I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Former US Army Chiefs of Staff chairman Mark Milley 4 Star General https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2024/10/12/mark-milley-donald-trump-fascist/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFVuQ0RP_As https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9to_1UYH5rE https://www.c-span.org/video/?539560-1/joint-chiefs-staff-chair-mark-milley-discusses-us-national-security    

Sunday 12th Nov 2023 Chilling now after a busy weekend.  I am designing wrapping next which will go on my shop. It will be lovely to have my own design to wrap gifts in. P.S Live near London and take my NO at my 1st answer or get blocked. Pretty simple folks. I wish I knew someone near me who could make clothes. I can design the fabric pattern and get it printed. Meanwhile a thoughtful submissive driver to go to out together with would be fun.Where's a cute little bitch when I need one. Saturday 11th Nov 2023 Art day today and baking tomorrow as I have guests visiting.  The Mawning munch is in a few weeks. I miss going to Club Pedestal but my driver required. I would prefer a younger guy who can keep up with my energy levels. Friday 10th Nov 2023New to Collarspace but not the fetish scene. My main profile is on FL. I go to my local munch in Romford, they have great food there. See you there sometime at the Mawney Munch in Romford Essex UK. 

Prospective slave's Friend Requests In My search for a total slave, I have had several make a "Friend" request of Me. I tire of explaining to each and every prospective pieces of chattel that I am not looking for a 'friend.' Indeed a slave of mine would never be a friend, buddy, lover or social equal of any kind. To illustrate, I explain that if I walked into a public Men's room and surveyed the line up of porcelain urinals I would not be looking for a 'friend.' Nor would I expect to treat any of the appliances like a lover. In fact if the prospective slave were kneeling with its mouth open in the line up of other urinals, I may choose to ignore it for any of a number of utilitarian reasons, like maybe its face was particularly filthy with urine, ejaculate or even human waste and covered with flys. And, speaking of human urinals, I do like to hear effusive gratitude for the slave's opportunity to be of service to a Better, but, a sign above it, if speech were impaired by say a spider gag, would work as well. Master James

The Whip The single tail was never my impact play item of choice.  In fact, I was afraid of it.  In Texas there are a lot of whip enthusiasts.  There are vanilla groups in Texas for people who are interested in using one.  For bdsm practitioners the use of a whip for scene play is rarely used.  That doesn't stop people from cracking a whip in the dungeon.  Eventually I learned to love being whipped but it wasn't easy.    Some dungeons prohibit single tails.  They're loud and intimidating. Just hearing that familiar sound (my lame attempt at describing the sound) wu-tish!! was enough to turn heads. Some didn't like the distraction of it during play at the dungeon so in some cases it wasn't allowed.    In the beginning, most of my impact play involved floggers, canes, crops and other similar things. My Domme however was very interested in using a whip and connected with other dominants who had experience with single tails. After we scenes She would seek out someone with a whip and practiced with it.    As her sub, it was fascinating to watch her try to crack the whip. I wanted to please her so I agreed to stand by with my hands over my face as the whip would lightly wrap around me over and over.    I want to whip you while you're suspended she said.    Okay but I'm very afraid I replied.  I'll try it as long as I wear a mask and leather thong.    A friend of mine sold me a mask. It was made of stiff thick leather.  It didn't cover my head but it covered my face and ears. It was so cool looking!  The thong was easier to get. I found a side tie one at a leather shop in town. I also wore a leather collar to protect my neck.  I was ready.  Bring it on I thought to myself.    In the beginning I would be cuffed to a spreader bar with my arms overhead.  My Domme bought a 4ft whip which we used for practice. After a few sessions we didn't like the damage it caused. It was very painful. I hated it.  We later learned that shorter whips cause the most pain.    We bought a 6 foot whip and practiced with that for awhile.  Finally we bought an 8 foot whip.  My Domme could now stand far away and whip me like a pro. Both of us were amazed at the performance of a long whip. She learned to throw it around me and got that Wu-tish!! sound Everytime.    We went to our favorite dungeon and did a scene with the whip.  This time I was suspended and wearing all of the protective gear I bought. I was hoisted up and whipped.  She took long pauses between lashes.  Every lash has purpose. She wanted evenly spaced marks.  I wore those marks proudly and the scene caused quite a stir.   Dominants like to push limits and subs often don't think they can say no. In my case, I agreed to be whipped while suspended because I was now confident if her ability and I felt safe.  We were refining our scene. Little did we know but we were about to make a huge impression on the Texas scene.   Next up: The Gift. 

