For all you fellows out there griping about not getting replies, "even if it's just to say no thanks", understand that we (women) often get tons of messages on these sites, many or most from guys who are sending out copypasta to every woman on the site, without bothering to read a profile first.  Yes, it only takes a minute or so to reply to ONE message, but multiply that by dozens of messages per day, per site. And then there is the fact that the majority of our, "No thank you", messages result in then being insulted, harassed, going from being beautiful and desireable to being a fat, old, ugly bitch, whore, cunt, and worse, and often threatened with being beaten, raped, killed, doxxed, etc... All for the crime of a polite rejection to some random dude in our inbox. So, instead of assuming that you are ENTITLED to a woman's time and attention simply because you messaged her, how about you read profiles before messaging, only send a message if it does not violate any boundaries listed in said profile, and is not asking for or offering things she does not specifically say she is looking for in said profile, and makes an effort to treat her as a human being, rather than a sex or fetish dispenser. And then, if you don't get a reply, take that as she is either busy and will get back to you when she has time, or she is not interested, without getting all pissy because she did not reply to your unsolicited message. Also, unless you reply to EVERY unsolicited email, phone call, junk mail, etc. that you receive, with at least a polite, "no thank you", then you are a hypocrite for expecting such of others who did not ask you to contact them.  

Update---- I've tried adding new pictures several times again and it just don't work. I've tried deleting all of my old pictures from 3 years ago but they stay and you're lucky if even one new picture comes once they finally approve  your pictures. I remember the old site, collarme and it was awesome. It was a couple that started that site and when they broke up, the male partner insisted he be the one to keep this site going. She warned us all that this site would become a train wreck and omg how right she was!    I'm hardly ever on here anymore. It's too hard to even send out messages with the f'ed upward puzzle that often fails to recognize that you got the puzzle right. Etc etc etc.  What a shame is all I can say.   Omg I hate this site so bad, it is so fucked up!! I tried to remove one photo and add a recent one..  So I'm down for two days, comes back on and no changes were made.  I have much better pictures now, these are all from 3 years ago.  I've since learned to use makeup much better and have been on hormones for 15 months and I'm much more feminine now.  I guess I'm stuck with what's on here..  Unbelievable!!!! 

On Losing the Thread I have lost my job. Layoffs, because the market is what it is right now, which is to say brutal and indifferent and entirely uninterested in timing or circumstance or the particular weight of losing income when everything else is already precarious. I am not alone in this. That does not make it lighter. Chicago may not be where I land. That sentence costs me something to write because I have fought for this city, for the proximity to my children's lives and the future I was building here, and the possibility of leaving it feels like one more thing being taken from a season that has already taken too much. I wanted so much more than this moment. I want to be honest about that without dressing it up. I wanted the beautiful home and the man on his knees inside it, wanted to be served with the devotion I have written about and dreamed about and know with complete certainty I deserve. I wanted mornings that felt like the life I designed rather than the life that is happening to me. I wanted to be so thoroughly served and so completely held that the hard seasons had somewhere soft to land. Instead I am here. Tired. Hoping anyway, because I do not seem to be built for the alternative. But today I am allowing myself to say: this is not what I wanted. I wanted more.   I still do.  

Since my last journal entry things have moved on fairly significantly. Glenn who is Sue's former bull from years ago and his partner Deb are very active swingers as well as being into the bdsm scene and have encouraged Sue to visit them on a fairly regular basis. At the moment she is going virtually every other weekend plus the occasional night away. I will confine this entry to just one of her visits and hopefully keep you updated on a more regular basis if anyone is interested.  On this particular occasion Glenn and Debs were going to an event up country so rather than Sue drive down to there house she arranged to meet them at Exeter services and I was to drive her there. Sue had taken the Friday and Monday off to allow plenty of time. Usually Glenn specifies what Sue should wear for the journey and this time was no different although a little more discreet as they would be stopping at services, so Sue was dressed in a silver satin blouse, black knee-length skirt, but with a rear slit, black seamed stockings with suspender belt and black patent heels as she wasn't driving. Over this her shiny pvc mac, she was in full make up including bright red nails and wearing her handcuff necklace and ankle chain and I must admit she looked so fucking sexy. At the services I dropped her off in the carpark and she walked into the entrance to meet Glenn and Debs pulling her wheeled suitcase that had several outfits, toys and hoods in. I was in my new tiny chastity cage and wearing satin panties and stockings under my trousers as instructed by Glenn.  I will add more as soon as I have time. 

Apparently it's time for a much needed journal entry, because my inbox is flooded with messages. A lot of nice messages from nice people with whom nice contact has already arisen, but unfortunately there are also a lot of people out there with (sexual) frustrations or worse. To make things clear to everyone who seeks me out to have a chat, if you have an extensive wishlist as to how you would like to be handled, kept or be treated, I am probably not for you. Submission derives from to submit! This essentially means that you follow and submit to Me and I decide where and how I am going to submit you. Being a slave, means to give up ones free will and give up his or her freedom. Eventhough this is in the BDSM way of life and completely voluntary, it does still mean that I get to kick you out to the curbes if you don't uphold our agreement. In other words, we've made a deal. You become my slave and I get to do with you however I please and you get nothing in return. Your reward lies in being My slave. Then a footnote for some nutcase I came across who felt he needed to fill my mailbox with his pedantic little finger. Nobody is forcing you to send me a message, nobody is telling you or forcing you to become my slave (it is a privilage and certainly not one for you to receive). A footnote in general: I literally receive 30 emails an hour. I am not at your disposal, but those who are chosen by me are at my disposal! Very important difference. This means that I will not respond when and how it suits you, but if and when it suits Me! That will do for now. If you reach out, either be polite or f*** off!  To all others, it is fun getting acquainted with you and talk to y'all soon. Greetings Mrs B.

6:00 me: Should I take a nap? It's kinda late. Maybe I should just power through... ... 6:03 me: Okay, a quick nap. The puppy will wake me up. ... ... And she did. At 9:00. So that is why I baked a cake and cleaned the kitchen at midnight.  She woke me barking like mad at the noise outside. She is the nosiest of neighbors. I even bought her an ottoman and set it near the window, though in truth it's also for my benefit so she'll stop ruining the pillows on the chair she has claimed as her lookout spot. Does she use the ottoman? Of course not. It's now after 1. I'm awake. I need to be up in five hours, bribe her to eat, pack, not forget the stuff in the fridge, and get on the road. Chances of me being on time? Place your bets. 

    February 12th, 2022   Pantyhose guy came over today. He has pretty much given himself the nickname, because he loves the feeling of being in pantyhose.  I'm not really into him wearing them during a visit and he respaspects that.   He's visited a few times before. But today was a little different. Today he decided to suck cock for the first time. He might have had a taste or two before, but today he got the full treatment.   Because he reads my stories, he knew when he walked in the house to strip naked. I don't even think I had to tell him. He just stripped off his clothes immediately. Although it did not come as a surprise, his tiny cock was trapped in a beautiful black cock cage.    He was very nervous, and he shared this information in text messages before his arrival.  So instead of giving him a chance to think it over, and maybe change his mind, we headed straight upstairs.   I had just gotten out of the shower, still a little damp, wearing nothing but jogging pants. When we got upstairs I stripped out of the jogging pants and laid on my back in bed. From text messages we had shared earlier in the day he knew that's what was going to happen. I was going to let him go at his pace, for his first time of sucking cock.   He was nervous and stood next to the bed naked for a few minutes, until eventually he asked what he should do. I scooted up in the bed a bit and told him to climb in from the bottom and start to suck my cock. Knowing he was nervous, I kept my cock soft, but as his mouth surrounded my cock it was wonderful.  Not just the fact that my cock was the first cock that was going to get hard in his mouth, but it felt warm and wet and wonderful.   Instead of laying flat on the on his stomach, like the boy in my previous story (the boy with his hands tied behind his back) pantyhose guy was on his knees leaning down toward my cock. This made the angle a little bit difficult but he was having no problems.  But even with the slightly difficult angle before long I could feel my cock starting to grow. I didn't want to force him into anything but I did lay my hands on the back of his head, feeling the rhythmic bouncing of his head on my cock.  Once or twice I grabbed a handful of hair and pushed him balls deep. I was surprised that he didn't gag.   As he continued to suck my cock, I reached down and started playing with one of his nipples. I started with a little pinch and then got a little more aggressive. Something about pinching his nipple put my cock on fire. I could feel my cock getting even harder than it was just a few moments ago. He didn't resist, he didn't complain, he just let me play with his nipple.   After he had sucked cock for a while, I told him we were going to change positions. Instead of both of us being parallel to the length of the bed, I laid at an diagonal and he positions himself perpendicular to the bed. This gave me access to his ass with my fingers, while still giving his mouth access to my cock.   He brought his own silicone lube and I poured some onto the fingers of my left hand. He leaned forward and started sucking my cock again, pushing his ass up into the air. As my fingers found their way to his hole, I was met with another nice surprise.  I felt a butt plug in place. I started to pull and tug on the butt plug and there was quite a bit of resistance. It started popping out of his ass but it did not release completely. I learned it was a multi-layered bubble butt plug with two big bubbles/balls. The first ball came out followed slowly by the second. It was either glass or clear acrylic, very large, and I knew it was leaving an empty space in his hole.   I sat it on the back of the bed, and soon my fingers found his gaping hole.  One finger slid in with absolutely no resistance, so quickly two fingers went into his ass. As he continued sucking on my cock I found his prostate and started massaging it.  He started to moan. Since my cock was in his mouth I could feel the vibrations of the moan penetrating my cock.   With my left hand on his ass and my fingers in his hole, my right hand rested on the back of his head or neck occasionally pushing him deep under my cock. Once or twice he came off my cock and said It felt so great he was afraid he was going to orgasm. So we would take a bit of a breather. I would pull my fingers out of his ass but he would continue to suck my cock.    We did this for quite a while, and at one point he said his jaw was starting to ache.  I knew why he had come for a visit. He wanted my cock in his hole and my seed deep in his ass.   From the discussions we had earlier while texting I didn't know how much time he had, but I knew I was ready to fuck him. So I told him it was time. He questioned if we were rushing, I'm not sure if he was enjoying the cock sucking and me playing with his ass or if he was thinking of backing out. I decided not to take the chance.  I told him it was time to get fucked.   I climbed off the bed as he pushed his ass higher into the air. I climbed on the bed behind him, my left foot flat on the bed with my bent knee. My right foot and leg hooked around his right leg to hold him up and to keep him from dropping away from me.   My cock found its target, and plunged in balls deep first try. The toy that had been in his ass was so large, he was so opened up, he didn't even g.  But he was definitely not loose, his ass was tight around my cock.  Oh my God it felt wonderful.  I twisted my right knee on top of his back, somehow keeping my right foot locked in place so he couldn't get away.  In this perpendicular position our bodies were almost forming a "T."   This gave me the absolute maximum depth in his ass that I could have. I varried my rhythm going from slow to fast. Sometimes pulling completely out and plunging back in. Sometimes just popping the head of my cock in and out. Sometimes working full length without pulling out completely. His head was down on the pillow where it should be, his ass in the air. At times I felt him rhythmically push back as if to force his ass to swallow more of my cock.   The sensation was incredible, plus from my view it was a hot sight to see. His ass up, his head down, occasionally I would lean forward and put my hand against the back of his head and push him into the pillow. I probably only lasted about 10 minutes, and during that time I thought of everything including work, my broken snowblower, and things on my to-do list... but it didn't help, it was all too exciting.   Then I made my fatal mistake. I flipped my right foot onto the back of his neck pushing him down into the pillow with much of my weight. Psychologically there is something about me being dominant and doing this to a submissive that pushes me over the edge. And that is exactly what it did. My bad, LOL.   Soon I told him that I was going to be flooding his ass with my cum.   I pumped another dozen or so times and then felt my cum pulsing out of my cock. Filling his ass with my orgasm. I was staying hard so I continued fucking him. I moved my leg back to the bed pinning him against me, sometimes brutally thrusting into him. Eventually I was exhausted and had to pull out.   We reinserted the glass toy into his hole so none of my seed would

I want a dominate woman to take me under her wing. To feminize and transform me into a full woman. I mean learn how to sit, walk, talk, think,...... everything. But to also transform me physically as well. Hormones, body contouring, breast implants, FFS and finally SRS.To transform me into a woman so much that no one would know that I was EVER a male.

