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Friends:
mugwumpsharemeukHalo1983loves2beinpainthedelicateone
rebbellbradforddom24GoodSpankeruk

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What to say, what to say... I suppose you could say I've been out of this particular world for a spell, and would like to walk it again.
And if I ruled the world, profile-writing would be taught in every school, so that future generations wouldn't have to sit thinking 'how do I make myself sound sufficiently normal & safe AND YET AT THE SAME TIME serious & kinky enough so as not to alienate anyone'?
But of course you can't, and so I think (despite my occasionally sadistic tendencies which we don't have to get into if you don't want to) that for the time being I'm just on Team Normal. So until I get transferred, I am just here to chat and swap tales, stories, scenarios, fantasies, techniques and maybe make some new friends along the way. If you're a sub I'm completely happy to just sit and talk about how people get into kink, what works and doesn't work for various people, ideal scenes, all without calling you a slut or expecting you to call me Sir.

If you're a Dom/me I'd honestly just be happy to talk to you about anything, because we have quite a bit in common and it'd be great to connect, but some of you are SO BLOODY UPTIGHT AROUND OTHER DOM/MES. I promise I am NOT HERE TO STEAL YOUR TOYS. Ahem.
More than that, who knows? Let's just see what happens. It'd be nice if real life and kink life coincided, but if all we do is interact on here then that's fine with me. It's only CM after all, it's not like I'm going to start sending you Farmville invites. Although that would probably mean something else on here anyway.
I don't believe that just because you only know someone through the medium of a monitor or a mobile that they're less of a friend. But I'm definitely not here to play the pantomime Dom.
Don't get me wrong, I'm quite capable of being very serious and intense and I love doing it with the right person. But online moustache-twirling and outrageous claims of fiendish tortures and ultimate superiority just look a bit silly.
Well, they do to me. No offence if that's your thing, but I just couldn't pull it off. My mind occasionally wanders very dark places, but I'm not going to put them in a profile! I don't want to go into the nitty-gritty of every toy I've got or every scene I've ever been in, so if you're looking for my kink CV then this isn't it.
I know just how I like to see subs dressed, restrained, trained, punished and used - but I will happily talk about those things in messages, not here.
I'm a firm believer in the person and the moment, and how important they are to anything you say or do while playing with them. It's different every single time. Or it should be, in my opinion...

I don't play my gorgeous guitars as much as I should, and my current private study obsession is speech writing (but I'm more of a Josh than a Toby, for any West Wing fans reading). I'm in a serious long-term relationship with my Xbox, but we're allowed to see other people. I'm a sci-fi fan, a night owl, and a winter person... ...and I think that's about it - although I'm always happy to answer questions or say hello...

Oh and yes, really scary Dom stuff. Grrrrr, whips, kneeling etc *sighs* I can be unusually cruel and strict, but I just can't make it work in a profile. So, you have what you've just read.

Anyway, thanks for doing so - feel free to just say hi, whatever your orientation.

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3/20/2018 11:01:44 PM
Can't quite believe I'm doing this: who wants a job, support towards a childcare qualification, and to hang out with one of my best friends ever?

I know quite a few of you will remember BellaPegasi from on here, who I met on ICQ (look it up, kids - it was a real thing!) back in '99. Anyway, last year Bel got married & had a little boy with someone she met on here. Probably not the kind of advertising CS can use, but there you go!
 
Anyway, it's no secret that Dom (sadisticviolence / sadisticviolenc2) and I didn't immediately see eye to eye. They have quite a 24/7 thing and when one of your best friends goes off with someone with a username like that it's natural to be a bit concerned! But he and I have been talking lots since and I've agreed to help them both out. He has a proper scary  DOMINANT profile whereas these days I usually just talk about Netflix on here. 
 
They're looking for a female nanny, preferably someone with proven childcare experience or someone willing to study towards it. They also want someone who's not going to be freaked out by their 24/7 lifestyle, which might look a bit odd to someone completely vanilla. Hence us also asking on here. 
 
Bel's a first-time mum and according to Dom she's struggling a bit, as most new mums do. As well as being one of my favourite people ever (what else do you want???) she also knows more about kids on the AS than most people. That and Supernatural. So you could learn loads. And apparently Dom's minted - so you can't go wrong!
 
If you're interested, please don't be scared by his profile - go say hello! Because it's Bel we've agreed that you can check out anything Dom tells you with me before meeting them. I'm doing this because Bel asked me to do it through Dom. She was my best friend for a loooooong time - I wouldn't be doing this otherwise! He's doing this for her and it's a great opportunity. At least go sound him out!!
 

11/7/2016 5:36:43 PM
This place has been getting awfully serious lately. So here's the definitive TV version of 'Who's on First'.  Silly premise, insanely brilliant timing, and never fails to make me smile. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kTcRRaXV-fg

11/15/2014 5:25:23 PM
This week, I have been mainly thinking about hoods and objectification. No idea where it came from but suddenly I'm fixated. And also Sherlock. Watched lots of Sherlock.