I am tired.  I am wore slap out already.   Working 10- 12 hour days.. Six days a week and four hours the seventh.  It has gotten old very quickly while I wait for bosses to make decisions on who will be my next assistant without consideration from me.   The stress of work, the stress of house, has me completely blown out.  I collapse into exhausted sleep every evening now, while thoughts of work and how I will have the energy to get the most simple of things done at house that I need to get taken care of.   These are my days right now.   So forgive me if I get a little on edge when the word fun is thrown at me like a ball to my dog.  I dont have time for fun. I have a department to run.  I couldnt care less about fun.  I care about making it through the next day with hopefully a little less stress than the last.  I care about making it through my contract so I can get my rearend home where I will be happier.   Fun is good and all, but it is not the focus of my life.  It is not the focus of what I want in a relationship.   Sorry for the rant y'all.  I am just so tired of hearing... what are you doing fun tonight or well thats no fun.  Shaking my head.  I am beginning to detest that word with a passion.

7/25/24- Theres a part of our dynamic that doesnt seem to be acknowleged for what it is..  " Our aim is to connect with the right female who resonates with the idea and has the desire of joining a household but specifically our household... My first girl oversees everyone when I am not present, as work takes me for periods of time. Your domestic duties in the home would be light as its shared amongst the three of you. Simple mundane tasks that your basic upkeep any nucular family household would require, with opportunities to take on more responsibilities if desired over time. Your outward role may be that of a “roommate” or a "housekeeper” to those who don’t know the lifestyle," No this doesn't mean were looking for a maid. We're looking for a sub  and were trying to make it clear that we expect other people to not understand the lifestyle choices everyone makes and that if you are living in this house you will have house responsibilities and expected to help keep it clean. This is common sense. Yes there are two other females in this home but that doesn't mean you don't get to do anything but be in a bed 24/7.... I mean we have to let you out to shower at some point right?  All jokes aside- hoping to find a sub that is service orientated, has slave tendency, or wants to be a slave.  

I don't know when I'll update my main profile, so here's a little about me: I was born in 1974. My hair is much longer than in my pictures here. I rarely initiate contact, but usually respond. I am open to online play, though would love something irl. I will send newer photos upon request. Also: == Results from bdsmtest.org ==  100% Rope bunny  100% Degradee  95% Masochist  95% Submissive  89% Pet  84% Exhibitionist  71% Switch  61% Rigger  60% Degrader  58% Experimentalist  52% Brat  49% Vanilla  46% Voyeur  44% Non-monogamist  42% Slave  42% Ageplayer  41% Sadist  35% Owner  33% Dominant  32% Primal (Prey)  15% Master/Mistress  13% Daddy/Mommy  6% Primal (Hunter)  5% Brat tamer  0% Boy/Girl   

The vow of a slave:   I met her in the shadow’s call, A Mistress strong, unyielding, tall. Bound by fate, though not by choice, A forced path, a silenced voice.   At first, I raged, defied, denied, Met steel with fire, stood in pride. Yet every lash, each measured word, Cut through walls I'd never heard.   Then one night, through softened eyes, I saw her break, I heard her cries. Not steel nor whip, but fragile pain, A soul beneath the cold domain.   I made her laugh, I found the key, A bond unshackled—yet bound was me. Not by chains nor cruel demand, But by the touch of knowing hands.   She spoke of honor, of my name, That my defeat would bring her shame. A slave to her, but not to fear, She made my purpose crystal clear.   No loss allowed, no second place, For I was hers—a pure embrace. With every strike, with every fight, I bore her will, I claimed my right.   And so I swore, through time unkind, She holds my heart, she owns my mind. Not just in flesh, but in my soul, For she had shaped me, made me whole.