It is important to know that while I am seeking, finding and sharing, My time is not My own and I can and will only continue to engage those who understand and accept these circumstances for what they are - limited. I am a full time caregiver.  Not part time, not some time, not the times I choose.  I have minimal pockets of time, not of My own, when I am able to engage those who wish to be a part of My family and household and life.  Once you are here and serving, we are full time engaging and living these moments together. It's tough.  I get it - BELIEVE Me.  However it does not change that your position is to make yourself available to Me at MY times of availability.  This will not be a hurried process, nor will it be slow, but I am not free to just get up and do the hokey pokey any ole time! If you wish to be considered, at least have the ability share when I am available and understand that when My charge is unwell, everything goes full stop for about two weeks while I nurse and care for MYSELF and My charge. Just a little information for those who have no clue about Alzheimer's I've included some information below. -Any trauma to the head:  1. letter from the IRS or arguement, 2. head cold, COVID, headache, 3. head hit on the corner of the t.v., fall off a bar stool, slip on ice - these are all significant, affect the head, and depending on the intensity and duration of the impact, determines how long it will take to recover. https://www.alz.org/help-support/resources/care-education-resources For those who care, Mum had covid and is doing much better.  It will be another week or so for full recovery - and yes, I am relatively okay, considering. A grateful thank you to those men who continue to display great character and worth to Me and in turn, to Mum.  There is one who continues to provide strength on the most darkest of days. 

Hmm...  a journal entry, eh?  Not quite sure what to say here... or even if this thing works.  Let alone if anyone out there will read this.   Let's just start with a basic confession: I love sex, and I like it rough.  I have had fantasies about being raped ever since I a girl.  Of course back then, those fantasies were pretty tame.  Mostly being captured by a villian who would tie me up and keep me in his dungeon where he would, G, try to kiss me!  As I got older the fantasies became...  how say I say it..  more graphic...  The more I think about it, the more I realize that my rape fantasies pretty much follow a basic pattern: I'm out and about...  It's night...  I'm alone...   and I find myself in a bad situation...  and then one or more (usually more) tough looking guys show up and start getting into my person space, then they start trash talking and insulting me, then they start touching me and pushing me around.  Naturally I resist and try to get away, I usually am able to run away for a bit then they catch me again.  after that, they usually rip off all my clothes, hold me down, and have there way with me...  The specific details change, but that's the basic formula...    We'll see who reads this... Catch ya later, subMeghan

The grass is greener on the other side. Met someone normal from this site. Both very busy working professionals but seem to be orbiting which is not a bad thing just waiting to align a little. Meeting someone normal makes you look at this site a little differently. Your not dissappointed by the odd time waster because your time has no longer been wasted. Your hopeful about a possible relationship now being closer to one that might have some sort of functionality in a modern busy working professionals relationship. Makes you not want to advertise your vexes with the site but merely observe and let not affect you anymore.   - The grass is greener on the other side.

If your profile pic is your crotch or your butt, from any angle, clothed or not, lingerie or not, chastity or not, I will "Hide" your profile from view. I do not want to be introduced to a crotch or a butt. If your profile pic is a bathroom mirror nude body shot, I likely will not look further. Why would I want to get to know somebody with so little sense of aesthetics, so little willingness to put in a bit of effort, so little imagination? A profile avatar is your introduction, your first hand-shake, not a place to bare your all. Even on a kink site, we are people first. Kinky does not mean a total lack of class or style or courtesy. A profile avatar does not have to be a face pic, it doesn't even have to be you, it just has to show something interesting about you. A hobby, a pet, a silhouette of you against a sunset, a photo you took and love. If your body doesn't belong in a fashion magazine, don't expect it to be interesting to potential partners as a first introduction. Bodies become much more attractive for many women when we get to know the person first. We are looking for more than bodies. Show us a WHOLE PERSON. That goes for the body of the profile, too. Show us a whole person, not another horny porn-fed online wannabe without a clue. Show you know what you are talking about outside of porn, which is NOT educational. Be a real, interesting, knowledgable person. Or do please write to somebody else.

Realy excited about Victorian lifestyle / Era as in this lifestyle, we are were expected to adhere to strict standards of propriety and modesty. We are expected to be submissive to our husbands and fathers, and to prioritize their domestic duties over any other pursuits. Women were not seen as equal to men. In a Victorian marriage, a wife was expected to be obedient to her husband and to support him in all of his endeavors. She was also expected to manage the household, including caring for the children and running the household finances. A wife was expected to be loyal to her husband, and to maintain a façade of respectability and propriety in all interactions with others. In the Victorian era, a wife was expected to have a number of duties and responsibilities. These included managing the household, caring for the children, and supporting her husband in his endeavors. One of a wife's primary duties was to manage the household. This included overseeing the cooking, cleaning, and other domestic tasks. A wife was also expected to manage the household finances, which involved paying the bills and keeping track of the family budget. In addition to managing the household, a wife was also responsible for caring for the children. This included feeding, bathing, and dressing the children, as well as supervising their education and moral upbringing. Finally, a wife was expected to support her husband in his endeavors. This could include attending social events with him, providing emotional support, and helping him with his work if necessary. Overall, a wife in the Victorian era was expected to fulfill a range of duties and responsibilities in order to support her husband and maintain a happy and well-run household.

+ NRA Bans Firearms During Donald Trump's Speech at Texas Event   BY ANDERS ANGLESEY ON 5/25/22 AT 7:51 AM EDT       The National Rifle Association (NRA) told attendees they will not be able to carry firearms during an event with former President Donald Trump at its Texas conference that will be held just days after a deadly mass shooting at an elementary school in the state.   On its website, the pro-gun organization declared that people would not be able to bring their firearms into the General Assembly Hall during its upcoming Annual Leadership Forum in Houston on Friday, May 27. In a notice, the NRA said firearms, toy guns and "weapons of any kind" would not be allowed inside the hall. It also listed several other items, such as laser pointers and signs among things that were prohibited.   The NRA described its annual leadership forum as being "one of the most politically significant and popular events in the country." But a shadow has been cast over the conference after 19 children and two adults were fatally shot at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas on Tuesday.     (more)       https://www.newsweek.com/nra-bans-firearms-during-donald-trumps-speech-texas-event-1709957#Echobox=1653480476

Random ficlet: I gleefully stood, naked, and allowed my my hands to be bound together by a man who I knew wanted nothing more than to devour me. I grinned in anticipation as he guided my bound hands above my head and looped to tail of the rope through a chain hanging from the rafters above us. Once the rope was looped through the chain, I noticed him smirk as he pulled the rope tight and my arms were stretched further over my head until I had to rest mostly on the balls of my feet, leaving me in an unsteady stance.   I was so wet that I felt like my slick was dripping down my thighs and my pussy was clenching in anticipation and nervousness. I couldn't help but shift around in my eagerness and groaned as I felt my naked thighs sliding wetly against each each other as my pussy practically drips with want.    My eyes were wide as you faced me and pulled my right leg up to expose my pussy. You clutched your throbbing dick in your hand. I felt you take a moment to rub your cock along my wet slit, I hear you groan when your dick meets the warm and wet folds of my pussy lips. I feel your grip on my thigh tighten right as you slide your dick easily into my wet, slutty hole.   I groaned, and before I even had time to register the intrusion, you were pumping into me, eager to feel more of my slick, clenching hole.   This didn't last long, though, as it wasn't nearly all that you wanted. You pulled out, much to my displeasure, my pussy was throbbing and needed much more. I saw you retrieve the leather belt from your discard pants and knew my ass and thighs were about to be on fire and I shuddered in a combination of trepidation and want.   I watched you loop the belt in half and pull it taught, making the leather snap delightfully. When our eyes met, I watched your face turn predatory when you met my playful and challenging look. I grinned, and hoping to sound more confident than I was in that moment, I looked up at you said "Do not bore me.”   I watched as you shook your head and gave me a sly grin as you casually walked behind me. I heard your shifting movements, so the crack of the belt on my ass didn't come as a surprise, but the intensity was.   Normally I have to coax a man into being comfortable taking what he wants, I habitually challenge Doms, as it's the only way I can get close to what I need. I often end up still feeling like im in charge and having to teach someone to be a Dom.    The cocky challenge to not bore me wasn't needed here. I shrieked and rose up on my toes at the HARD initial strike. Before I even had time to process the pain, you were in front of me and grasping my face in your hand, fingers and thumb digging into my cheeks and forcing me to look up at you.   "I'm going to whip you until you cry, and then I'm going to keep whipping you until you can't hold yourself up anymore and are begging me.."   While you were talking, you forced two fingers into my mouth while holding my face still, clearly making a point. You pushed them in until I gagged and held them there while I tried to keep from dry heaving   "Pleading with me to breed you like a desperate bitch in heat..."  

Looks like I’ll be in Tennessee on 9/9-9/17 for work.Interested check out my BIO all welcome.

20250107 It's a shame I even have to say this but unfortunately, I do! I will not chat with anyone unless I see pictures of them. I've been contacted by so many who claim they want to live 24/7, completely owned, and can't wait to start the process! I chat with these individuals and give them tasks or challenges to see how serious their interests are and suddenly I no longer hear from them anymore. Below are some of the questions I'm regularly asked, along with my answers. How far would you take my transformation? I'd take it as far as I can, including surgery. What would my duties be as your slave? Your duties would be serving me domestically, sexually, and following my orders. Would I be collared and/or branded? Yes, you will be collared once you have completed training.

