal reassurance.

The phone rang, his voice on the line Hello slut Hello, Sir she responds. Cunt aching beneath her belt, craving. Touch... Craving play. Her permission to play has seemed to shifted into teases and torments. As this evenings task, she must fill her wholes and they are to be locked in place. As he ended the call his last words - enjoy your torments, girl She replied thank you, Sir... It's a very good thing she didn't share her pouts.. they would not have her any good..and if she did... He has the ability to keep adding to her torments... Nope... Thank you Sir, is always a perfect response. Once the call was completed, she placed her locking tongue gag in her mouth and proceeded to try and accomplish something .. a bit messy and drooling from her gag. Driving home with her gag in She comes home from the office, her pants go right into the washer as they were soaked in the scent of her arousal. She entered the bedroom and already she could smell her arousal feeling the room. She was Afraid to unlock her belt, as all of the sensations rise to the surface and she's already horny... And not sure how much more she can take... But she will endure. Sir chose her biggest largest plug that she is still getting accustomed to. She got it in place, and chose to write slut on her on her feet and then placed a cock shaped toy in her cunt. Sent him a couple pictures, a before and after showing him, the task he set for her has been followed. Asking to remove the gag for dinner, she practically waddled her way up the stairs to have dinner with the house mate.. Attempting to sit in a kitchen chair, while overly stuffed, was a tricky situation.. each movement.. Different out comes .. some okay.. some were reminder aas to just what a slut she truly is. After dinner, she returned downstairs, and then proceeded to ask Sir, his preference in which gag to wear, she knew which one he'd choose, and he did... The halter gag. So this girl is spending the evening with everyone of her wholes filled, everything is locked in place... The torments of pictures on fet, the ache in her body to be used, the wanting to do something but In ways she's feeling lost... She's not had this experience in a long while... I'm ways she's pouting not being able to play, though she run her fingers over the belt and the plug.. the tease felt good and she's greatful to not have her wholes empty while she's locked and denied entry. No idea what's in-store... Not even going to ask.. was hoping to have a weekend of play while him and his girl goes away... I'm being obedient, doing as tasked... It's been. A quiet night

Sacred Intimacy: The Art of Birthing Orgasm in the Union of Dominance and Submission   i had previous mentioned in another post that i had an upcoming writing about when a dominant man and a submissive woman come together in a sexual nature in a sacred sexuality focus. and specifically when the man uses that dominant qualities in him to lead her into the experience with the goal of birthing her orgasms from start to finish. be it one or multiple. and how this isn't the same popular orgasm control discussions in the non sacred sexuality bdsm community or whatever porn is going on that i don't know about. well this is that post.   i usually add a bunch of visuals to both break up the text, put in an added layer of energy, and to add emphasis to my words..but i'm being called by spirit this moon day of emotions to let the words speak for themselves this time.   i said that this one is a juicy topic both figuratively and literally. except for a lot of people who might think this is something they are interested in, it will probably turn a lot of the men off. and will turn some submissive women away.   there's vanilla sex, kinky sex, bdsm power dynamic sex, creative/artistic sex, and then there's sacred sexuality. and everyone loves the part of sacred sexuality that promises full body head to toe orgasams. everyone loves the promise of multiple orgasms, especially for the fact that for a lot of times it's the first time a man is hearing he too is capable of doing it. a lot are into or can wrap their head around the semen retention for more vitality, and powerful orgasms when he chooses to do so. and everyone loves the idea of having levels of pleasure and egoic ideas of being able to say that they are a tantrika or a tantrini or their ability to confidently tell all the crazy pretzel postures and positions they get into with ease. but this subject of birthing an orgasm both on the individual level and as a couple is something people think they want, but a lot don't truly want. of course there is puja as well and can also happen beyond two people and a group of however big you want to try to do so. usually from what i've experienced and noticed it doesn't really work that well after a certain amount which is why it's sacred sexuality vs. a kinky orgy situation. but my focus has always been the woman alone, or the woman and man in a submissive woman and dominant man perspective. that is my soul lineage/shard/fracture that i'm focusing on.   being a woman and not having a penis, i've never felt called or aligned or challenged to talk about this from the individual man's perspective, or the man's perspective. there are many woman in this field of mine that do. the first 10 years of my writings was focused on the power of sacred sexuality when taken into the woman's own hands. i've recently been focused on my writing specifically in regards to the in tandem dynamic of the synergy and energy going on in relationship.   while any archetype of energy signature/personality/essence/role/identity of men can choose and step up to take on the role of birthing a woman's orgasm consciously my focus is again is for the dominant man who is doing this.   to ease into it, just like you need to ease into the actual act i wanted to clarify on what i meant earlier about how this is seperate from what the lifestyle community and terminology commonly uses as the understanding of the kink or definition of orgasm control..and how this different understanding can open a whole new way of operating using this term.   nowadays when a man says they are into orgasm control and a woman is either literally into it, which is honestly men very very rare in the long term and outside of the idea of it, or willingly goes about it due to her submissive and slave tendences they are meaning the following. the woman gets her sexual energy to rise, and is not able to release to peak orgasm without the approval of the man. usually the man then does nothing to guide, direct, control, hold, use the energetic masculine force of action physically or in other forms, or take charge of how it happens. it usually turns into a game of red light green light. he simply tells her usually no. no no, until yes. some of them will simply want you to ask and then they'll say yes after hearing it. a lot of the men see this as a form of domination and control. they think the power is having a woman at the peak of completion and creation in their hands. and tell her yes or no is the ultimate way of showing her obedience and his mastery. over my adult life as a naturally submissive and slave woman trying to find my owner, an intellectualizing mystic who as in all areas of my life want to fully absorb whatever it is i do learning/hearing/experiencing/discussing with others who are like me be it lifestyle or just the natural born ones who do not engage in the community themselves, and observing the changes over time with the ebb and flow of the community at large i've heard and seen many men explain how and why this concept of orgasm control works for them and what it does for them.   i see this understanding as a misnomer. it feels like a very passive act. a way for the man to step outside of the emotions, feelings, and inner world of what he is truly awakening in the woman. he excites something deep inside of her, and especially for women like me of the same soul shard/lineage/fracture that are submissive sexual little girls....the depths of what they unlock in this sexual dance is something magnificent. and then to step out and simply tell her yes, no, wait, teetering into orgasm denial as well which debatable if they are the same thing nowadays in the community of like minded/energetic people moves him from something active to something passive. he's no longer in the sauce with her and it becomes a seperate, disassociated, and blocked version of intimacy. with him more of a director in a chamber or behind a launch room...and her on display.   it goes back to the understanding that in life there is always levels. and this seems to be a very beginner level of domination and unfortunately where most tend to get off. even those who claim and can back up some type of experience of doing this for decades. hence the difference between non vanilla sex and sacred sexuality. and even then, there are plenty of men who step off before getting here.   let's look into some definitions of the word dominant:   a: commanding, controlling, or prevailing over all others   b: very important, powerful, or successful   2**:** overlooking and commanding from a superior position   this can harken back to leadership styles because as with everything, when we go deeper into sexuality we see if we go beyond the surface of touch, energy rise, frustration non orgasm end or poof some type of orgasm satisfaction to be determined and retraction the landscape of sex both individually or with another person operates similar to the nonsexual discussion of engaging with life as well.   there are leaders that simply bark out orders, and there are leaders that lead by action by doing and are in the thick of whatever the project is. and often the most successful leaders with the most engaged team and 'minions' are the ones that experience directly the superiority through doing and excelling and the willingness to try that the leader shows by doing next to them.   if i was to reoriente that term of orgasm control, it would be the man who is actually engaging with her body, mind, soul, and energy from start TO finish. not necessarily telling her simply yes or no, but similar to a conductor using his bod