Regarding safewords and such... saw a journal post that caught my attention. My two cents worth: Don't rely on colors or even simple code words like "uncle" or "mercy" playing the very first or even first few times with someone new. If they don't agree with "No" means "No," at the outset, don't play with them. Don't be the sub that consents to having any choice taken away with someone new, and don't be the Dom(me) who takes that choice away. Save the word games for later in the friendship, after more trust is built up, and you have more assurance of your partner's safety and care for your welfare, or they have from you of their own. I for one have gone so far as to have actually used "Mercy" in a scene that I felt was going too far, but She didn't hear me, and I didn't repeat it. And I endured it. It was Someone I knew for almost 20 years by then. It didn't destroy what we had, and I was okay with it afterwards. But here's the thing: We had known each other that long, and we had that deep a trust while in the Dungeon. It wouldn't have been acceptable the first time we played if I had said "No" and She didn't stop. But She was always much more attentive than that. I've been fortunate that all the Tops and Dommes I've been with (only several, I assure you) have not crossed acceptable consent boundaries at all. They have known not to without having to negotiate it. Every Top should know not to, and every bottom has a right to expect that. I would call it common sense, if sense were really common.

On Being Felled, Temporarily   I have been absent. Those of you who follow closely will have noticed the silence and drawn your own conclusions. The conclusion is this: my body staged one of its more dramatic rebellions in the form of a kidney infection serious enough to take me entirely off the board for the better part of two weeks. I do not get sick quietly or briefly, apparently. When I go down I go down with the full commitment I bring to everything, which I would find more admirable if it were not so thoroughly inconvenient. I am on the other side of it now, or near enough to be upright and writing, which I am choosing to count as a victory. While I was ill, someone broke into my home. I want to let that sit for a moment because I am still sitting with it myself. I was sick, my children were unsettled, and someone decided that was an acceptable time to violate the space where my family lives and take what did not belong to them. They took the children's gaming system, which in the grand accounting of what could have been lost is not the worst possible outcome, and I know this, and I have said this to myself many times. It does not make my children's faces easier to look at. The specific devastation of a preteen who has had something taken, not misplaced, not broken accidentally, but deliberately stolen from their home, from the place that is supposed to be safe, is its own particular kind of heartbreak to witness as a mother. They were crushed. I was furious on their behalf in the way that only a mother's fury operates, which is to say completely and with no available outlet. I handled it alone. As I handle everything. And this is where I find myself needing to say something I do not say easily, which is that my resilience, that quality I have always counted on, felt genuinely shaken this past week. Not broken. I want to be precise about that because I will not be imprecise about myself even when honesty is uncomfortable. Not broken. But shaken in the way that a foundation shakes when too many things hit it simultaneously, the illness and the violation and the children's hurt and the daily weight of a life I carry without assistance, all of it arriving at once while my body was already at its limit. I had hoped, by now, to be in a different chapter. I had hoped, genuinely and specifically, to be in conversations about sharing a home with someone actually prepared to show up for this life. Someone whose service was not theoretical, not a future intention, not a beautiful idea that dissolves on contact with the reality of what showing up actually requires. Someone who would have been here during a kidney infection that left me barely functional. Someone whose presence would have meant my children came home from school to a stable and managed household rather than to a mother running on empty and a space that had been violated. That person does not currently exist in my life, and the disappointment of that is not small. It is not something I can dress up into acceptance without first acknowledging that it is a genuine and specific grief. I built a vision. I know what I deserve. I know what this dynamic looks like when it is real and functional and inhabited by someone with actual capability and actual commitment. The gap between that knowledge and my current reality is something I feel most acutely on the weeks that ask the most of me. I am resilient. I will return to myself completely, as I always do. But this week the crown was heavy. I wanted to tell you that honestly, because this space has always been about the full truth of this life, not only its beauty.   More soon. I am still here. I am still unserved. I am still waiting and wanting. 