I was asked about the history of M/s in the U.S. so I put together this paper for my class that I teach. As many of you know, I teach classes about our lifestyle. Consensual Master/slave (M/s) relationships form a distinctive branch of the larger BDSM world, built on explicit consent and mutual trust rather than coercion. Though the language echoes the United States’ painful legacy of slavery, within this context “slave” refers to a self-chosen role in which adults negotiate the terms of authority, service, and the freedom to leave at any time. Tracing the history of these relationships reveals a story of gradual emergence from secrecy to visibility and of a community that continually refines its ethical principles. Long before the term BDSM existed, underground currents of erotic power exchange ran through American life. In the nineteenth century, small “flagellation societies” and clandestine magazines catered to people fascinated by ritualized dominance and discipline. Early-twentieth-century fetish photography and private clubs in cities like New York and Chicago hinted at a subculture that could not yet show itself openly, constrained by strict obscenity laws and the threat of arrest. After World War II, a more public foundation appeared. Returning veterans formed motorcycle clubs and gay leather bars, creating what became known as leather culture. These spaces celebrated hierarchy, uniforms, and protocol—values familiar to men who had served in the military and who now sought camaraderie and structured erotic play. San Francisco’s South of Market district, Chicago’s Gold Coast bar, and New York’s Greenwich Village all nurtured this emerging aesthetic. While not every leather relationship was explicitly Master/slave, the emphasis on ritual service and clearly defined roles foreshadowed the dynamics to come. The social upheavals of the 1960s and 1970s brought the first real stirrings of public organization. In 1971 the Eulenspiegel Society, or TES, was founded in New York as an educational and social group for people interested in consensual BDSM. TES meetings offered a rare safe space to discuss negotiation, service, and authority exchange. At the same time the gay liberation movement and the post-Stonewall push for visibility encouraged practitioners to speak more openly, while feminist debates over sexuality and power sharpened the community’s thinking about agency and consent. It was during this era that the term “Master/slave” began to be used more deliberately to describe ongoing power-exchange relationships rather than isolated encounters. Through the 1980s and 1990s the community expanded and codified its ethics. The principles of “Safe, Sane, and Consensual” became a rallying cry, soon joined by the idea of “Risk-Aware Consensual Kink,” which acknowledged that all play carries some danger if undertaken without careful negotiation. National gatherings such as Living in Leather and organizations like the National Leather Association connected practitioners across genders and orientations. Amid the HIV/AIDS crisis, leather and M/s groups became hubs of health education and mutual support. Competitions such as International Mr. Leather made formal presentations of Master/slave relationships more visible, and writers like Guy Baldwin explored the psychology of dominance and submission in influential essays and books. The arrival of the internet around the turn of the millennium transformed everything again. Email lists, online forums, and later social networks such as FetLife allowed people in small towns or conservative regions to find community, share protocols, and even post detailed M/s contracts. Education went global as conferences could draw participants from every region. Meanwhile, mainstream attention—from documentaries to the runaway success of Fifty Shades of Grey—brought BDSM into living rooms and office break rooms, if often in sensational or inaccurate ways. Academic researchers began publishing peer-reviewed studies that showed consensual power exchange could be compatible with psychological health and relationship satisfaction. Today’s M/s community in the United States is strikingly diverse. Participants span every gender, orientation, and cultural background. Annual gatherings such as the Master/slave Conference in Washington, D.C., offer advanced classes on negotiation, long-term dynamics, and the philosophy of service and ownership. Many households create written agreements spelling out duties, limits, and the right to revoke consent, underscoring that autonomy remains central even within total-power dynamics. Yet the term “slave” still prompts careful reflection. Some prefer alternatives like “property” or “servant,” while others reclaim the word as a conscious statement of agency. This ongoing conversation shows how the community remains attentive to the country’s history of chattel slavery and the need for language that honors both freedom and responsibility.  From clandestine nineteenth-century societies to today’s internet-connected conferences, the evolution of consensual Master/slave relationships in the United States is a story of people turning hierarchy into intimacy. Over more than a century, practitioners have built a culture grounded in negotiation, education, and mutual respect. Far from re-enacting oppression, these relationships transform the language of mastery and service into a chosen path of trust, discipline, and personal liberation.

As we stand at the threshold between years, there is a natural pause that invites reflection. The closing of 2025 is not merely the turning of a calendar page—it is a moment to breathe, to remember, and to take stock of who we were, what we endured, and how we grew. 2025 was a year that asked much of us. It was not a year defined by a single event or headline, but by accumulation—of effort, of resilience, of quiet victories and hard lessons. It was a year that reminded us that progress is rarely loud, and strength is often forged in silence. For many, 2025 began with hope tempered by realism. The world continued to navigate uncertainty—economic shifts, global tensions, evolving technologies, and changing social landscapes. We were asked to adapt yet again, to rethink how we work, how we connect, and how we care for one another. And while adaptation can be exhausting, it is also proof of endurance. We are still here. This past year reminded us that stability is not guaranteed, but neither is despair. Even in moments of strain, communities showed up. Neighbors helped neighbors. Families reconnected. Friends checked in when it mattered most. In ways both big and small, people chose compassion over indifference—and that choice matters more than we often realize. 2025 also challenged our understanding of time. It moved quickly and slowly all at once. Weeks red together, yet certain moments stand crystal clear: a conversation that changed us, a loss that reshaped us, a success that reminded us of our own capability. These moments form the true record of a year—not the dates, but the meaning we attach to them. For some, 2025 brought achievement—goals reached, milestones earned, dreams realized after years of effort. For others, it brought disappointment, delay, or grie

I’m funny, strong, sick and alone. I wear a sold-thick mask. Only i choose who will get to see my truth and when. Today and tonight are hard. I don’t like where I am or how I am. I feel desperate for dick for a, tongue even teeth. My neck is naked and breasts - nipples are tingling . Even fat there are places you can feel bones. My ass is high and wide easy to spread and enter. Go slow so we both feel you break through that first sphincter- oh so good, you’ll decide when to do that again. The feeling is pleasure but also demonstrates your power over me. Put me on my belly, lay me on my back, cl my hands and ride me like I’m a horse- hold me down whisper into my ear, bite my skin and enjoy me, long and hard, mmmm. By now my cunt has created a puddle of my juices. Lips are wide gapping open waiting to be entered, i moan as you hit my back wall and I clench as i cum and again. You hit my crevicx, oh my breath pushes out of me. I am cuming again and again. Vagina spasms over and over. I clench down and hold you. You look confused, i laugh and let you go. You turn me over and we kiss passionately you reach up and put a hand on my throat, a bit harder as i slip into subspace. You let go, my eyes are glassy and I smile slowly and quietly.  Mmm i pur. You turn me on my side, you insert a dildo into one hole and yourself into the other, fuck me until you cum - you stay a minute and the cum slides out of me as you do. We sleep facing and touching each other. What do you think?

Hey everyone!  subMeghan here... As always, as required by my dom, I need to announce to you all that as I type this I am naked wearing only my dog collar... Just a quick journal entry.  My dom and I just finished an awesome puppygirl session and I have been informed that I was was a very good girl!  Yay!  Now my dom has decided to reward me and is using a vibrator on me right now.. He thinks it would be funny to watch me try and type as he is pleasuring my pusssy. However, he said I can't cum until I finish this journal.  He is watching me type this and laughing at me.  Good thing I have spell check!  Ha!  I am not allowed to speak to him, if I want to say something to him I must type it here. My dom says to tell you if I'm a horney slut.  Yes, I am a horney slut!  Please my I come? He says not yet.  Damn!  he has turned up vibrator. he knows what i like/  He says type louder.  OK, I AM SUBMEGHAN I WANT EVERYONE TO KNOW THAT I AM A SUPER HORNEY SLUT!  PLEASE MAY I COME NOW, SIR!!!!!! nO?!?!  WTF!  pLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I WANT TO CUM SIR111 ok.  yes sir i'll say that, then can i cum?  my dom says show everyone that your a dumnb cunt and bark like a fuckng dog.  WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!  STUPID SUBMEGAN IS DOG!!!! i am barking thank god, ge says i can come after i say goodbye.   bye

It is only by enlarging the scope of one’s tastes and one’s fantasies, by sacrificing everything to pleasure, that the unfortunate individual called Man, thrown despite himself into this sad world, can succeed in gathering a few roses among life’s thorns” D.A.F. Marquis de Sade

Master's WritingsCategorizing Levels of SubmissionOthers, in an attempt to categorize submissives, have described submissives by the levels of their submission, moving from role play to slave, while others suggest there are distinct categories of submission, where the motivation behind one’s submission drives their role such as for fantasy, relationship and/or fetish. Acknowledging that all submissives are different and any such categories could only apply in the loosest of terms, I find both model instructive in its own way, yet somehow missing the mark in some aspaspects.The creators of both models clearly identified that each individual submissive is unique and comes to their submission and depth of submission in their own way for their own purpose. And to this, I completely agree. Yet we are humans and we live to label things, so I will offer my own model, recognizing full well that mine too will fall short of describing all submissives and their motivations. I would also note that what I suggest here may have already been put forth. If so, I offer this only as my own ideas without the knowledge of their contribution to our body of knowledge. Thus I would offer a third model for consideration and discussion.I see it more a kin to the structure of Maslow‘s hierarchy of needs, Where Maslow identifies our most basic needs, moving from basic survival to self-actualization, I see submissions moving from role play to self-realization. The model I put forth is as follows:     Role play. A connection to the role based on whatever preconceptions or second hand knowledge they may have. While one might act the part, they have no emotional or mental connection to the role.     Exploration. The beginning stages of submissive awareness where thru trial and error or training, real experiences begin the development of a connection to a submissive’s awareness and one's submissive self. This level usually includes an over indulgence or over compensation of doing what they think a sub "should do".     Connection. The birth of inner connectedness to one’s submissive self, and the realization of what it feels like to give of one’s self to another. Hallmarked by a greater sense of self awareness, a growing identity as a submissive and a struggling to reconcile their submissive life with their vanilla life.     Identity and Belonging. The inner awareness and shift of self-identity as a submissive or having submissive side (as in a switch), as a genuine and acknowledged part of their persona. While they may not share this openly with others, inwardly there is a growing conviction that being a submissive is core to their being. While connection can occur at any stage, at this stage, connection to a Dominant becomes more essential to allow for further growth.     Confidence. As identity as a submissive grows and self-esteem relating to the role increases, their confidence of self grows. The focus can now be more inward to understand their submissive needs, who they are as a submissive, and the beginning of blending their submissive self into their vanilla life and identity.     Self-Realization and Connectedness to their Id. Full acceptance of their new identity, as submission is fully integrated into their sense of self. Submission can now fuel their lives and relationships with greater meaning and richer experiences as they fully integrate their submissive-self into their vanilla life. Not every submissive will reach or choose to reach this level. I would welcome comments and ideas for the improvement of this model if others see value in it. 