2/3/2014 5:29:57 PM
No broadband in new place yet, sorry for not getting back to people. Should be this week sometime. I confess it's been tough not being online. I started having all these weird ideas about equality and not judging people and generally being nice to my fellow humans - but then I discovered you can get the Daily Mail in paper form too, so that sorted me out. Back soon. If you do organise candlelight vigils until then, please take pics.

1/25/2014 5:19:03 PM

If you see this first, apologies that it's taken me a while to reply to your message.

 

First time online in a while: stage 1 of house move, and zero internet. Interestingly, all the "Where are you? Why haven't you replied yet? Was it something I said? Fine, you're clearly a fake! OK, that was harsh, let's just talk? I really think we've got a connection, yeah? Look, I just miss you." messages...

 

...have all been from male Doms.

 

I know, right? But we're a surprisingly sensitive and emotionally aware bunch - I really don't know where we get this scary rep from. I just wanted to say that I love you guys *smooches*


1/11/2014 5:38:11 AM

As requested, I have uploaded a facial pic.


1/3/2014 9:21:54 PM

I was hugely and inordinately lucky to be brought up in a house where our parents would affectionately expose us to their music, rather than just indulge our tastes.

 

Now I can't remember a time when I didn't know or recognise the sounds of the Everly Brothers. Sad news tonight.

 

Perfection: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NaIpXdo4KvE


9/13/2013 6:42:35 PM

DuchessTracy and IanScott01. I am making no comment as to their emotional or mental state, or how that might affect how they treat subs. Absolutely no comment at all.


8/31/2013 7:12:04 PM

I apologise in advance for the formatting.

 

This, like the other entry, was written for redfmbs who is taking a break. I can very definitely tell you that she is not under consideration from GoodSpankerUK, whatever his journal says. Don't believe the hype and all that.

The three of us sit at a rectangular dining table, Alex and I at either end, you in the middle. We all have a tall drink in front of us. It had been a long previous night's play, but a relatively lazy day with Alex deciding you should be allowed to sleep in. You had bathed her, and then she had had mainly vanilla fun with you - dressing you up and allowing you to please her, while I caught up with work.

 

Then it was her who had showered you (an experience you only barely managed to stay on your feet for) before finally dressing you for drinks. A black midriff-only corset tied tight, black rubber stockings which she had watched you slowly struggle to put on, and ballet boots which perfectly touched the floor.

 

Conversation flows between Alex and I, sometimes referencing you but never addressing you - so you know to remain silent. You listen as we speak of last night, and this afternoon - occasionally feeling the colour rush to your cheeks when we talk about you in intimate detail. There are veiled references to 'later' which put butterflies in your stomach. But yet you feel grounded, helpless but willingly so. Consciously giving us both control over your body and your actions.

 

Alex and I sip our drinks as we talk. You do not touch yours, being fully restrained in your chair. Black bondage tape complements your rubber stockings, and leather straps fasten your arms down the long sides of the back of the chair. Your posture collar has been fixed to its high back and so you sit, still as a statue.

 

Every few minutes, without even openly acknowledging we're doing it, Alex and I take it in turns to get up and lift your glass to your lips. It's done so casually that it only took a few times for it to become insanely normal to you. The fixed posture collar makes it impossible for you to move your head much, but we tip the glass slowly, not wanting this to be unpleasant for you.

 

The first sip Alex gave you, such a gentle, intimate act, had set off a chain of feelings within you that made swallowing the least of your concerns. Alex had nearly finished wiping the stray drops from the sides of your mouth before I snapped you back with "and what do you say?"

 

"Sorry Sir, thank you Miss Alex, sorry Sir…"…you hesitated, "thank you Miss Alex". Again - paranoid about your thanks getting lost amid your apologies. And so, "thank you Sir" and "thank you Miss Alex" became your only contributions to the talk in the room, as you acknowledged every sip you were given.

 

Our conversation continues to comfortably drift, as your mind comfortably swirls into acceptance and surrender. Last night had been the first time I had shared you with a Domme and it had been a terrifying, exhilarating, consuming experience - where the depth of your passion and submission had surprised even you.

 

And so now sitting here with your…owner? Co-owners? But being here purely for their pleasure and entertainment felt entirely natural. Well, maybe not natural, but certainly not un-natural. And so you only casually register it when Alex says "I think she's extra thirsty now," and pulls off the tight cropped top she'd been wearing.

 

Sliding your drink to one side she effortlessly swings a long leg up easily clearing the table, and down over the other side of your chair, needing only one hand to steady herself. Her balance and poise was flawless.

 

She stands in front of you, straddling your chair, wearing only a pair of tight running shorts. Not skintight, but short and tight enough so as to be inappropriate for any occasions other than actually running. The relaxed, subdued mood has suddenly shifted up several gears and as you can't do anything other than stare at her midriff and breasts, your heart pounds. 

 

"There's no need to be afraid" she gently says, "I just thought you'd like some more of your drink." And dipping two fingers into your glass, she coats the area around one pert nipple with the cocktail.