LOCALS ONLY is a joke In an our globalized world, the internet has revolutionized how people connect, particularly through Collarspace, an international dating platform. These platforms were created to bridge geographic divides and allow individuals from different countries and cultures to meet, communicate, and build meaningful relationships. However, a growing trend among users seeking "locals only" on these very platforms reflaspects a perplexing contradiction. Using a globally-focused platform with the intention of limiting interactions strictly to one's immediate geographic area not only defeats the platform's core purpose but also signals a misunderstanding of what international dating services offer. It also severely limits your dating prospaspects. Makes your already shallow dating pool even shallower. (Is that a word?) The "locals only" seeks fails to understand the primary purpose of international dating platforms. They are designed to connect people across borders—whether for cultural exchange, long-distance relationships, By default, they attract a diverse user base from around the world, all seeking the novelty and potential of meeting someone beyond their immediate environment. When a user signs up for such a platform and states a preference for "locals only," they are effectively asking the global system to act like a local one. This is akin to walking into a sushi restaurant and asking for a hamburger—not only does it miss the point, but it also disrespaspects the design and intention behind the service. Moreover, the "locals only" preference is better suited for traditional, region-specific dating apps and websites. Platforms like Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, or even regionally tailored apps are more efficient and practical for meeting people nearby. Choosing an international platform for a local search is an inefficient use of both time and technology. It can also lead to frustration, as the majority of the user base is likely to be from other countries, not your neighborhood. It's like booking a flight to attend a neighborhood block party—you've gone too far for something that was never meant to be a long-distance trip in the first place. There’s also an implicit irony in the behavior. Many who seek "locals only" on international platforms may be unaware of how it appears to others: confused, inconsistent, or even insincere. Are they open to new experiences, or are they using the wrong tool for the job? It can send mixed signals to other users, especially those who are genuinely interested in intercultural communication and international relationships. It also raises questions: Why not just use a local app? Why filter out the very thing that makes the platform valuable? This illogical contradiction can create an unwelcoming environment on what is meant to be an inclusive and borderless space. International dating platforms thrive on openness, diversity, and cross-cultural interaction. Narrowing the experience to only include people from one's immediate vicinity diminishes the richness of that diversity and may even alienate users who joined to explore love beyond borders. In conclusion, searching for "locals only" on an international dating platform is not only ironic but also counterproductive. It undercuts the very essence of what such platforms offer and sends a message that contradicts their foundational purpose. If one’s interest lies strictly in local dating, there are countless platforms better suited for that goal. But to truly benefit from an international dating experience, one must be open to the world—otherwise, what's the point of being on a global stage?

For fuck's sake, guys. It is truly pitiable how few of you bother to do anything at all to learn about the reality of your own desires. There are non-fiction books, blogs, sites, videos, discussions, munches, classes, seminars, demos, and events all over the place, if you look up from the porn and erotica and think with the upper head. It is nobody elses responsibilty to teach you. Dominant women are NOT automatic teachers of all the stuff. How do you think WE learn it? I've read a whole 3 profiles this evening. This is why I don't bother to read more. They are ignorant, porn-fed, and say nothing of interest. Dominants do not "mold" you into a different person. Daily life in a D/s relationship in the real world without payment living together on a daily basis looks pretty much the same as any other relationship. It is not a constant kinky scene. Most subs wear the same old clothes, do the same old stuff, have the same old hobbies. Their partner is in charge for whatever they have agreed to, but that isn't a constant visible porn scene. A dominant does not live for inspections and demands. It means he asks if a casserole is okay for dinner, and if she says no, he finds something else. It does NOT mean she is standing over him in a corset inspecting his shopping list with a crop in her hand. It doesn't mean you spend your days cringing and hoping every tiny detail is correct. That's erotica. Learn the difference. No, submissive men do not look or act any different than any other men. There is absolutely no need to make a point of how normal you are in public. Subs are ALL normal appearing people. Because that is what they are. Normal people who happen to prefer their partner being in charge. You are not alpha special super sub because you do not crawl in public or do have solid boundaries or do not have social anxiety. None of those things are submissive. You are just another guy. Get over it. And no, if you have social anxiety, insecurities, poor personal boundaries, or any other personal issue, submission will not fix it. Dominants are not gurus, not life coaches, not therapists, and are not out here looking for projaspects. Submission just means you do things her way. That does not make all your problems go away, and a dominant is no more interested in taking on a project and trying to fix some guy than any other woman. Your life, your personality, your issues, as well as your other qualities, are yours to deal with. That does not change because of a relationship. If you want kinky play, that's great. Have fun! Go meet a network of kinky play friends and go for it! But do NOT call yourself a slave and pretend you want an FLR. That is not what that means.