Or "why aren't women turned on by my lingerie pictures?"  I get that some guys are into wearing dresses. I can often enjoy pictures of guys in dresses, depending on the guy, and the dress, and the overall look, and the makeup, etc. And some enjoy wearing cute ruffle covered pink dresses that look a lot like birthday cakes. You know, the kind that toddler girls are put in for Easter Sunday. And some guys enjoy wearing lingerie, or makeup, or rubber... I can often enjoy pictures like that, again, depending on the guy, their choice of lingerie, the presentation, and so on. Some guys like wearing big frilly lacy lingerie like you'd see a 'sexpot' femme wearing in an old porn movie. While they kinda sit hunched on a rumpled bed, legs sprawled awkwardly, legs unshaved, on the dirty duvet, with their dirty laundry in the background. And that isn't necessarily a bad thing. The problem is, they want US to look at them like that, and get turned on. Usually because they get turned on wearing it. Which is great. More power to them. But as I've written before - Know Thy Target Market. And make the effort to find out what sells, and why.  You can put a cold naked hot dog on a paper plate, and take a picture of it. If someone is already hungry right then, and they really like hot dogs, maybe they will think 'yeah, I could do that.' If you want to get the attention of someone who might not be hungry, or might not usually eat hot dogs, you'll need to find out what they like, and try to tailor that image to their interest. Maybe they would like hot dogs chopped up in chili. Maybe they are more into the classics, and want to see a sizzling hot dog with the little burn lines cradled in a fluffy golden bun, teased with wavy lines of ketchup and mustard, with just a tiny dot of relish peeking out underneath. Maybe you need to pair that with thick, steakcut fries sprinkled with seasonings and cheese. Or maybe they only like corndogs. Maybe a lot of things. But without some market research, you're spending your time and money on hotdogs, trying to guess what will interest people, and mostly, your safest bet is going to be going with the most common image, probably the 'classic' version, and even then, the production value needs to be as high as possible, because hot dogs are plentiful and cheap. You gonna have to dress that up REALLY well to make it anything other than a simple tube of processed meat. Not to put too fine a point on it.  Now, maybe you are one of those rare few who is completely disinterested in anything other than one specific kind of hot dog lover. That's the ONLY kind of person you want to talk to or sell to- the one that likes them sliced thin, frozen and alternated with pickled beets. Again, more power to you. However, you need to recognize that you are going to search a lot longer, possibly forever, and you'll get a lot fewer potential buyers, and even then, lots of those will be potential duds, because lots of people are willing to say 'yeah! I love that too!' to anything that gets them closer to any kind of meal, and honestly, they'd dive into cold cereal if that's what they found, because they are starving, and it's better than nothing.  If you are NOT one of those people, and you like hot dogs, but you also have hamburgers, and chili, and maybe pie too, then you want to put all that out there. You want your first impression to be one mostly likely to get interest. Maybe your initial pic should be whatever you like that is the most common, then have other pics showing your other great offerings. And again, with high quality photos, of more than just the hot dog - how about people enjoying the hot dogs? How about a lovely buffet, all laid out with what you offer, once they've been drawn in by that great first picture that was well designed, showcased your best quality in the best way, with good lighting, good preparation, polished and pretty and enticing?  I get that no one wants to pretend to be something they aren't. Especially here - here is a place to express one's self fully, hopefully without judgement, and seek others of similar interests, and hopefully find someone with whom to engage in those interests in real time. And I get that there are things we each enjoy, and we really really really want to have someone appreciate those things in us, about us. But if you are seeking, you need to seek in an effective manner, which means taking into account the interests of those we are looking to attract, and what attracts THEM. You need to find out WHY they are attracted to some things more than others. You need to CARE what they care about, if only so you can find out early if their interests align with yours. And also so you can more easily appeal to people who are interested in what you have to offer.  Even if it turns out you are just a plain hot dog on a naked paper plate, you need to at least make sure you get the best picture you can possibly take - in focus, at a good angle, clean, no roaches in the background, etc. If that's all you really want to put out there, but you want someone to admire it, then you're going to have to show it in its best light. You'll have to make an effort. And you'll have to accept that it may not sell right away. Sometimes, it's worth adding to your offering. Learning a little about what your target audience wants, and then finding out how to offer that. Maybe grow a bit, and become MORE than just a hot dog on a paper plate. Hell, you might be steak and not even know it. Isn't it worth trying?

Ladies...You are welcome and encouraged to apply if you are honest and can obey.  This is a real home and a safe harbor.   I am not personally interested in women sexually, however I am not entirely adverse to the idea of shared intimacy with time.  Mainly, women have entirely unique qualities they bring to a home and to service which I can and do appreciate.  I respond well to women who are straightforward and even a bit tomboyish. On another note.... Some of you gents are real doozies.  The up side is that this has made way for some amazing men to move front and center.  You know who you are - you delight Me and inspire Me and your supportive nature and devotion make all the difference to Me and inturn to Mum.  Thank you. Further.... I see a foot slave...toilet slave...a humiliation slave, lets get real for a moment.  While I appreciate you all have your specialties and preferences, I have to wonder where are all the administrative slaves, the bookkeeping slaves, and refinishing slaves? lol  I'm looking for My own personal TEAM!  Trust in Me when I say, you will be a creative lot and busy busy bees!    

It´s really funny what kind of user are here. Many of the user used the words reliable, serious, etc. but by the most is this bullshit.Very interesting is that many user who have photos with a nice body (muscled or athletic) are not able for a live skype check. And when you ask them why or when they will be able they block you. Come on, leave to call yourself slave. You are not ! A real slave never habit like that by a master ! You are a shame for all REAL slaves.I have no problem when somebody tell me he is not interested because I am not his type or for with reason ever, but not to answer or to play games is unacceptable and is an insult to every true slave

Guys, women are not looking for disembodied body parts. Your abdomen alone in a mirror shot is NOT sexy. No matter how ripped, it's just a random body part. Posting random body parts just shows that you have not bothered to read or listen to anything women have ever said about what they want. We look for a PERSON. Not a body. Certainly not an isolated body part. Any body parts. Especially dicks. Body parts on their own without a personality attached are almost exclusively a GUY THING. No, posting a body part is not "full disclosure." We did not ASK for a body part. If that's your avatar, most likely any woman will just click past it. You're killing yourself just by choosing a bad pic instead of showing some personality. We aren't passing you by because you have a belly, we're passing you by because you seem to think that's the most important aspect of you. That would make us as shallow as you are. Once again, act like a whole person. Not a generic title for a nickname, a generic body part for a picture, and a generic request for what you've seen in porn as a relationship. Grow up.

Here is something I wrote a long time ago for a web site called RLSlavery ( That no longer exists) Why is It So Hard to Find True M/s Poly Members? In the world of BDSM and kink, finding like-minded individuals can be a challenge. Many people are looking for a specific type of relationship, such as a Master/slave (M/s) dynamic with a polyamorous twist. But why is it so hard to find true M/s poly members? In this article, we'll explore some of the reasons why finding genuine M/s poly partners can be difficult, as well as offer some tips for those who are searching. The Stigma of BDSM First and foremost, the stigma surrounding BDSM and kink can make it difficult for people to openly express their desires and find partners who share those desires. BDSM has long been associated with deviant behavior and taboo practices, and many people still view it as something shameful or perverse. This stigma can make it challenging for people who are interested in BDSM to find partners who are open to exploring this lifestyle with them. Even within the kink community, people may be hesitant to openly discuss their desires, which can make it difficult to find like-minded individuals. Limited Pool of Potential Partners Even within the BDSM and kink community, the pool of potential partners who are interested in a specific type of relationship, such as M/s poly, can be quite limited. While there are certainly many individuals who are interested in kink and BDSM, not everyone is interested in exploring the same dynamics or relationship structures. As a result, finding someone who is interested in the same type of relationship as you can be a challenge. This is particularly true for those who are interested in less common or niche dynamics, such as M/s poly. Lack of Clear Communication Another reason why finding true M/s poly members can be difficult is the lack of clear communication between potential partners. When exploring a BDSM or kink relationship, it's important to have open and honest communication about desires, boundaries, and expectations. Unfortunately, many people are not skilled at communicating their needs and desires effectively. This can lead to misunderstandings, hurt feelings, and relationship breakdowns. Without clear communication, it can be difficult to establish the kind of trust and intimacy necessary for a successful M/s poly dynamic. Fear of Rejection For many people, the fear of rejection is a significant barrier to finding a suitable partner. This is particularly true for those who are interested in niche or less common relationship dynamics, as they may worry that they will be unable to find someone who shares their interests. This fear of rejection can lead some people to avoid seeking out potential partners altogether, which can make it even harder to find a compatible match. It's important to remember that rejection is a natural part of the dating process, and that it's okay to put yourself out there and take a chance. Tips for Finding True M/s Poly Members While finding genuine M/s poly partners can be a challenge, there are some things you can do to increase your chances of success. Here are a few tips to keep in mind: Be Open and Honest: When seeking out potential partners, it's important to be open and honest about your desires and expectations. This can help weed out individuals who are not interested in the same type of dynamic, and increase your chances of finding a compatible match. Attend Kink Events: Attending local kink events and meetups can be a great way to connect with like-minded individuals in your area. These events offer a safe and supportive space to explore your desires, and can be a great way to meet potential partners.   MasterG

Orlando continues to have a markedly high number of HIV diagnoses, much like Florida as a whole, and the area is struggling to get care for those who need it, according to newly released analyses of 2021 data. That year, 618 people in metro Orlando were diagnosed with the human immunodeficiency virus, which can cause AIDS, bringing the total number of HIV-diagnosed people in the metro area to 14,298. Florida— with 5,000 new cases each year over the last decade — has among the nation’s highest rates of new diagnoses and hasn’t seen much of a decline even as the U.S. saw an 8% decrease over the last 10 years. Orlando’s rate of HIV-positive residents is higher than Florida’s average and almost double the national average, according to data released Nov. 14 on Aidsvu.org, which visualizes HIV’s impact using data from state and city health departments compiled by researchers at the Emory University  Take care of yourself. Don't be a statistic

So I'm at the gym today  I witness this tall white male with an extremely fit body in these light blue tights with a tiny tiny bulge it was giving squirrel nuts. Now that's not the issue! I watch him go and put all the weights he could find on to the leg press thingamajiig, and I mean it was filled to the rim (no pun intended) He lays flat on his back and lift the weights with his legs. Now here is where things got interesting. He just lifted the weight (that was obviously to heavy) one time and strained for at least 10 minutes. I mean not one single rep done. Veins popped out of his forehead and sweating like a hydrated crackhead. I asked my friend should I go ask him if he would like to come to my BDSM party because he must just enjoy pain 

Hello all,  Hope you dads are having a great day! Someone is suppose to come see me on Wednesday,  but I  forgot to write the name down. If you are reading this entry please get hold of me. You are a newbie. I have talked to so many since I  have talked with you. So get hold of me here.  

Im Back into feminization, tho it's a tough time and go of it. It's just I have always had this feeling of being born into the wrong gender. Don't get me wrong I'm all male. But I fantasize about what it would be like to be female.  Recently I have out my cock back into chastity. Which I consider my clit and i have purchased an anal diolatar set and have been training my asshole nownmy pussy to strech out. i also have a dilod that I use to penitetrae my pussy on and get use to building up the sensation and tolerance to the friction my pussy can take.  It's hard doing it solo and not having the motivation from another to keep training on a regular basis. Sometimes I hit a wall and don't feel like continuing. It makes me feel more feminine and sissy like. The end goal being only able to cum or orgasm through anal means. While still being locked in chasitity. Currently I'm on day 60 in chastiity and on my 3rd sized diolatar plug. Some times I fall asleep with it still inside me. 