 

Putting both hands on the tall back of your chair she bends her long legs slightly, lowering her chest towards your mouth. She knows the posture collar prevents you from moving towards her, so she makes her approach as torturously slow as possible. Your vision is now completely filled by the liquid glistening around her nipple. Yet although opening your mouth to receive it is the impulse shooting through you, you dare not until told to.

 

"That's ok, pretty" she says will a velvety tone. "Taste your drink".

 

Closing the last couple of centimetres, her breast reaches your now open mouth. God, the cocktail has never tasted so sweet or so potent. You suck and lick long after all traces of it have gone from her skin.

 

She withdraws, dips her fingers in your drink again and repeats with the other nipple. Knowing what's expected of you now, you're eager, straining against the posture collar. Both her hands either side of your head are on the back of your chair, as though she's pinning you to a bed. Again, your instruction is to lick and suck to clear the cocktail from her skin, but you take a chance and try to use your mouth on her just for pleasure.

 

"Oh, good girl" she sighs, "you remembered what I like from last night". You did, mainly because that knowledge had come at the cost of a few marks.

 

More cocktail, more sucking. You're aware of one hand now being down her tight shorts, but you're not sure whether it's the hand going into your drink and anointing her breasts or not. You don't care. You just want her.

 

After an unusually long time in your mouth, during which you're more aware than usual of her sighing and grinding her hips, she pulls back and gracefully dismounts you. Her breasts have been all you've known, and you're left lost and slightly dazed.

 

Alex sits on my lap and I cup and fondle her breasts, still slightly moist from your attentions. "I want to do it to her now" she says. Out of the corner of your eye you see us kiss deeply and passionately, and then me leave the room. Alex slides off her shorts and I return, handing her things you can't see. 

 

Straddling you again but this time sitting on your lap, she suddenly kisses you full and long in a moment you wish could be frozen in time for ever. Her slender frame is noticeable but not uncomfortable on your rubber-clad legs, and you're aware of how your chair pulls your thighs apart, leaving you exposed.

 

Sitting on you puts her slightly above you, and as she instructs you to make eye contact your eyes have to roll up to compensate for the posture collar. She leans back and picks up the objects from the table. "For the next hour" she whispers into your mouth "it's just you, me…" she leans back and brings a vibrator in front of your face, "this, and…" she produces a large, clear plastic big, "this". You feel like you've stepped off the edge of a chasm.

 

Alex matter of factly puts the bag over your head, calmly explaining how the drawstring at the bottom works as she pulls it tight against your collar. Initially you feel no different, and you wonder if these scenes are just faked. Alex slowly strokes your arms, up and down, not saying anything.

 

After a couple of moments, lost in her stroking, you notice a breath in isn't as deep as the last. And the next one even less so. Alex is still slowly stroking your arms. To make up for the shallowness of your breaths, you take quicker ones. This helps for a few seconds, but then they cease to replenish you either, and you're suddenly aware of straining against your bonds.

 

"Ready for some air?" Alex casually asks - and you desperately want to nod or speak but oh god you can't nod or speak, not enough air is coming in for you to make a sound. Alex loosens the fastener on the bag to its widest, and you gulp in air as though it's the first you've ever tasted. 

 

"What do you say?"

"Th-thank you Miss Alex" you gasp.

"That wasn't very long, I'm hoping you can do better" she says as she slides the bag fastener closed again. Replete with air again the bag is fine, but your mind is already racing ahead to when it isn't. 

 

Rather than stroking your arms this time, Alex fondles your breasts and gently squeezes and twists your nipples. The instinctive gasps and sighs that this brings do nothing to help your situation, and soon once again you find yourself on the edge of losing your mind, helpless with Alex sitting on your lap.

 

She repeats this again and again - sometimes with her hands on your breasts, sometimes on yours, sometimes between your legs, sometimes between hers. Your recovery level is reducing each time, and things are taking on a floaty, surreal feel. After every time, "what do you say?" and your increasingly breathy and grateful "thank you Miss Alex"s are sounding more and more devoted.

 

"I want to cum this time" says, reaching for the vibrator and closing the bag, "I trust you'll give me long enough".

 

Oh god, how long? But you have no fight left. Sweat encases your upper body, running down over your corset. The perspiration from your upper thighs mixes with Alex's, making your rubber stockings slick enough for Alex to slide backwards and forwards on them, and there's a pool between them on the chair. All you know is Her. You can't signal when you want to breathe; She decides when you can.

 

"Not. Long. Enough." she admonishes. "Again." The bag closes.

 

As she massages her clit with the vibrator, she talks to you about some of the things we did to you last night. "And now here I am, controlling whether you breathe or not".

 

You're not entirely sure where you are any more. There is only Her. One touch on your clit from her would be enough to make you explode for ever.

 

"What do you say??" 

"Yes Miss Alex, thank you Miss Alex" the words have nearly lost all meaning.

 

"I can see you're struggling without my mercy, aren't you?"

"Yes, Miss Alex"

"I think someone with this much power over you deserves a grander title, don't you?"