Ya gotta love the smuckers who write an email to insult you.  lol  What a waste of brain cells. The wonderful thing about the thinking mind -IT IS NOT STATIONARY.  The thinking mind is an organic thing which is constantly on the cutting age of THINKING!  Hopefully thoughts change.  Hopefully one is influenced by the world around them and they are unafraid to be CHALLENGED, MISINFORMED, MISUNDERSTOOD AND OR WRONG.  Every single successful person I've come across says the one thing which differentiates them from others is they TOOK A CHANCE.  They WENT OUT ON A LIMB - in thought, word and deed, literally!  They got BACK UP whenever knocked down. I'm unafraid to be ABSOLUTELY POSITIVLEY WRONG ABOUT mR. President.  Personally, even if I wanted to approve of some of his intentions, his tactics are BARBARIC and shredding our Constitution into nice little CORPORATE BUNDLES.  Nobel Peace Prize My arse!  Really? RUSSIA?  Did I miss the memo when we were hanging out and making nicey nice with authoritative dictators?  Forget about any of this retroAmericanmaking, what about My rights as a woman? THERE IS ONLY ONE WAY ANY PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES WILL HAVE MY VOTE AND THAT IS WHEN MY BODY IS MY OWN AND THE BABY GROWING INSIDE OF IT IS MY WILL.  SO LONG AS GOVERNMENT WANTS IN MY CUNT, I'M OUT!  GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY DICK!  PERHAPS THIS IS THE ONLY LANGUAGE THE BARBARIAN LOCKERROOM BOYS UNDERSTAND.  THIS IS NOT THE KIND OF WORLD I AM OKAY WITH SO NO, I DON'T BLOODY LIKE THIS FUCKING PRESIDENT, SO FUCK OFF AND TAKE YOUR STUPID ASS OUT OF MY EMAIL UNTIL YOU COME UP WITH SOMEONE WHO SPEAKS FOR ME.  UNTIL THEN, GOOD LUCK AND GOOD RIDDANCE.

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

A slave define destiny ; A slave surrenders all its human rights and civil liberties and indeed it has no real need of them. The slave is after all just a mere nonentity that is the owned property of its lawful owner. A slave is not its owners spouse, lover, friend, associate, colleague; it is its owners owned property...period. The slave cannot say what it pleases, do what it pleases or go where it pleases. It can only do what it is told and go where it is told.  Being a slave is by no means an easy option in life. A slave must have plentiful labor to keep it busy during the day so it’s never really idle.  Some owners require it to endure painful suffering in order to alleviate their own stressful anxieties and/or to enhance their three dimensional cathartic euphoria and improve and maintain their general well being. Even when safety is ensured it is no easy task for the slave to endure.  it has been the custom and tradition for a slave to be kept completely in various types of restraint to restrict but not prevent movement. Such restraints have varied but included shackles, locked or soldered collars, locked chastity restraints. These have served a purpose of demonstrating to the slave and to others that it is property that owns and has access to nothing of its own and that it is completely owned and under the absolute power of its designated owner. It also additionally served to reinforce the slavery through humiliation, degradation and subjugation.    When it comes to clothing there is little room for compromise. Clothing for a slave is a privilege and slaves clothing is chosen for them, they embrace the Masters desires plain and simple . Failure to adopt this simple rule will give the slave ideas above his station.    A slave belongs to its owner and is on the periphery of its owner’s life, not at the center of the owner’s life. It places a servile and support function role only. Its conduct in slavery must be impeccable and it must never ever let its owner down.  A slave is never allowed to look at its owner's face.  A slave should never ever have access to the same luxuries that a freeborn person has. It should be housed in a small locked room or a cage when it is resting or sleeping or otherwise not required. Adequate heating and ventilation provided along with food and drink and mobile toilet facilities during its confinement stay.  Once owned the slave should not have any further contact with family or friends nor should it watch television, listen to the radio, read newspapers, periodicals, books, use the computer, or telephone and write to anyone. It also has no right of complaint about its treatment as a slave or any right of appeal to a third party.  It is property that is owned and so it must remain. Once negotiations have ceased and agreement reached about the parameters of the said slavery, the slave itself must offer itself unconditionally and not place any hindrance in the way of its owner’s legitimate right to use her owned property as she herself chooses within the agreed parameters.   