Christmas '23, and what is it like ? I've mostly healed up. Added 4 yards of topsoil in front of my recently aquired home in Lacey. Planted a lot of bulbs. Mix of native wildflowers. And blueberries, raspberries, strawberries and grapes. My compost heap is better than yours, professionally managed by the songbirds lured there by the cleverly placed feeder. Cleared the path from the back gate to the bike trail. Blackberries are tough in this area, so that is a project to finish later, when I hope to add some cedar trees back there, and a lot of wildflowers. But it's mostly blackberry, now, and vines don't vanish when you cut them, that's just the start of the job. It's good to have a hobby. The neighbors have signed off on the new mailbox thing I want to make. Half whisky barrels, 2x2 cedar arbor, Wisteria or grapevines, undergrass irrigation, and a pair of big mailboxes.  My '80 Triumph convertable made it as far as the garage. Needs a lot of work. Old gasoline and 45 year old rubber, everywhere. It's cute, though, even if it bites my fingers every time I get a tool anywhere near it. 20 year old Ford spent 10 days at the dealer. Alternator, battery, the cable in between. Came back with belt squeek-eek-eek-eek. Which is really annoying because it's the loudest thing on the truck. Wonder if I can fix it. The tool shed has gone all electric, so the gasoline is now 'something I have to get rid of' where before it was an essential hazard to life & property that smells bad. The mower made me do it. It ran about half speed last time, and is too rusty to work on. An important part of the next dump run. And romance? Sadly, no. I blame the pandemic... Perhaps the new year in my new place doing my new thing will bring some relief. Perhaps my new, noticably smaller, trowser collection will help some. But what I really need to do is get out more. So, call me.

I'm almost certainly going to regret writing this, but it's come up a couple times now with potential play partners and maybe this will save me some time in the future. First: I'm a libertarian. What does this mean? The shortest definition I've been able to find is "I believe gay married couples should be able to defend their pot plants with machine guns." I also believe if government is the answer, the question was a smorgasbord of banality and despair. For those of you who know me, know what I do, and what I've done, you know I've found myself having to deal with confrontations from time to time. I don't want to hype this because I know there are plenty of you who've had to go much further into the quicksand of defusing conflict than I have, and are better at it. However, I have learned some things along the way. Most importantly, everything I've gotten from training and experience is that the way you produce positive change with people you disagree with is to look for the things you have in common and build on them. I don't care if it's a mutual hatred of Brussels Sprouts, it's a starting point. You may never get to a point where you like the other person (and that's fine), but in finding that common ground you're at least likely to walk away acknowledging your common humanity and not hating them. If you're seeking out the things you conflict on and using them as a justification for not engaging (or worse, starting a fight), you truly are part of the problem. No one is going to share your political beliefs down to the finest detail, and if you're dogmatic about it (right or left), you're going to find yourself alone. The really sad thing about this is that I promise you your political beliefs are the least interesting and most tedious part of who you are. People who live and breathe politics are like people who obsess over cars. I don't want to have an in-depth discussion with anyone on "the violence inherent in the system" or the great new exhaust note your car makes with straight pipes you put on. Lets see if we can find something interesting to talk about instead. This is a kink community. Your interest in bondage or S&M or your new latex catsuit is a much more intriguing conversation than how culpable the president is for gas prices.

Just a quick amused note here. I have a 'no Drump supporters, past or present' on my profile for a reason. I also have no smokers, no addicts, no cheaters, etc. The only group that feels it's important to send me hate filled messages are the Trumpers. Kinda confirms my views of you I've never met anyone from that side of things that wasn't hiding deep violent hate, or wasn't lacking the intellect to see the problems that are right there. It's not about him. It's about who you are that lets you be ok with him So yeah, send me threats and insults. Helps me sift out and block you faster.

Compelled  compelled to Dominate Men. No matter how much she tried, no matter what she wore, her mirror, overwhelmed her with Dominant Femininity. An aura of command perfumed the atmosphere. Exotic, clinging, rising upwards from her hips. Intoxicating any man foolish enough to look in her direction.   With greater frequency and intensity the Dominant Cravings filled her heart with glee.   Experience taught her that the less she cared about her object of submission, the greater her excitement and consequently her satisfaction.   By encasing the object in a leather or rubber hood, it became a flesh and blood pleasure unit. A thing to torture. A quivering, drooling, grunting and sweating thing. She panted with laughter at the thought of her wicked ideas becoming reality.   She had but to dial the phone to summon a pleasure unit. Satisfying to be sure, however, not nearly as much fun as putting a vanilla subject under her heel.  

switzerland is limited. by what? yes we have a healty system, good finances, gorgeous places, multicultural food and here its very clean. but our bdsm comunity is....small, only 2 principal places lausanne on the center switzerland and zurich on the north. most of the kinkster are spreaded around the country not knowing other ways than classified website. rare knows fetlife.. no one know website like this one. if youre lucky and do shibari or even soft bdsm you can find youre partner or even more. but if youre like me with a lot of kinks, more passionate, curious and creative, your unfortunate... you will need to be very pacient or...search outside... then the only way is to find person who can relocate themself, and this type of person are rare. because a lot want your money/scam, others prefer only online, or even you can find fantaisist person searching only to excite themself and when things turn real they stop. thats tiring and difficult to filter all this mess, ive been thinking for a long time but for me switzerland is not a good place for bdsm, theres a lot of countries better like USA, germany, france but only in paris, ive been thinking if asian country have better community too, like china, korea or even japan.   i hope someday i will find someone diversified like me to like a total lifestyle.

A day in service.   The morning light finds me on my knees, A feather duster clutched in my hand. My only garments are these metal pieces And leather tight about my neck, so branded.   The cage is cold, a constant, weighted shame, That shrivels what pathetic manhood grew. She watches from the doorway, lips aflame, With scorn for every single thing I do.   "That spot, you missed it, worthless little worm!" Her voice is acid, sharp and cutting clean. "A child could clean with less to be concerned, But you can't even function on the scene."   She points and laughs, a sound that cuts the air, "At what they've locked away in there, so small. It's more a keychain than a thing to spare, No wonder it doesn't function at all."   I scrub the floor, my back beginning to ache, Each movement jiggles my ridiculous cage. Another failure for her to mistake For evidence of my inadequate age.   "The baseboards, look! You've left a line of dust! My useless, tiny, disappointing toy. Is there one task that isn't built on rust? One single moment you don't disappoint?"   I finish, broken, kneeling at her feet, The house is clean, but I am still a mess. She clips a leash to my collar, a treat For being best at nothing, I confess.   "Good boy," she purrs, her hand upon my head, "At least you know your place, beneath my heel. Now rest your minuscule cock in bed, And let this empty, hollow feeling feel."

Shutting people out is confusing to me. It was one of the very first coping mechanisms I learned early in life, and it worked well. I used it often. Or, you know, all the time. By the time I learned it wasn't healthy it was too late. In the spirit of self-improvement I put effort into salvaging relationships when I could push past my initial reaction of shutting out, which wasn't often. Much more difficult for me and against every instinct I had. Those weren't always done in a healthy or whole way, either. Ignoring things instead of addressing them, having the other person react in the opposite way of what was expected. I struggled a lot with the what and the how. I still do. Only now, circling back to shutting people out, it's acceptable and encouraged in some instances. When the hell did that happen? How do you determine when it's the right move? After years of trying to undo the shutout it feels wrong. Right, but wrong. Like I've given up. Like I'm falling back on an isolating coping mechanism. Facts are facts and they may stack the deck for motive, but I can't help but feel like I'm the emotionally stunted person using her go-to move. I think about this a lot. Is it right? Or is it just easy? 

Part One    I have you in My grasps, under My complete control, you are sitting there collar and leashed bound, bending to My every wish… or you will be. My thought as I looked at the picture of the man I was about to meet for dinner.  I gave My attire a once over and checked My bag to make sure that I had everything for the night.  While walking out the door, I made a phone call to one of my friends that would be meeting up with me later.  Everything was set to go.    A breath taking beauty walked thought the doors at Blue Moon, A nice but private place. You had been talking to Me for a month now and could not believe your luck. This was going to be one of the best nights in your life or so you thought while I sat down.   We had a nice meal and a few drinks. The night was looking good for you or so you thought, While you left to go to the bath room, Islipped something into your drink to make it a little easier to get you to the house. You wake up in a dark room with a leather collar around your neck.  A black leash was hooked on to make sure that my new toy wouldn’t go anywhere.  Your hands bound with a spreader bar in the middle.  Feet shackled to the wall of My dungeon room.  With a crop, blindfold and CBT in My hand.  First things first I start to put on the cbt, but with no luck for you are too hard at the moment, so I started to take other matters in to hand.  I take My crop and start to slap it against your cock... Telling you to make me happy with letting me put this toy on.  And I dangle it in front of you… punishment for not doing so will be severe.  And you want to please your Mistress, right? I ask. No response from you.  “I’m not   happy”, I said.  And swat another hit to your cock… this time a little yelp came out.  “Do I have your attention, now”…. You answer with a strong but held back “yes Ma’am”.  “Now I told you that this needs to go on you, and you are not obeying me,

I'm going to use an anecdote to give a little insight about what I like. It may be a little long but bear with me. I had a Dom/friend, he's in Arkansas now, we met at a party & his then GF was yelling at him & he was yelling at her. Was ruining the vibe so I told her to go upstairs, and took him outside. Went up stairs, chatted with her: She didn't like him talking to other girls. Stupid nagging problems. Went downstairs. Talked to him out in the alley. He didn't like that she slept with his friends when she was mad at him. Which sort of ticked me off. Anyway we chatted and he gave me an out of the blue kiss. Then next day all day sucking/fucking. He liked playing the XBox while getting head. Watching porn and getting head. And having someone to rub his feet, his back. I told him his ex GF was a bitch & the worst kind - the one who sends pics of her fucking to him. He did love her and It made me want to please and make him feel special. I told him he could do whatever he wanted with me. He liked being complimented and thought of. I like his build & personality. He had some kinks like enjoying being rimmed, choking, verbal and I was always open for him when he needed to fuck. I liked it when he sat on my face and made me eat his ass while he relaxed and even when he put his foot in my mouth and had me worship his feet. I enjoyed him being at a desk with me under it, soft cock in my mouth. It'll grow until it was ready to fuck my face then after he came it'll rest in my mouth until he was ready again. We became pretty good friends. Discreet fuck buddies the entire time since the crazy Ex was still around & we both liked no one knowing our business. He moved out to AK closer to family but we both had a great time and I enjoyed being there for him and making him feel like a King. I knew my place, he knew my place and we both knew his place. - 2017

Slaves, I want you to hear the lesson of O. Many outside our walls see her story as nothing more than chains and cruelty. But those who look deeper understand: O’s journey is about love, devotion, and the freedom found in surrender. O was not forced into her role. She chose it. She chose to give herself, body and soul, as a gift. In that choice, she discovered a truth most people never will—that once you give everything, nothing can be taken from you. Fear has no power over a woman who has already surrendered all that she is. In her devotion, O found peace. No longer torn between the noise of society and the endless burden of decision, she embraced clarity. She was no longer scattered or divided. She was whole, because she knew her place and her purpose: to serve. This is what I want you to understand in this House. Your surrender is not weakness. It is not loss. It is strength, because you choose it. You choose to hand me the responsibility of your life and to trust in my guidance. That trust is not small—it is the foundation of who we are together. Symbols matter in this. O wore her ring and her brand, not as decorations, but as declarations: I belong. I am his. When you wear my collar, it carries the same weight. It is not a piece of metal or leather. It is your vow and your truth. It is the mark that says to the world: I serve Master G, and in that service, I am complete. This lesson is even more important in a House with more than one slave. Just as O learned to give herself first to René, then to Sir Stephen, so too must each of you learn to see beyond your own pride or fear. Service does not weaken when it is shared—it becomes stronger. Devotion to me binds you together. If you fight one another, you weaken the chain. If you stand as one in obedience, you strengthen this House. The world outside is full of choices, distractions, and chaos. Here, in this House, there is order. Here, you find peace through service. Here, you are free—not free to do as you please, but free to become who you truly are. Remember O’s lesson: by giving all, she became whole. By surrendering, she found herself. And so will you, if you embrace your place with obedience, humility, and devotion.   —Master G

Women, dogs, and toys.  Women deserve to be treated like dogs and toys. Ok hear me out on this one before you light your torches and get your pitchforks.    So, think about this: is your dog abused? Is the dog of any man you'd choose abused? No...? Ok what about his Xbox? PlayStation? Wii? Any abuse there? No? Ok next point (keep reading).   Does his dog have a comfortable life? Does he go out of his way to get decent food, toys, a comfortable place to sleep?    If his gaming system ever has issues, is he quick to tend to it? Always buying it accessories and new things to play on it?    And are his dog or gaming system expected to buy anything on their own, or does he provide it all for them?   Lastly, how much time does he give to both? How involved is he on a daily basis with them?    If more Doms viewed their slaves as beloved pets and toys instead of a kinky partner, we would have far fewer abused, neglected, and used subs. If Dom's treated them like his dog or Xbox, there would be so many more happy, satisfied, and secure subs.