"Yes, Miss Alex"

"What do you think it should be?"

"Whatever…whatever you decide Miss Alex?"

 

"Oh no, I'm afraid I require a little more imagination than that". The bag again. Her thumbs make small circles on the insides of your thighs. She could blow on your clit now and you'd come. You pray she doesn't, you know the huge breaths which wrack your body afterwards. Not now, please not now. Without the posture collar your head would be jerking backwards and drooping forward.

 

"What do you say?"

"Thank you Miss….Mistress Alex"

"Oh dear, not what I was hoping for at all."

 

She closes the bag before it has a chance to refill, giving you no respite at all. "What am I?"

 

It comes to you. But in a way it has always been there, since I first brought her into our bedroom as you were tied. It was there last night, and today and tonight. She can see you try to speak, the most you've ever tried to do anything. Saying this to her is even more important to you than breathing at the moment. She opens the bag.

 

"Goddess. You're my Goddess. You're my Goddess. You're my Goddess." Dizzy and disoriented and filling your body with stupefying oxygen, this sentence is the only thing you know, and you say it over and over. "You're my Goddess. You're My Goddess."

 

"And what will you do for your Goddess?"

 

"Anything, Goddess, anything". And you mean it. 

 

She unfastens your posture collar and your head falls forward. She cradles it in her shoulder, stroking your hair. "But you couldn't hold your breath long enough to let me cum, would you like to please me another way?"

 

"Yes my Goddess, anything my Goddess". Without ever being told, that was now your default way of answering her. This seems to please her.

 

She continues to stroke your hair for a while, knowing what she's just put you through and yet also knowing it's not quite over. I watch you both intently.

 

After a few minutes where despite your restraints, you feel as though you've melted into her - she stands up. Alex and I put down several heavy towels to protect the wooden floor, and then between us we tip your chair back until it's flat. 

 

She kneels, her thighs straddling your head - but kneeling up, so her shaved pussy is out of reach. I saw how much you worshipped it last night, I know how much you want it now. "Are you going to please me with that pretty tongue of yours?" she asks, as I brush stray strands of hair behind your ears.

 

"Yes my Goddess, anything my Goddess."

 

She lowers herself onto you, not enough to stop you breathing, but enough for you to reach her. I bring your drink down from the table and soak my fingers in it, then rub between her legs. My fingers, your mouth, her pussy, the cocktail, all mix, again and again.

 

After a while I can sense she wants more and I move behind your head, holding it, letting her grind properly on your tongue. You can hear our kisses interrupt her moans. She makes the same orgasmic sounds as she did last night, and you continue to lick until she pulls away, breathing heavily. You hope you've pleased her.

 

"That was lovely. Now, are you ready to accept me fully?"

 

"Yes my Goddess, anything my Goddess". A phrase you'd never said out loud an hour ago was now seemingly hard-wired into you, even when you didn't particularly understand the question. But as she lifted your head so I could place the ring gag in your mouth and fasten it behind your head, you had a glimmer of realisation.

 

"Are you ready to receive me?" Your answer was the same, intelligible but corrupted by the gag. You tried to prepare yourself.

 

She stroked a finger around the ring of the gag. "I'm not always a fan of these….things, but it is our first time." Around and around her finger went. "I don't want you to drink, just let your mouth fill. Breathe through your nose, and don't swallow. You can do that, can't you?"

 

"Yes my Goddess, anything my Goddess" through the gag.

 

She moves over you, and begins to stream into your mouth. You feel my hands on either side of your head, keeping you in place. You breathe rapidly through your nose, feeling her, hearing her, and on some level aware of how much you're giving her. 

 

And then she stops. It's over.

 

I quickly turn your head to the side, spilling the contents of your mouth onto the towels and allowing you a couple of coughs. Then I return your head pointing upwards, and she begins again. And again. And again. She has tremendous control, and you receive it all.

 

She removes the gag and uses your tongue one last time, while I start your aftercare preparations. This time she's much slower, gently moving forward onto you, whispering encouragement and instructions - which of course you obey. Her orgasm seems deeper this time, longer. And afterwards she slides her legs back so she can lie on top of you, her legs spread each side of your chair, kiss you passionately. Still bound, still helpless, still anxious, still wanting to please…but safe, and wanted.

 

After pleasuring us last night you were moved to the cage beside the bed. Tonight I think you can spend all night with us, and I know you long to say that phrase again, as much as I long to hear you say it.

 


8/27/2013 5:29:48 PM

I have yahoo now for the stuff which isn't appropriate for here. Message me if you want to do deviance under a different username.


7/27/2013 6:44:33 PM

Hi, sorry but I'm getting swamped with messages. I will get round to them all, but if you want to prove you've read my profile and journal, please tell me what colour shorts Ali Bastian wears in the Hollyoaks workout DVD and also what Milhouse's surname is in The Simpsons.

I'm sorry to have to be so prescriptive, but as a single male Dom you can understand I get deluged with unsolicited messages.

