I am entirely curious when this website seems to have grown into tribute only. 

I realize that there are men that have this as a fetish. Giving women money in exchange for pictures, attention, and the like. I am not one of those men, and I fear that makes this website not for me. Which is unfortunate, as the means to find other people on here is usually quite interesting. While this may be the -largest- bdsm community on the planet, am I forced to have to give tribute for any real connection? Well, at least a connection born in d/s. 

I want a relationship. A woman who is not only dominant, but also seeks love to submit, and to be given. To be offered love, and to be worshiped by the person giving love. Has this website really -mostly- given in to love being a paid to earn service?

Perhaps I just live in the wrong part of the world, or I'm not checking out enough profiles, but it just seems that most of the people here just demand tribute in exchange for services. Honestly, the best tribute another person can give to another is definitely not money. One's time, one's effort, one's desire to please the other does not all require gifts of monetary value. While there will probably be some that dislike this, or at least don't agree, they would be the some that offer me nothing but naughty bits behind a sign with dollar signs on it. 

More power to the men that enjoy this fetish, or find this type of servitude attractive. I certainly don't now. I'll attempt to make a full profile again, perhaps to at least find a connection. A relationship isn't required as there are women out there already that I find to be more than worth my time.

Thus far the greatest monetary tribute I wish to offer them is my buying myself a plane ticket to see them personally. And not for a session which while nice, seems somewhat impersonal. 

BDSM for me is a relationship. 

???? I was told, that I should write something. As to what, I'm not quite sure, but I guess I could drift off into a land of cliches, so why not write of how I found such a scene. I'm twenty-five, and was a very good boy in High School. Never did anything deviant, besides sucking a girl's toes and feet for three hours while she slept once. Naughty, yes I know. But I enjoyed it terribly.

?? Now, the real kicker is that the -kink- inherant in my life would only wink at me, if you pardon a small rhyme. When it winked, it was short, but it was enough to make me twitch, and want more than I could understand.

? I found, I love women. No, I've always loved women, but I found just how much I did. In High School, I was heavily into photography, I had female models of which I could take any picture I desired of. I loved their smiles, their lips, I loved every action, every inaction, every movement, and every stagnant second of their existance. Every part is an adventure, and every inch is a new wonder.

A woman, is beyond a beautiful thing to me. That is what awoke my desire for a lifestyle like this. Words can only go so far. A smile, and a bow can touch their minds only so much. I want to show them, to serve them, to please them. Its gone past being a fetish, past being a desire. Its a need, to please. I live for it, in a way that I can't quite understand. I've made it a choice to not orgasm, before she does. Whomever that lucky girl is. I want her, to smile, to laugh, to moan, and groan. I want to see that sadistic grin cross her features as she manages to draw another scream of sensual, and passionate pain from my throat.

I love women. My submission to them, is what I need. Some could say, perhaps I'm being selfish in thinking I could please them. But, I live to learn new ways. I enjoy being able to please them with mere typed words. I strive, when I can make a woman moan with just two fingers placed somewhere other then between her nether lips. I, live, on knowing that it is I, that has pleased her.

When I find that special woman, which I believe I may have. Know that she will get all this that I have to offer in levels that words could never give justice too.

I've spent my life, mostly lonely. Always a head full of dreams of romance, and heroism, and salvation. Ah, the glory of being able to save the noble lady from a grave terror. How pleasing it would be to drink a smooth wine with her under candle light, on a beautiful blood red satin sheet. To know that my life, was meant for her alone.

I could imagine, I could dream, I could teach, and speak on the many splendored things regarding a woman.?Everything they do, are things I?regard as amazing. Know that, I will love this woman I've found. For she is the fiery red headed passion that I never thought I could find. A dominant, aggressive lady that I know will cling to me when we sleep. Such wonderful and amazing and glorious wonders with her. To see someone so vicious, kissing your lips, and holding you close, after she just finished giving you the bruise to remember for the rest of your life.. To know that she would sooner die for you, as she would strike your back until you bleed. Such amazing things she is capable of. This woman. The woman.

My heart flutters, and grows heavy with the thought of her. She can build me and break me. She can take me, and she can leave me. She can inspire me and she drive me to nothing. She is my everything and my void.

I gladly will let her know, that she is more than a mistress, more than a goddess. This is why I prefer this lifestyle, I can express my love in ways others wouldn't understand, or even want to hear.

I prefer this lifestyle, for society can hardly harbor any techniques that I may use to please her. To love her, to be her own in ways that men have died and bled for.

So many words, so many ways, so many wonderful and splendid things I could go on and on and on about to describe this woman. This perfection, this amazing, this ravishing, exotic, terrible, horrible, ravaging, and loving woman. This mistress, we call her. This domme, this lady, this queen. I love her.

In my mind, she'll never die. She'll never be ugly. She'll never be poor, or sad, or weak. In my mind. She is beautiful incarnate, desire specialized, and rich in ways that only an orgasm drawn out in hours could even explain. She is my joy, and my strength. Her inspiration is something that murder, and disease will never touch.

She is my love, my mistress. She is the reason I chose this lifestyle. The destiny of meeting her, before I ever met her..

I love her.