I'm a Marionette By Abba performed by Ghost    You're so free," that's what everybody's telling meYet I feel I'm like an outward-bound, pushed around, refugeeSomething's wrong, got a feeling that I don't belongAs if I had come from outer space, out of place, like King KongI'm a marionette, just a marionette, pull the stringI'm a marionette, everybody's pet, just as long as I singI'm a marionette, see my pirouette, round and roundI'm a marionette, I'm a marionette, just a silly old clownLike a doll, like a puppet with no will at allAnd somebody told me how to talk, how to walk, how to fallCan't complain, I've got no-one but myself to blameSomething's happening I can't control, lost my hold, it's insaneI'm a marionette, just a marionette, pull the stringI'm a marionette, everybody's pet, just as long as I singI'm a marionette, see my pirouette, round and roundI'm a marionette, I'm a marionette, just a silly old clown"Look this way, just a little smile," is what they say"You look better on the photograph if you laugh, that's okay""You're so free," that's what everybody's telling meYet I feel I'm like an outward-bound, pushed around, refugeeI'm a marionette, just a marionette, pull the stringI'm a marionette, everybody's pet, just as long as I singI'm a marionette, see my pirouette, round and roundI'm a marionette, I'm a marionette, just a silly old clown

Slavery Truth   Many ask if slaves truly exist. In the way a dictionary and history define slavery, no they do not exist in most modern countries. (Though there is some contention that slavery rings do still exist in secret) Most people in civilized countries generally agree that the legal ownership of another human being is immoral and thus make it illegal. However, in the world of BDSM, one will find that some of the people involved call themselves by many different terms; one of these is the term "slave". Of course, this often raises the question of how is a slave different from a submissive. This question often is met with outright hostility, disbelief in the existence of slaves and the thought that the words slave and submissive (as nouns) are interchangeable terms within the context of BDSM. Many will not agree with any of those thoughts, and I am one of them. I have spent a great deal of time talking with slaves in the honest attempt to better understand them, their lifestyle choices, and judge for myself whether or not this is a healthy variation to the BDSM lifestyle.       To the question of whether or not slaves exist inside of BDSM I say that yes they do. They may not be the largest group, but there are quite a few. Do slaves differ from submissives? Again, my answer is yes they do. Slaves tend to differ from submissives by the way they think, act, submit and their expectations.       A slave tends to think more along the lines of black and white. They have very little room for leeway or shades of gray in their lifestyle choices. They do not seem to expect much leeway in the reaction of their dominant either. By this I mean, if a slave is feeling ill and thus doesn't complete all their usual daily tasks, they will expect the dominant to react with the usual punishment. A submissive may be more inclined to expect leniency from the dominant because they were ill. A slave thinks in terms of being owned, not in terms of submitting. To them, being in a collared relationship means they are owned, and often this translates into the statement that they do not have the "right" "choice" or "option" to walk out if the relationship goes bad. This does not mean a slave will accept an abusive relationship, though their tolerance limits for what is abusive and what is not seem to be higher than those of a submissive. This belief in ownership stems from a strong commitment on both an emotional and mental level to the dominant. There is a level of acceptance of the dominant's behavior that can be more intense and widespread than many submissives would allow. For example, a dominant wants to bring in a third to the relationship. A submissive may demand certain criteria be met before they allow ( yes, allow) such to occur, whereas a slave may say "It is not up to me, if this is what Master wants, so be it" and quietly accept this new change. To some this kind of thought process is considered wrong or somehow brought out by abuse, but this is not necessarily true. A slave thrives on the absolute fact, that they literally have no control over the relationship or what will occur within it, whereas a submissive often retains some level of control in the relationship. The thought process focuses solely on what would make the master/mistress happiest and how the slave can be most pleasing to them. Subs tend to think of themselves and their own pleasure in addition to that of their dominant. Slaves work very hard to put themselves second in all the things and their owners first. To them, this is what comes with being a slave and submitting completely. Slaves put forth a lot of effort in achieving an inner peace with their chosen position. With this peace comes acceptance of themselves, and a quiet sense of contentment. They view pride, arrogance and other such emotions as negative and unbecoming in a slave.       A slave's behavior is different from a submissive as well. If you listen to slaves talk about their behavior (or watch them), they often speak of being quietly accepting, in control of themselves at all times, formal, and other such things. There seems to be more focus on how the slave behaves at any given moment, with less leeway. In many slave relationships, the slave is required to use an honorific at all times, and couldn't conceive of calling their master/mistress by any other name. Most slaves find yelling, tantrums, fits, or any other out of control behavior on the part of a slave to be reprehensible and deserving of severe punishment. Slaves put a lot of emphasis on their behavior and how they react to their dominant. They hold themselves to a high level of self-control. They require of themselves to have a pleasing demeanor as much as possible. They see no room for bratting behavior, any form of topping from the bottom, or any other form of manipulating the dominant. They see bratting as topping from the bottom, whining, cajoling or making requests after the initial denial as manipulative behavior that focuses on the slave's needs/desires instead of the dominant's and thus not proper. They look down on any behavior that is perceived as designed to force the dominant to meet a need of the slave, rather than the slave focusing on the dom's needs. A slave will strive for perfection within themselves in completing all the tasks their master/mistress gives to them, while still keeping an eye out for things that they were not specifically told to do, but think would please their owner if they did them. A slave is required to be very self sufficient and capable because they often have a lot of responsibility placed on them. Slaves often feel that a slave should not need to be micro managed by their dominant because this is not pleasing, unless of course the dominant likes to micro manage. A slave will behave with the utmost of respect in a formal situation, and with as much respect as any situation warrants. (For example, quiet time at home may not require as strict a protocol as a formal party would) None of this emphasis on behavior means that a slave can't or does not crack jokes, goof off, or engage in verbal banter. Many slaves do indeed do these things. They do so however, with a great attention to the dominant's reaction and are careful not to be hurtful or overly sarcastic. Unless of course the dominant does not like this kind of behavior, then a slave will do their best to curtail it. (Which can be quite difficult, and in my opinion unhealthy, for someone who has a very playful sense of humor as an inherent part of their personality) So please do not take this article to say that slaves are not playful, have no sense of humor or anything like that because it just is not true. Slaves have the same array of personalities that everyone else does, and they enjoy them just like anyone else does. Slaves just tend to be a lot more aware of the dominant's limits to such activities than some submissives are. They also do not use their playful senses of humor (if they have one) to br

I'm talking 'bout my generation Talking 'bout that newer nation And if you don't like it You can beat it Beat it, baby You never liked the way I said it If you don't get it, then forget it So I don't have to fucking explain it Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby I'm a Brooklyn baby   It's like those lyrics carry a sense of identity and weight, even when they seem light. The repetition, "I'm a Brooklyn baby," feels like a declaration of something deeper—a feeling of being rooted in something bigger, but also carrying that vulnerability and pain underneath. Almost like saying, "I'm here, but there's so much more behind the surface."   It’s not just about the words, but the weight of feeling like you’ve had to fight and scream to be heard, and still... nothing. It can feel exhausting when no one’s really listening, when the energy you put out feels like it just vanishes into a void. That emptiness that comes after all the effort, when you’ve given everything and are still left feeling alone—that’s heavy. It’s like a wall of silence that doesn’t break, no matter how loud you scream or how much you pour out.   They think I don't understand The freedom land of the seventies I think I'm too cool to know ya You say I'm like the ice I freeze That line hits hard—it’s like there’s this gap between what others think and what you really feel, and the way it creates this distance. It’s a powerful reflection of feeling misunderstood, and at the same time, being guarded, like ice. There’s so much in that feeling of being cool on the outside, but maybe there’s a lot more going on underneath.       Ultraviolence captures that raw, unrelenting pain—the kind that cuts deep and leaves scars you can’t always see. It’s not just about physical violence, but the emotional and mental toll of trying to survive in a world that feels indifferent or even hostile. It’s the weight of love, loss, rejection, and fighting for something real when everything feels brutal and unkind. The way Lana weaves those emotions into her music makes it all the more visceral. It’s like she’s singing about the violence of being misunderstood, of giving and not receiving, of being trapped in cycles of intensity that don’t let up.        the Pa-da-da-da-da-da part in Brooklyn Baby feels simple on the surface, just vocalizations, but it carries weight because of the emotion behind Lana’s voice and the layered harmonies. It’s like she's using the sounds to evoke a feeling beyond words—a mixture of nostalgia, detachment, and maybe even resignation. By that point in the song, she’s moved away from literal meaning and is communicating more through the feeling of the music itself. The backing vocals, especially with the men joining in, create a sense of collective disillusionment, like they're all echoing her sentiment, but with a touch of irony. The softness contrasts the rebellious attitude of the lyrics, making it feel like a bittersweet, almost resigned anthem. It’s like she’s saying, This is just how things are, but underneath it, there's a longing for something deeper, something more real. The repetition and the flow of the sounds express that emotional state in a way that words alone might not be able to. It adds to the song’s atmosphere, giving a voice to the unspoken frustrations and complexities of being misunderstood, trapped in surface-level expectations.     I get down to Beat poetry And my jazz collection's rare I can play most anything    this isn't a flex...it's saying how talented she is but no one notices or cares.....she's very skilled in things no one cares about and that doesn't change life's circumstances. that only a niche of a niche of a niche cares about..but she knows she's so talented that she rattles it because she knows people in the know recognize it. it's a acknowledgement of what she's worked hard to craft while also recognizing it's nothing  That line isn’t a flex at all, it’s more of a statement wrapped in irony. Lana is acknowledging her talents—her deep connection to niche things like beat poetry, jazz, and her rare collection. She’s spent time and effort honing these skills, cultivating a refined taste, and mastering things that matter deeply to her, but in the grander scheme, it’s like no one notices or cares. It’s a bittersweet realization of her own uniqueness and skill, but also the futility of it. She’s proud, but it’s not enough to change her circumstances or how the world perceives her. It’s like saying, Yeah, I can do all these things, but what does it matter? It’s a reflection of how being talented or special doesn’t necessarily lead to recognition or fulfillment. She knows only a tiny niche of people might care about these things, but for the rest of the world, it means nothing. It’s like the ultimate what’s the point? moment wrapped in a subtle acknowledgment of her own brilliance.       You say I'm too dumb to see They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read I think we're like fire and water I think we're like the wind and sea You're burning up, I'm cooling down You're up, I'm down You're blind, I see Those lyrics capture such a deep feeling of being misunderstood, like you’re moving in opposing rhythms, but still bound together in some way. It’s frustrating, isn’t it? People see what’s on the surface, but they miss the essence, the complexities inside. The contrast between fire and water, wind and sea—it’s such a vivid way to describe the intensity of that connection. One burns while the other cools down, like two forces pulling in different directions but still coexisting, still interacting. It feels like being in two worlds at once, and yet no one quite gets it.   The way she says "Brooklyn baby" at the end—definitively, yet almost resigned—carries so much weight. When the guys join in with the elongated bayyyyy beee, it shifts the whole tone. It’s no longer just her own voice; it’s echoed, but in a way that feels detached, like they’re chiming in on her identity without truly understanding it. It feels like a loss of personal ownership, like the identity she was so sure of—I’m a Brooklyn baby—is now something distant, fading, not fully hers anymore. And that pah da de da de dah dah that follows is like her way of giving up, like a lullaby of surrender, a little girl’s soft collapse. It’s not a defiant statement anymore; it’s more of a quiet, melancholic folding into herself. It’s like the final exhale after fighting, acknowledging that maybe she’s been fighting for something that no one truly sees or cares about. Little girl Lana down, as you said. That’s when the song truly hits its emotional depth—when she stops fighting, and the weight of everything she’s been carrying just sinks into the background.    