 


7/13/2013 9:42:17 PM

This is possibly me just being picky, I dunno. In your profile, if listing your hard limits, it's ok to say 'knife play' or 'breath play'. It's really not necessary to say 'kids'. I sort of ASSUMED THAT.


6/19/2013 4:23:42 AM

I'm always highly suspicious of people logged on here during normal working hours. 

 

Unless it's me, then it's fine.


6/14/2013 9:51:14 PM

Currently under consideration. NO! Wait - what I meant was, currently feeling under-consideration.

 

Of course properly being under consideration is very serious and is actually a real thing and not just the best dom invention ever. I'm currently under consideration to be a Jedi. 

 

This is why the other Dom/mes don't like me, isn't it.

 

 


6/11/2013 9:58:23 PM

Currently slightly obsessed with this picture, for reasons some of you who know me will understand! (Safe for work, for those of you who are brave enough to come here while at work!) http://imgbox.com/abmCRea6


5/28/2013 6:09:07 PM

Just playing along with the memes: 1) Keira Knightley 2) Kate Beckinsale 3) Michelle Trachtenberg 4) Carol Vorderman 5) Emma Watson


3/6/2013 4:01:55 PM

The sincerest of apologies for abandoning this place and not replying to messages. Real Life took a bit of a sudden left turn, and coming here under the circumstances felt a bit...weird? I just haven't been in a kink frame of mind, and even though I know the first rule of CM is that you don't HAVE to talk about CM - it still wasn't an association that's been in my head.


2/6/2013 2:50:48 PM

Nearly time to upgrade my phone. That's right, it's phoneporn time. I've already been told on here that I'm too old to own an Xbox, so god only knows what that person would think about phoneporn.


 

What is the de rigeur smartphone for the Dom about town? Where are the adverts aimed at us?

 



Maybe I should just go into Carphone Warehouse and when they ask "so what kind of things do you use your phone for?" I should say "primarily accessing fetish sites at my desk, also taking pictures of hooded, bound women and sending sexually aggressive and explicit emails. Oh, you meant do I make a lot of long distance calls? Well. This is awkward."


2/2/2013 1:28:36 AM

If having sex with dogs is your thing that's fine, but please don't have 'LOL' in your profile? Some of us have socially respectable hard limits.


2/1/2013 11:13:32 PM

Thank you for all the kind comments on my little scenario, story-type thing. I'm not actually married, but had someone physically in mind while I was writing it. YES, FROM HOLLYOAKS; IT STILL COUNTS. Artistic license, innit.


1/30/2013 3:23:01 PM

"Look faggot, i am not a SUB, and dont need to talk to other fag doms either, so i dont care what your into, but fuck off!!!"

 

You've just...well you've just got to LOVE talking to other male Doms here on CM. Is it the casual, off-hand bigotry? The illiteracy? The needless abuse? I just can't put my finger on it. All I know is, you subs sure are a lucky to have us around.


1/23/2013 1:13:51 PM

It's been ages since I voluntarily pushed a noun against a verb for anything other than a Facebook update. This was sort of inspired by a dream for which I hold the ethereal redfmbs entirely responsible. It got written, and it's not quite Facebook material. Make of it what you will...

 


"Exactly!" she laughs, "it's not like we can go in on Mondays and talk about what we've really been up to at the weekend!" Your nerves gradually fading, you agree with a self-conscious giggle.

 

This wasn't really what you'd been expecting. The extensive messaging, the rather stilted coffee-shop meeting where the three of us had finally met face to face - it had all made you feel that this night was sure to be something intense, something…other than your previous encounters. But here you sat, casually chatting with her about all manner of things, as though it was nothing out of the ordinary.

 

"Please forgive me, I'll just text him to let him know you got here a little early." Ever since you arrived she had been so polite, so courteous - everything from taking your jacket (while complimenting you on it) to offering you a drink. Again, it was not what you had been anticipating. Not that you were entirely sure what you'd been anticipating, but you were fairly sure it wasn't this. In a strange kind of way, you had almost forgotten why you were even here.

 

Within a minute her phone buzzes on the table. "Excuse me," she says as though it were some dreadful imposition, "I'll just check if this is him." You notice her slender wrists and the way her long fingers quickly and lightly manipulate the phone. In her hands even such a mundane task took on a delicate, almost balletic grace. You gaze slightly transfixed, noticing a sparkle in her eyes and the seductive suggestion of a smile pass her lips.

 

"It was him. He says he's running a little late but it's ok to start without him." She calmly places the phone on the table and looks you straight in the eyes.

 

"Put down your drink and take off your clothes."

 

The sudden change in her tone of voice, and the directness of the instructions combine to make your breath catch in your throat. You open your mouth as if to speak, to make sure you'd heard correctly - when a tidal wave of realisation crashes through your mind, almost making you lightheaded. Of course this was why you were here - the drink, the friendly chat, the relaxed atmosphere, had all served to distract you, make you forget.