You should be very careful throwing around terms like "true Dom/Master/sub/slave" or "real Dom/Master/sub/slave". What is real and true to me isn't necessarily what's real and true to someone else. A lot of times people throw out those terms and what they really mean is "someone who thinks exactly like me" or "someone who practices BDSM just like I do". Other times they mean "you have to agree with everything I say, believe and do, or you're not a 'real' Dom/sub/Master/slave". As far as I'm concerned, if you're willing to learn from others (regardless of which side of the slash they live on), you're kind, accepting, practice as safely as possible within you and your partners limits, you're respectful of others even if they have differing opinions/practices or beliefs, then you're as 'real' and 'true' as can be. I may not agree with you...I may not even want to spend time with you or associate with you, but I certainly won't malign you as being 'fake'.

I want to be clear...here are my hard limits... Kids Animals Choking Guns Orgies/Gangbangs Swinger type events. I am into the power exchange not group sex Cuckold  Scat Serious Public Humiliation/ Sarcasm/ Degradation/ and/or blackmail Diapers Pacifers Bottles Dont ever call me mom or mommy Age Play Animal Play, no pony or puppy role play either ( can be done at very infrequent times but not for all the time) Sissy play (some femme is ok) Needle Play Tattoos /brands, unless you are collared I won’t tattoo you ... and even then I probably won't.  Blood Play Illegal Drugs and many legal ones Smoking/smoke Untruthfulness Ass to mouth. I will not take things from your ass and expect you to put them in your mouth Death play Vomit Occultism Paranormal things Vampirism Poppers or drugs

My BDSM test results: https://sexualalpha.com/kink-result-page-new/?id=s5kivdd4kf2m7tocn63vukfnnp# My Etsy wishlist: (not begging for presents, just thought you'd like to see what I'm looking at...I love weird toys/devices so recommendations are always welcome 😁 https://www.etsy.com/people/atomteacher1/favorites/mistresss-wishlist Some musical artists I appreciate: Websites (edit) https://youtube.com/watch?v=uGjCUY59B_0&feature=sharehttps://youtube.com/watch?v=TFlaULuBVZY&feature=sharehttps://youtube.com/watch?v=TX7ynXyPQsE&feature=sharehttps://youtu.be/RPOt33-jWRwhttps://youtu.be/kmzdZTqeoqshttps://youtu.be/rLi4MAQhfsohttps://youtu.be/EFwWLnAg9mwhttps://youtu.be/14Bbe00hkgwhttps://youtu.be/ExF2jwBXAiwhttps://youtu.be/kHNCHjmFSckhttps://youtu.be/UgKNP8GHnuk