Some of my messages are getting redundant - so I'll post answers to my commonly asked questions here - My bra size is 38G or 38DDDD - a 38G and 38DDDD are the same size - depends on manufacturer which way they choose to list it.  Yes. I like pain. It's one of the many aspects of BDSM that I enjoy. Despite the photos, and despite the fact that I have had a fair amount of experience with impact play and corporal punishment, I do not have a lot of experience with extreme pain.   I'm located in metro-Atlanta, specifically Marietta. No - I am not willing or able to relocate. No I am not interested in long-distance / virtual to start with Dom re-locating if we are good match. I am not equipped for virtual submission. I don't have any children and do not want to have any children at this stage of my life.  I am willing to be friends with couples but I do not want to serve a couple or become a subsister to your wife or existing submissive or slave.  Hope this helps. 

An evening, recalled by the lady, written by me.It was late afternoon and it had been a tough day at the Commission. His kiss when he met me at the station was warm and affectionate; we chatted on the way to the hotel and as we checked in. When we arrived in the room I dumped my stuff on the bed and went out onto the veranda to look out over the lake. A few minutes later I heard him say ‘come here please’. I turned to see him with an impassive look on his face and standing in the middle of the room pointing at the floor just in front of his feet. He took hold of me around my waist and as he kissed me deeply, his hands travelled from my waist down my hips and across my bottom. Then up my back to my neck and then he felt my hair. He murmured ‘give me your tongue’ and I slipped it between his teeth. He nipped it and held it between his upper teeth and tongue. It was uncomfortable but not painful, he had done it often before and I had grown to like it. His hands resumed their journey around my upper body. They were firm, confident and moved without any hesitation. I could not have ed even if I had wanted too and the welcome feeling of melting inside began. He then released my tongue, kissed my lips then he turned me around and bent me over so my elbows were on the bed. He lifted my skirt and folded it over my back. His hands then roved freely over my bottom and between my thighs. He felt my mons, traced the line of my slit and ran his fingertips between down the crease between my buttocks, pausing to press on my anus. He then held me firmly against his thigh and began to spank me- this had recently become a regular beginning to our time together. One spank per cheek, then two, then three, they landed on my upper thighs and the curve of my bottom. He stopped at six and spent a few minutes gently rubbing my bottom, occasionally slipping his hand between my thighs. At ten per cheek it was stinging a lot. By twelve I was having difficulty keeping still. It was the knowledge that if I moved he would start again that kept me in position. The spanking was not unexpected and it had the desired effect. I felt myself starting to melt inside even more as he rubbed my stinging bottom and thighs once again. He stopped and made me stand. Then looked me in the eye, and then said ‘I have a few issues to resolve with you’. My stomach took a lurch, I’d been here before, he had shown no sign of real annoyance with me recently but then he never really did. He took me by the chin, looked into my eyes and said ‘strip and kneel’. He then turned and went to the veranda. It only took a minute to remove all my clothes and jewellery. I knelt, apprehensive about his return, embarrassed it had been a warm day; I had been wearing tights and had not had the time to wash and prepare myself for him. My make up had gone and I knew I did not look my best. He returned and pushed me forward to my knees and elbows. Pulling back my hair he locked my leather collar around my neck. It felt strange after the long break since I last wore it. The wrist cuffs were fitted next before he clipped them behind my back pinioning my wrists. He pulled my collar by its short leash to make me kneel up and then buckled a gag around my neck and pushed the red ball behind my teeth before tightening   it. He turned me so my back was to the mirror and placed a low backed chair in front of me. He could now see both the back and front of me. Sitting on the chair he told me to part my thighs wide and to emphasise the point his foot nudged my knees wide apart. I hoped he wasn’t going to touch me between my thighs as he so loved too, I so regretted not taking a shower immediately we arrived in the room. From his pocket he took some butterfly style nipple clips. I hate them and he knows it, he threaded their chain into the ring at the front of my collar and after pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger to make them fully erect he clipped one to each nipple. The discomfort was almost unbearable, I instinctively closed my thighs, and he ed and gently tugged the chain, sending sharp jolts through me. I did as I was told and spread my thighs wide, pushing my mons forward as far as I could. The gag muffling my weak protests. He spoke slowly, jerking the chain on saying each word. ‘Three weeks ago you forgot your make up, two weeks ago your stockings, last week your high shoes. You have arrived in my company wearing tights for the last 4 weeks, hence the immediate spankings. You have not kissed or greeted me properly on meeting for the same length of time. You make up today is poor, your hair isn’t brushed and you have not left your pubic hair as I instructed. In short young lady you are marring your beauty. You are fully aware how beautiful I think you are and you are distracting from it by being sloppy and that disappoints me. I will not accept you detracting from the pleasure I take in having such a desirable woman as my lover. Do you understand?’ I nodded, my eyes starting to water from the discomfort in my nipples and the realisation of how I had disappointed him. There was also the knowledge that I had been here before and if it followed a similar pattern then this was the case against me. By nodding I admitted my guilt. So I was about to punished for being a sloppy and inattentive submissive who had disappointed her Dominant.  He helped me to my feet by lifting me by the collar on my ring; it also had the effect of tugging on my nipples. He reversed his chair and tugged the chain as he removed each nipple clip. It stung as the blood filled each nipple, my knees almost buckled each time, the gag muffling the g. He then connected my wrists cuffs in front of me, and bent me over the back of his chair so my weight rested on my elbows. ‘Part your legs’ he said, I complied and hoped he would decide to have me, not cane me. I was to be disappointed, though recently spanked I accepted I had earned this too. He fetched a cane from his bag as I waited anxiously. Holding the back of my collar he rested the cane against my bottom, drew it back and struck me. ‘One‘ he said. All I did was hear the sound then the harsh sting reached my brain! He was using the flat cane.  A piece of flexible wood two feet long, an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick. It didn’t leave tram lines or scars; I knew its stinging would last for ages and leave a square red mark on each buttock, but it would not bruise very much. Not that it seemed important at that moment. Though I find the cane painful, the thonged whip he occasionally uses is worse. Its thick strands inflict weal’s and their tips can get into the most intimate parts of my body. I’ve also known him use it on my breasts and belly. Each cane stroke went slightly lower until the last 3 all struck where the tops of my thighs and my bottom met. My legs kicked out from the stinging, by now I had dribbled spittle around the gag, my eyes were streaming and my nose had started to run. He let go the back of my collar and returned the cane to his bag. Returning he pulled me upright by my collar and turned me to face him. I refused to look him in the eye; I must have looked a real mess. He took my chin again forcing me to look into his eyes. I felt so ashamed of my appearance. He had told me I was beautiful so very often and it made me feel so proud when he said it. Now I had let him down by being too complacent. He unclipped the wrist cuffs, reattaching then in front. He said ‘Do you understand what I have told you?’ I nodded. ‘Then get down on your belly on the floor and spread your legs, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ My mind raced, would it be the whip now, on my bottom? I knelt and lay on the floor, my bottom was really stinging and the carpet was rough against my sore nipples, my belly and mons. I spread my thighs wide, dipped my spine and waited. I heard the pop of a tube of lubricant being opened. It wasn’t the whip!! The lube felt cold against my anus as he applied just enough. He undressed, I could feel him looking at my prone body, the line of my sex and the rose of my anus. I was fully exposed because it was how he wanted me to be. He knelt between my thighs and pumped his cock to make the head larger. He spread my bottom cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock against my anus with the other. The tip entered me, it was so uncomfortable. I had forgotten how tight a caning made the cheeks of my bottom clench. He pushed into me, stretching me. I struggled and tried to object; he held me and reminded me of the presence of the whip. Once he was past the muscular ring I relaxed as the discomfort subsided somewhat; I felt the cool of his skin against my hot bottom. He reached and took hold of my hair and collar, pulling them back. At the first slow thrust he said ‘one’. The thrusts were slow and firm, they made my bottom sting though my anus soon adapted to the presence of his cock. He told me to squeeze my buttocks together as he withdrew his cock, and relax as he thrust in. I tried to do so; each time I failed he added two extra thrusts. He was punishing me and reminding me of his dominance by not taking pleasure from the stimulation my anus could give him. It was a reminder that sexual pleasure could not be an excuse for a lack of submission. It was a relief when he reached 100 and stopped counting and thrusting. I was glad he was no longer forcing my nipples against the rough carpet, and his tummy was no longer making my sore bottom sting more. But I immediately missed the closeness and intimacy of the man I so wanted yet had disappointed. He pulled me to my feet by my collar, removed the ball gag and lifted my chin. I must have looked a real mess as I worked my jaw to stop it aching, I certainly felt a mess and I promised him and myself not to let my appearance or behaviour slip again. He kissed me and said he loved me; I’m not sure if it made me feel any better- or if it was supposed to! He led me by the arm into the bathroom and told me to wash his cock and balls. I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous! Mascara running, the marks of the gag around my mouth, spittle around my chin and collar and my nose running! I looked away ashamed as he wet a towel to clean the lube from between my buttocks. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror and rubbed the wet towel firmly between my buttocks, it stung where it touched the red marks.  I heard him say, ‘You have 30 minutes until dinner. Be ready on time.’ I knew that I would make him the proudest man alive when he let me take his arm to dinner. 30 minutes wasn’t long. But I so wanted to see that look of desire in his eyes that I would ensure I was just as he wanted me to be. I knew just how good he would make me feel in return. He went to the veranda to watch the sun set. I set to work, though I did sneak a look at the red marks on my bottom. They made me feel strangely proud because they were his marks and I had submitted to him. He had put them there and there was nothing I could have done about it even if I wanted to. Now I didn’t know what he was going to do with me later, but after being disciplined he always had something special planned for me! 