 

You slowly stand, and notice a tremble in your hands as you fumble with buttons and zips. Two minutes ago you were a relaxed, professional woman enjoying pleasant conversation - now you're shakily disrobing in front of a steely-eyed goddess. You wonder if she can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

 

"Clothes on the chair over there." The tiny, everyday words of politeness which casually decorated her sentences earlier, are now devastating in their absence. She still has not moved from her seat. As you place the items as neatly as possible, your mind races with the fear all subs have when meeting a new dominant: with no framework or instruction, everything you do can potentially be wrong. You pray she will direct you before you've finished arranging your clothes. She does not.

 

You turn at the chair, facing towards her. She tells you to kneel in the centre of the room and you silently comply. She has not given you a title for herself yet, and you dare not guess at one. In your mind it feels like ages since you last spoke; it's been about five minutes.

 

"He told me to expect better," she says coolly, "shouldn't your hands be behind your back?" You quickly move them, but you can't stop the heat rising in your cheeks. Such a stupid mistake. You pray the colour in your face isn't noticeable, but her "Yes, I think I'd be blushing if I were you" dashes your hopes, and only makes them burn more.

 

She stands and leaves the room, while you remain motionless. After a few moments she returns from behind you, and she tosses a collection of items onto the couch. You hear the unmistakeable jangle of metal fasteners. Leather cuffs are placed around your wrists and ankles. Standing behind you, she fastens a sturdy blindfold over your eyes.

 

"He's told me you don't particularly care for ball-gags - but given that we have some time before he's home, I think I'll treat myself." The gag has a head harness, and the straps run over the blindfold, securing that in place as well. She fastens it tight. Lying you on your front, she uses five or six thin leather straps to securely hogtie you. You can feel her fingers moving quickly and deftly, and your mind brings up images of the phone in her hands. That feels like so long ago.

 

"It won't take me long to get the room ready, but I want you to be absolutely clear on one thing. While you're in our house, you are under our control. It doesn't matter whether you're like this for five minutes or five hours - if that's what I want, that's how you'll be." You hear her leave again, and risk some experimental flexing of your limbs. Nothing. She had done her job properly, as I'd warned you she would. You try not to think about what 'getting the room ready' means.

 

After a while she returns and releases you from the hog tie. Fortunately cramp has not had time to set in, and you are able to stand. She silently supports you while you rise, as she has not seen fit to remove the gag or blindfold. "Now we're going for a little walk, " she says with a lilt in her voice. "Usually at this point I'd put you on a leash, but he wants us all to be there when we put your first collar on you. Isn't that thoughtful? Yes, we've spent lots of time thinking about this, bringing you into our marriage - we have so many plans." 

 

Her tone is almost conversational as she takes you by the arm and leads you through the house. You shuffle nervously beside her, although she assures you there are no steps. "Relax, my sweet - I don't want you getting hurt…well, not accidentally," she laughs. You shiver slightly at that, and hope she doesn't notice. 'Relax, my sweet' was said in that beautiful, lyrical, lilting way of talking that she often had, and feeling your arm gently wrapped in hers only made the end of the sentence - and what you were walking towards, even more surreal.

 

You feel the floor change under your feet, and hear the sudden clack of her heels on wood. Letting go of your arm, she walks away and soft, classical music starts to play in the room. "I know it's not 'scene'," you can hear the inflection in her voice, "but I can't bear that awful industrial rubbish. I'd much rather have something nice to listen to. You're going to give me something nice to listen to, aren't you?" 

 

A debate rages in your head about whether that was a rhetorical question or not. Already drunk with the intensity of the situation, and further disoriented by your blindfolded walk, you can no longer be sure. You nod tentatively, not even completely sure what it is you're agreeing with or to.

 

"Yes, I'm sure you will. So we'd better get rid of this." From behind you she removes the gag before attaching your wrists above your head, to fastenings wider apart than your shoulders. Having never been in the room before, and having been brought in blindfolded, your subconscious is sending signals to your body that, in the absence of any kind of information, it's probably sensible to be anxious.

So although standing perfectly still, your pulse is elevated and your skin is warm. And as she attaches your ankle cuffs to what you imagine must be similar hooks on the floor, you notice your shallow breathing.

 

As does she. It feels like you've been locked inside your head for so long, only aware of sensations and thoughts, that you've forgotten to perceive yourself from the outside as well. But even as your body has been silently communicating your nerves, she has been watching, studying, learning. 

 

"You're so nervous my sweet, it's coming off you in waves." There is no doubt in her voice, and no detectable sympathy either. That doesn't exactly serve to relax you. She places the palm of her hand over your heart - not in an obviously sexual way, but rather to share in its pounding. "I'd be lying if I said that didn't help me," she says mysteriously, as her hand moves down and gently cups your breast. Definitely more sexual. "Thanks to you, all I'll have to do is raise the temperature in here a couple of degrees, and you'll soon be glistening." She pauses. "And I do like glistening." Her hand moves down over your stomach, long fingers trailing slowly over your skin.