¿Es necesario el amor en una relación BDSM?Respuesta rápida: depende. Como siempre dar like, compartir, comentar, seguir https://amaasht.art.blog/2023/03/19/de-amor-y-bdsm-nunca-nuevo-siempre-actual/

Goddess's Adoring slut The luckiest man who has ever lived is this horny little painslut. He is lucky because he serves the most wonderful Goddess there is. She is the most beautiful Goddess, the most caring Goddess, the smartest Goddess, the kindest Goddess, the most loving Goddess, the sexiest Goddess, the naughtiest Goddess, the raunchiest Goddess, the horniest Goddess, the harshest Goddess, the most fearful Goddess, the Goddess who cums the most explosively and often, and the Goddess who extracts from this trampy little skank his most delicious cries and whimpers and his most convulsive trembles and shivers and squirms. This little painslut knows his Goddess is the brightest star in the Heavens, and that he is the stinkiest turd in the cesspool. he knows that he is entirely unworthy of Her. he knows he doesn't deserve to be the lucky little tart who gets to to be Her footstool and Her washcloth and Her bondage whore and Her strap-on snuggie and Her ball gag cozy and Her clamp organizer and Her flogger fuckhole and Her riding crop cunt and Her whip wimp and Her paintoy and Her whimperbitch. He knows that he is luckiest when he is bound and gagged and helpless and vulnerable and She is extracting the most ecstatic screams and cries and whimpers from him because he displeased Her, or because there is nothing good on TV. He knows he is not worthy of being her little whimperbitch. He is not worthy of serving her, of being owned by Her, of being protected by Her, of being trained by Her, of being cared for by Her, of being harshly used by Her, of being called a good slut by Her, of seeing Her joyful smile, of being allowed to make Her cum explosively and often, and of being the lucky scratching post She so often sharpens Her claws upon.When she is at Her harshest and cruelest and most vindictive, when Her heart is hard and Her eyes are stern and Her commands are full of venom, when his screams and blubbers and whimpers are full of agony, when his cries of mercy are drenched with anguish, when he can do no right and Goddess will tolerate no wrong, those are the times that he adores Her the most. That's how She allows him to give Her the most. That's when She reaches inside him, rips out his beating heart, and consumes it whole as he watches with glee. Goddess will plant in him the seed of a new heart. Her painslut knows this from experience. As it grows, She will tend to it and nurture it and train it and punish it fiercely and grind it to dust and call it back to life and shower it with rage, and then hold it and comfort it while its agonies collect on its cheeks and evaporate into tomorrow's tender rains. This squirming little bit of nothing knows he doesn't deserve Her. He is not worthy of living in the same universe Her. But She allows it, and He adores Her for it.  

Wow   For the first time in a while, I received an email that made me smile. This is what I'm talking bout! The grammar and punctuation were off, but that's ok. The words were honest, sincere, and authentic. Yes, it was poorly crafted, but it was the best thing I read all day!    PEGSTRESS IS PLEASED!