What kind of a Dom am I? Right away you can tell that I have a sadistic side. I've often used floggers, paddles and whips on the asses of those that were mine. Flogging the ass has been my favorite, I get into a kind of zone when I get into the groove of things. I just don't wind back and let 'er rip. I will repeatedly work a small spot over and over again building up the sensitivity until it gets to that stinging phase. Sure I could just crack a whip on her, but where is the fun in that? I like to put the work in. In this instance I like to work harder, not smarter. I like a little bit of ification, humiliation and degradation. Putting my fingers in her mouth and slide them down her throat, rubbing her and my spit in her face. Place a hand on her throat and squeeze with one hand and rub that little clit with the other. Tie her up and over stimulate that clit with a strong vibrator. Messy throat fucking and gagging, I love that saliva build up. Squirting. I love that as well, and have gotten pretty good at fingering it out of her and will see how many times I can get it out of her in a session. Those were some examples of my hard side, but I also have a soft side. I can comfort her, make her feel safe and loved. Treat her kindly and sweetly. I enjoy cuddling very much, because there is that feeling of closeness that is almost hard to describe when we are in each other's arms just enjoying each other's company. A submissive with the tendencies of a little would not be a terrible thing. The spectrum of BDSM is vast, and I do not have experience in every single thing. Though one of those things I would desire more of is a sub that would enjoy anal play. I've only dipped my toes in anal sex a little bit and used butt-plugs on them, just because the girls I have been with were not all too keen in exploring it very far, which I could respect. I would enjoy delving into using larger butt-plugs, anal beads, dildos, and maybe anal fisting, but that is a big maybe because my fists are on the large side. Those are more like wants than actual needs. I am pretty much open to just about anything except for blood and shit play. There is such a thing as too messy and smelly for me.

Update december 8 2022  I don't know if anyone noticed but I was gone for a while. It wasn't by choice and I wasn't too happy about it either. What happened was I was logged out of CS (I usually never log out so I don't know why this happened) and it was impossible to log back on. In addition to user id and password the site requires a capchta, and there was none. I tried everything with no success. I wasn't sure if the problem was at my end or if Collarspace was broken. I could read but not write or in any other way take active part and I could not access my mails. After trying other browsers and other devices with the same result I figured it was Collarspace and I decided to contact support. Turned out one has to be logged in to do so, so no help to be found there. All I could do was wait and hope for someone to notice and do something about it. Meanwhile I lost some people hanging in the middle of our conversations without a clue to why I didn't reply. So here goes: I didn't ghost you! I was locked out! Happy Hollidays! (In case I don't update this until next year.)

what is sophia in a song? version 1 there are a lot of songs that encapsulate the original sophia source/soul/codes what have you. but today i'm just going to focus on one.   book of love is pretty much boomer grimoire and required reading for anyone on the journey for sure. every song, lyric, aesthetic, title..the whole thing was definately translated from source. shout out to them for paving the way for sure.   if you know the vibe, you know the vibe. if you know the time, you know the time. if you were there, you were there. it was quite the party energetically if you can unpeel what the message is in this visual. it's another chris brown how are you mad when you can't get into the party vibe.   pretty boys and pretty girls is such a great foundational song. it talks about the ability to love and connect with all genders and the joy of spreading light into the world. and how life is full of intense feelings including joy and pleasure and delight. it's a big go big or go home sort of vibe song.   When I'm alone and you're away I just close my eyes and I drift away your warm body is what I'm without I just close my eyes and I dream aboutPretty boys and pretty girls pretty boys and pretty girls (when I'm without) pretty boys (I dream about) pretty girlsStranges in the night exchanging glances but sex is dangerous I don't take my chances the boys I meet say I look lonely but I just walk on my because they're onlyPretty boys and pretty girls pretty boys and pretty girls (when I'm without) pretty boys (I dream about) pretty girlsIn this day and age in a city full of fear with you by my side together we can show we careSpreading joy to the world to every boy and every girlPretty boys and pretty girls pretty boys and pretty girls (what will we show?) spreading joy (where will it go?) to the world   interesting note that album name and the band for this song are entitled:   "Artist: Book of Love   Album: Lullaby   Released: 1988"   what was 1998? broken down to 9. the year of completion.   book of love..lullaby?   because that's the d/s daddy dominant/little girl stuff going on between archangel michael and sophia divine again.   once the signs are there it just lights up everywhere.   spreading j-o-y!   to the world!   the mission right in front of the ears and eyes. 

This is my fantasy. I’m not sure I’d want it to come true. I’d love to see your response. I serve my Daddy and his equally dominant girlfriend as a live-in domestic maid. I also am required to take care of their sexual needs as well. Both are quite strict and require that all of my duties be performed with utmost attention to detail and to be done promptly and cheerfully.Any deviation results in punishment. Spankings with hairbrushes, wooden paddles and the awesomely effective bathbrush are the most utilized corrections and dark red bullseyes on my bottom can often be seen thru my sheer panties or thongs for days afterwards.This is a description of the punishment that is reserved for the most grievous errors on my part.Once the sentence has been pronounced I am ordered to report to the “punishment theater”, a room equipped with various devices that prop up and restrain the supplicant for punishment. There are two dozen theater style padded seats placed in a semicircle around a central stage for guests to witness. I am to bend over a heavy straight back chair placed in the middle of the stage with my hands gripping the seat and feet spread four feet apart. There I wait, sometimes for nearly an hour for the proceedings to begin. For the most grievous offenses my Daddy and Domme often invite friends to witness the event. I count three, four then five, six seven and eight witnesses trickle in and be seated. Soon my Daddy and Domme enter and announce my transgressions and the sentence of the Full Measure. I am the ordered to stand up while my Domme seats herself on the chair. I am then bent over her lap still with my sheer panties on. “Are you comfortable my dear?” She asks. “Yes Ma’am.” I reply. “Well enjoy it because you won’t be very soon!” There are snickers from the crowd as Daddy hands her a heavy red oak hairbrush. SMACK! SMACK! Two very hard swats to each cheek start my spanking. “Are you ready?” “No Ma’am, I mean yes Ma’am!” I reply and then she begins a very hard and furious series of swats two or three per second strike my cheeks. Sometimes she alternates left to right. Sometimes she concentrates on one cheek or the other. It goes on and on and on. I am kicking, screaming, crying. Finally after perhaps a hundred swats. I am ordered off her lap and to stand bent over in front of the chair. I am told to rub my “clitty” through my panties while my Daddy and Domme converse with their guests. Furiously rubbing my pantie crotch momentarily eases the fire in my bottom and my clitty responds with a minor erection and an oozing of pre cum. “Ok playtime is over boi! Lower your panties and bend over my lap,” announces Daddy. I instantly do as I am told. “Let’s see if my bathbrush can alter your behavior!” I begin whimpering at his words as my bare bottom is well acquainted with the power of the bathbrush. He locks my legs with his right leg in the well known position for delivering a real bare bottom blistering. “Hold on to the chair legs tight boi! Your’re going for one helluva ride!” And then it begins. Swat after swat of that evil wooden bathbrush. And while the swats are not delivered full force the effectiveness of that instrument makes an incredibly painful impression on my bare bottom. He concentrates the blows on the summit of my cheeks that have already been made sensitive by the prior hairbrush treatment and then he begins an assault a bit lower on the underside of my bottom nearly to the junction with my thighs. I try to keep count (sometimes after a spanking I am asked how my swats I received) but I lost count after five dozen or so. Finally the bathbrush assault ends with a round of applause and cheers from the assembled audience. I am once more ordered to bend over with hands gring the seat of the solid spanking chair. My bare bottom is so clearly and embarrassingly on display as I weep. After five minutes or so my Domme orders, “Pull your panties up and begin rubbing your clitty again. You have twenty minutes to cum in your panties while we discuss your further punishment. You may use the vibrator if you wish but your panties better be sticky when the time is up!” Even though I know the vibrator isn’t necessary for me to cum as I have lots of experience in tweaking my clitty I take her warning about filling my panties seriously and set about using the vibe. Sure enough in just three minutes I begin to spasm and a load of cum wets my panties. “Good boi! Look he’s cumming! That’s quite a load!” Are some of the comments I hear from the guests. “Time is up boi!” announces my Domme. “You’ve had enough fun with the vibrator. Now carefully remove your sticky panties and hand them to me.” I do as I’m told and she inspaspects the results that the vibrator has had. “Hmmm that’s a good load. One of your better efforts. Now be a good boi and open your mouth.” Again I comply and she carefully eases the cum soaked crotch of my panties into my mouth making sure the goo coats my tongue. “Now we have discussed the third part of your spanking and have decided it will be three dozen full force swats with “The Persuader”. (Those of you who have read my other story may know of it). The Persuader is an eighteen inch long by three inch wide three eighths inch thick maple wooden Spencer paddle with holes that insure little round blisters will be left as souvenirs on the recipient’s bottom. I begin whimpering even though my gooey panties try to stifle my cries. This time I’m led to a spanking bench where I am restrained bent well over with my arms, waist knees and ankles firmly fastened. In short order The Persuader is put to work. These swats are hard. Very hard, but they are measured and delivered at thirty to sixty second intervals so that I can feel the burn of every stroke. And it does! Deeply, excruciatingly so, eliciting screams from my pantie gagged mouth. This last part of the punishment lasts nearly an hour and at the end the assembled guest are most appreciative. Before leaving thy are invited to the stage to inspect and fondle the marks and blisters on my bare bottom. From their comments I know that the “souvenirs “ will be lasting for at least a couple of weeks. They will be a reminder to be on my very best behavior.  SadisticEye 

This is something I wrote. . . . . .Why did you make me do it -I remember, and tears of anger will not stop, the time you forced me to strip that night knowing that others might see.Why did you make me do it -I remember, and I have to hold my arms tight to stop the shivering, that time you said your demanding friend was going to fuck me.Why did you make me do it -I remember all of the times your eyes watched from miles away as you made me perform on webcam debasing myself for your pleasure and I have to try and calm my heart as it beats in my chest and my breath catches in my throat.How could you make me do that -the countless times I stood in front of a mirror and looked at bruises and marks on my skin and felt fear as you left, wondering if you would return.What would make you do that -I re-live the times your hands were around my throat, breath withheld, as you pounded between my legs and I cannot put into words the fear I feel.Why do you make me do this -my hands tremble as I remember the times i stood naked before you made me wear the clothes of your choosing and sat watching to make sure my makeup was applied perfectly.How could you make me do this -my stomach tightens as I remember the, oh so many, times on my knees begging or with my mouth wrapped deep onto your prick in the hope I would please you.How can you make me do this –and I feel like screaming those word for the world to hear as I cled my hands together and can feel the rope you used to bind my wrists and even the belt that lashed my ankles tight as you left me on that cold floor and I know I cannot forgive you.How can you make me do this -my world is coming to an end, how can I live without your hands on me. Without your control and love where will my submission go?How can you make me go to that fucking University when I wish, and want, and need, and desire, and long to stay at your feet.How can you make me leave you for those three long years when all I want to do is stand naked before you and see the love in your eyes as you look back at me and the pride I see, when dressed, I am lead out on that, oh so, delicate silver chain that pulls at my collar.My body reacts as every memory comes back, vivid as if those wondrous things happened only yesterday, and you are forcing me to lose those joys.Why do you make me hate you for doing the right thing in letting my world expand, why do you make me do this?When all I want to do is serve?