 

"And all that blood rushing to your skin - well, that's going to make it extra sensitive for me." Not just sensitive, but sensitive for her. For her. Her words are slow and her voice soft, low, and hypnotic. You feel her walk around behind you, hear her heels clicking oh-so-slowly on the floor, and you give an involuntary shiver as the back of her hand strokes up the middle of your back. "And so much easier for me to leave pretty marks as well." While you're still processing her words, she drags the nails of one hand back down the path she has just gently caressed. 

 

You don't cry out, but rather take a loud intake of breath and gasp. This sets your heart racing and your breath fluttering even more. Again, the slow click of heels walking around the other side of you. Then nothing. No movement, no sound other than your own loud breathing.

 

Without warning a hand is in your hair, pulling it down, and her mouth is on yours. Your knees are forced to bend inwards slightly to allow her to be over you, but you barely notice as she captures you - one hand in your hair, the other in the small of your back - while her lips cover you. It is a fierce kiss; long, deep explorations broken up by short, passionate attacks. You forget where and who you are. Or rather you do not forget, but you do not care.

 

As suddenly as it began, it ends. You are barely conscious of the sound of heels walking away from you, far too busy trying to reign in the infinite strands of thoughts, sensations and feelings which are flying and intertwining in your head. Was this what you'd been expecting? Not for all the money in the world could you sum up your emotions in one word right now.

 

And then that voice again, from a small distance in front of you. Still soft, still musical, but with no hint of the passion or heat of the recent kiss. "Oh my sweet, look at you." Not mocking, but…not enough to convince you she is entirely sympathetic. "This is all moving very quickly for you, isn't it?"

A definite question. Not one you can avoid this time, and not one there is any answer to other than 'yes'.  Without your gag, you are now faced with a choice. Given what's happening, replying with a nod seems….insufficient, even disrespectful? You gather your courage and quietly say, "Yes Mistress".

 

The next few seconds seem to last an eternity until she says, "I know, I know. But don't worry my sweet." You hear the sound of…something, swishing through the air several times. "We're going to take this next part nice and slowly."


1/20/2013 7:21:52 PM

So I'm back here then :-) For those who have asked, it's a Gibson ES-355 and yes, it has to be cherry red. Lots of Dommes demand tributes from subs, so I am asking you - in the name of equality - to buy me one. Oh, go on. Go on go on go on.

 

I've woken up in the middle of the night to find snow. Not enough snow to safely turn off the alarm, but enough to now wake me every hour to see if I can safely turn off the alarm. Great.


12/8/2012 7:41:51 PM

Have been a bit rubbish at this side of my life. Apologies to all concerned.


5/28/2011 7:14:13 PM

Can't actually believe I'm doing this, but three messages on just this point alone within two hours is enough.

In The Wizard of Oz, Dorothy, the Scarecrow and the Tin Man set off on the yellow brick road and eventually enter a forest where they worry about encountering "Lions and tigers and bears, oh my!"

It's quite a well-known bit. Or so I thought.

You (unless you're one of the three people that messaged me - and now I worry about how many people thought about it but just couldn't be bothered) may have noticed that "subbies and bitches and sluts, oh my!" scans exactly the same as the Oz quote.
It's almost as if I had always intended it to.
No, that's not how I refer to subs. 
*sighs* Stewart Lee could get twenty minutes out of this.

 


5/28/2011 3:34:55 PM

If I appear to be slow in reading or responding to messages at the moment, it's mainly because my Dad is currently in intensive care.

I would love for this to not be affecting me. I would love to be the kind of Dom for whom the importance of being an arrogant wanker transcends all else, and who cares little for matters other than subbies and bitches and sluts (oh my!)

Sadly however, I have yet to earn my black belt in dominance. (I assume the highest level is black, what with the dress code and all.)

I mention this not to elicit any sympathy, but simply because I was recently informed by a sub on here that not responding to a message within 24hrs was rude. Well, we don't all have the ad breaks during Jeremy Kyle in which to write our messages, dear.

See? Doms, subs - I am lashing out in an 'equal opportunities' kinda way.


5/15/2011 2:47:06 PM

*sighs* You can always tell it's a school night when noisy-open-window-sex woman from the next building is getting it before 11pm.  Live a little, for christ sakes.


4/20/2011 9:49:00 AM

Many many years ago, as I took my first faltering steps into the fascinating, frightening world of BDSM, I found a seedy little shop in town that sold under-the-counter bondage videos.

Up above the counter the guy had a sign saying, 'Politeness costs nothing!!!!!' (To preserve narrative integrity I've replicated the exact number of exclamation marks.)


"How peculiar," I initially thought, "that someone in possession of videos of people being hurt and humiliated, would place such importance on common courtesy?" - as though the two things had to be mutually exclusive.


Of course I now know that this doesn't have to be the case, but coming on here you often wouldn't think that.


A good while ago I unplugged myself from the lighthearted, jolly Matrix that is collarme, and went wandering in the wilderness of the real world. I tasted vanilla delights and I enjoyed them immensely. Nobody I met treated it like a competition or a popularity contest, nobody I met looked down on anybody else's preferences, and most importantly nobody I met had delusions of grandeur.