August 22, 2024 - Pennsylvania Red and something new !       Pennsylvania Red came over for a visit. I recently thought about how I give my guys their nicknames. In this case, his name on one of the hookup sites has the word "RED"in it, and he drives all the way from Pennsylvania. So, today we're talking about "Pennsylvania Red."   Today I was wearing only a jockstrap when he arrived. He stripped in the garage, with the garage door standing wide open. He put his clothing in a milk carton near the entrance door to the house. The milk carton case has a sign on it saying, "Useless pieces of human flesh should strip naked and leave their clothing here before coming inside."   As expected, he came in completely naked. I was leaning back in my chair watching porn and I beckoned him over where he got a nice whiff of my nasty dirty jockstrap. I told him to lick my cock through the jockstrap. Eventually I pulled my cock out the side of the jockstrap and started forcing him deep onto my cock. I laughed each time he gagged.   After a while of having my cock sucked in my lounge chair, I said let's set upstairs where I can be more comfortable. I laid on my back in bed and tucked my cock back inside the nasty jockstrap. He started licking and chewing at my cock through the dirty jockstrap. Eventually I pulled it to the side again so he could suck on my cock again. I grabbed him by the back of the head and pushed him down deep on my cock. He was having a good day at cocksucking. I was definitely enjoying it. Occasionally I would lock my hand behind his head and buck my hips up into his throat. I could feel his slobber and drool coating the jockstrap and my balls. This was great, add some more scent to the jock strap for the next guy.   I just laid back and enjoyed him working on my cock. It felt wonderful. I reached up and grabbed my camera and snapped a few pictures of his mouth bobbing up and down on my cock. He wasn't wearing a hood today so I can't share those pictures, but I do enjoy viewing them privately.   At this point my head was at the top of the bed, my feet at the bottom. He was at the bottom of the bed facing upward toward my cock. I wanted to play with his ass so I told him to shift around to the side, still kneeling on the bed, with my cock in his mouth. I wanted to make his ass available to my right hand. He knows that I love to play with his ass. When he suckis sucking my cock, there is nothing more fun than digging and grinding in his ass with my fingers. I keep forgetting to bring a fuck toy to bed with me. Next time I'm going to have to fuck him deep and hard with a rubber toy, maybe even a vibrating toy, as he sucking and choking on my cock.   I put some lube on my fingers and found his hole. It was tight as usual. But I sunk two fingers as deep as I could into his ass with a quick thrust. He let out a muffled howl on my cock as I assaulted his hole. I started fucking his ass with my fingers quite rapidly. And without warning I slipped a third finger in. He wasn't lubed or loose enough for the addition of the third finger and he let out quite a yelp. I yanked my fingers out and shoved two back in him. I quickly found his prostate again and started harassing it with my fingers. I took my left leg and looped over the back of his neck and used my leg muscles to trap my cock in his mouth. I started finger fucking his ass hard again. He was whimpering. I was being rough today. I loved it. I'm not sure if his whimpering sounds were good or bad but I didn't care.   With my leg looped up over his neck trapping him onto my cock, I started swatting his ass with my greasy hand. It made hard contact. I switched from one cheek to the other knowing that they were stinging and turning red with each additional smack. In this position his hole was still spread wide open as I smacked his ass. So occasionally, between smacks, I would shove my fingers up into his ass, just to hear him grunt and then I would start spanking him again.   Then instead of spanking him on the left cheek or the right cheek, I smacked him right on his hole. He let out a painful moan. It made my cock throb inside his mouth. My leg was still latched over his neck so he couldn't get away from me even though he tried. I smacked right onto his tender hole over and over. Smacking a few times and then finger fucking him. Smacking a few times and finger fucking him hard and deep again and again.   I relaxed my leg and let him come up for some air as I got that third finger back into his ass. As he was gulping for air trying to catch his breath, he was almost crying from the pain of the third finger in his hole. But I was in "a mood," I really didn't care, not at all. I was enjoying it today.   READ THE ENTIRE STORY AT  HTTPS://SirKel.top

Hmm let's see it is now 2022, so a lot have time has passed between my last real post. So many things have gone on in my life since then. In 2019 I took part in the World Transplant Games in the UK. That was a hell of a trip. Spent a few days in London, then went north to Yorkshire, to the land of James Herriot, Castle Howard, and my friends farm. I spent 5 days helping take care of their herd of pigs. Can't wait to go back. I return to London for my last 9 days and ate great food, saw amazing things, and got to see New Japan Pro Wrestling do their first show in England. Got home just before second year started. my next games are next year in Perth Australia. I will be cycling I will have a 5k time trial, a 20km team time trial, and another 30k time trial. Boy my legs are going to hate me. I had a pair of custom painted shoes done just for the games. I am hoping to be able to get a racing suit and a helmet wrapped in the same pattern.  i am hoping to spend a bit of time in Tokyo on my way to Australia. Maybe spend 5 days. 