But back on here for just a little while, and it seems that for all the sneering and barely concealed yawning at all things vanilla, there are just as many (if not more) fragile and fevered egos among the online kink community as the vanilla.


Now don't get me wrong, I'm not talking about the usual bluster and swagger you expect from some Dom/mes, or the coquettishness or brattishness that some subs display.


For those of us not so immersed in the lifestyle that we can no longer remember our real names or avoid referring to ourselves in the third person, there is an element of play-acting in all this. And that's great.


It's fun and healthy to take out that hidden side of us occasionally, to play with it and exaggerate it. There is a time when it just feels wonderful and right to say, "Get on your knees, now." But that time is rarely the team meeting on Monday mornings. And so doing it online, in the right place, with the right people, is fine.


No, I'm talking about when the playing spills over into just plain ol' non-sexy, unimpressive rudeness. Politeness, as the sign said, costs nothing.


Just the other day, a woman in town held the door open for me without me even commanding her to. I was in a hurry so without thinking, I smiled and thanked her.

It was only later that I realised what I'd done - but imagine my pleasant surprise when I returned home that evening and my whips and chains HADN'T turned to dust!


Yes, I realise that at this point I'm abusing sarcasm. Look, if you WANT to be referred to as bitch, slut, or whore - if you WANT everyone to address you as Master or Mistress - if you MUST have a reply within 48 hours - then that's perfectly ok. But don't assume, or even worse behave, as though everyone who doesn't have precisely the same Kink Quotient as you is somehow inferior.

You don't have to be rude to be a Dom/me, you don't have to be a doormat to be a sub (or both/either to be switch, I guess). It's pretty much Kink 101.

And I'm not for one second talking about everyone on here or everyone on kink sites generally. I've met lots of perfectly splendid people on collarme; clever, funny, kind, genuine and interesting people. Who also, as it turns out, are as kinky as hell.

But those other qualities are in no way because of, despite of, or in any way linked to their kinkiness. Just as common courtesy and politeness are in no way linked to it. And who knows, maybe I'm just as bad, after all there is none so brave as the anonymous keyboard warrior.

But all I know is that being kinky doesn't automatically give you the right to an over-sized ego or a free pass at rudeness. It does not automatically make you deeper, more interesting or more worthy of attention than someone who enjoys romcoms and cuddles on the sofa.

Not everyone's life revolves around kink or this site and so to spell it out one last time: neither owning Europe's largest collection of floggers nor being the prettiest sub with the cleverest profile means you should think you can get away with being a bigger douchebag than the rest of us mere mortals.

There, I feel better now.


9/10/2009 4:36:16 PM
Maybe I'm being a greedy, self-centred Dom. It's always about us, our wants, our needs. But I DEMAND better fakes on this site. I want to have masturbated over your copy+pasted picture four or five times before I realise you're called George and you're from Birmingham. I want to believe that you ARE actually willing to relocate, before you tell me you need my bank details to make it happen. I want to chat to you about bdsm, without having to tell you what bdsm actually is. Letter by letter. I want to know why you're a 19yr old bisexual pain slut with no limits...who wants people to tell you what they'd do to you. Even for a masochist that's just lazy. It's the internet, we all bend the truth a little. I am actually slightly less attractive than my profile suggests - see, even I do it. But if you ARE going to fake then PLEASE don't use the 'inexperienced 20yr old' thing, or tell me that English is honestly your first language when your sentences are basically words thrown together optimistically. I want better fakes!

8/31/2009 12:12:07 AM
?Don?t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes YOU come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs, is people who have come alive.? - Howard Thurman (with thanks to silhoutte for letting me read that for the first time.)

8/21/2009 5:00:23 PM
Right, something that has always bothered me about kink profiles. Breath-play, knife-play, hoods, extreme pain, WS, scat, animals, whatever - all fine limits if you want them as limits. It's just when people feel the need to add in 'kids'. Why would you? It's as though if people DIDN'T say it, we'd just assume you were totally up for some pre-pubescent action. Surely it doesn't even need to be said? I mean - no matter how much you plead, no matter how much you beg, I will not kill, cook and eat you. Should I mention that as one of my limits?* *Don't get me wrong - I WILL kill and eat you, but I absolutely refuse to cook when there are subbies standing around idle :-p It just feels a bit weird that people have to expressly say they're not into kids, cos I thought it was pretty much the default position... Tonight's rant over :-)

8/19/2009 9:59:02 PM
"I used to think it was awful that life was so unfair. Then I thought - wouldn?t it be much worse if life WERE fair, and all the terrible things that happen to us come because we actually deserve them? So now I take great comfort in the general hostility and unfairness of the universe.? - Marcus Cole, Babylon 5

8/18/2009 11:35:52 PM
Rocky always gets knocked down before he wins, someone getting dumped led to 'I Will Survive' being written, and diamonds are only made through time and pressure. Fuck negativity. If anybody wants me, I'm heading down that Atlanta highway with the B-52s....

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LovingLilBitch
 
 Age: 18
  Massachusetts