Update! 3/2022 *** I don't bother to respond to "Hi" "How are you" and similar one liners. I get too many to bother. I'm currently open to and - if not actively - perhaps somewhat lazily (as in waiting for one to fall into My lap) seeking a great second male submissive. I'm open to the RIGHT person and situation. I don't check this site frequently though as I'm busy and it's frankly easier for me to wait for mail to accumulate. I have previously been in and enjoy an mFm hinge type triad and I've had 2 live-in submissives in a relationship. One moved / things happened, what can you do? I like to let relationships develop naturally into whatever they are meant to be, so I'm not saying I'm looking for live-in just that it once worked out well and was a dynamic that suited Me / us. Now, WAIT WAIT WAIT - Don't start writing yet.  In the interest of full disclosure - I already have a collared boy. (Who is NOT bisexual so, there will be no forced bi in my household). He's just not going anywhere. SO! You must be poly or open to exploring poly. I am not the jealous type and I expect that to be true of you as well. If that's not going to work for you and you're looking for long term monogamy - I am NOT the Lady for you. YOU MUST BE: LOCAL or WILLING TO RELOCATE. Sometimes it can work if you're able to travel frequently, and air travel obviously shrinks distances, so this isn't a 'hard limit' ;) ATTRACTIVE & FIT (as in, no stranger to the gym, you know what olympic lifting is, and maybe you even like the occasional crossfit workout. You appreciate words like 'vascularity' and 'striations' and you know how to make a mean protein shake. Brainy AND Brawny - we can figure out the fetish connection and likes/dislikes IF we actually connect on any other level. I don't JUST want to beat the snot out of you, I want to like you, find you intriguing, engaging and attractive...and THEN beat the snot out of you. Just kidding...mostly.  POLY or OPEN to the IDEA of being poly.  You are a stable, rational adult who just happens to crave more than a vanilla relationship can give you...but you are capable of managing your own life and pursuits...and at the end of the day, you would love to lay all that control at the right Woman's feet.  You HAVE A PICTURE. Let's be honest, this will never work without attraction, so...  Just a HINT - you will do WAY better with Me if you put a little bit of effort into your reply, 'I'm interested' or similar one liners don't exactly endear you to Me. Asking if I'm interested in X when I've clearly stated in My profile that I am (or am not) - grrr. If you're far away you'd better be telling me about your family who lives nearby, plans and ability to visit, or remote work capability - otherwise WHY are you writing from WAY OVER THERE? Tell Me what you're ultimately looking for or have failed to find and what you think you can offer in a relationship to a Woman (that is NOT code for money, you cynic) - what do you see your ideal situation and future looking like - what would make you so content - so happy? What future seems out of reach now but would be just what you would be afraid to hope for if you could have it? Have you ever connected with a Dominant Woman via Kink AND outside that arena?

STRANGE FRUIT 2026 A PIECE I WROTE ABOUT ALL THE BULLSHIT GOING ON THIS COUNTRY STILL.   SEEMS LIKE WE ARE STILL HUNGRY FOR MORE STRANGE FRUIT . EVEN IN 2026 THE VULTURES HUNGER FOR THE SWEET FLESH SLOW HANGING ON THE VINE . AS THE BIRDS GATHER AND FIGHT FOR THE TASTE OF THE FIRST MORSEL . BUT THIS FRUIT IS NOT AS SWEET AS IT SEEMS BECAUSE UNLIKE TRUE FRUIT THIS DOESNT HAVE THAT SWEET TASTE THEY NORMALLY CRAVE. THIS FRUIT HAS ALWAYS HAS BEEN POISONED FROM THE ROOT TO SOUL I MEAN SOIL , IT GROWS FROM.THE GROUND SOAKED WITH CENTURIES OF BLOOD, PAIN,AND HATE. A BREEDING GROUND WHERE NOTHING THAT IS MEANT TO THRIVE GROWS DESPITE ALL THE BIRDS AND ANIMALS MEANT TO CUT ITS LIFE SHORT AND STUNT ITS GROWTH .THIS FRUIT THAT HAS BEEN BRED THROUGH YEARS, DECADES AND CENTURIES OF BLOOD , HATE, AND DEATH. BUT THIS FRUIT RESILIENT . GROWN UNDER THE PRESSURE OF OPPRESSION AND BEATENED DOWN. EVERYTIME THIS FRUIT BEGINS TO FLOURISH AND STARTS TO GROW TOWARDS THE SUN. THE CROWS START TO GATHER AND THE MOUTHS START TO WET, AS THEY STARE IN RAVENOUS HUNGER AT THE DELICIOUS FRUIT, WITH ITS SWEET NECTAR SLOWLY DRIPPING TO THE GROUND. THIS FRUIT THAT ALL THE CROWS AND CROWDS OBSESSED OVER, DID ANY EVERYTHING TO GET THEIR CLAWS ON. THE MOMENT THEY OBTAINED THIS FORBIDDEN FRUIT THEY CELEBRATED BY RIPPING APART THE FLESH . GOBBLING UP ITS SWEET BUT BITTER FLESH RELISHING IN THE EXCTASY . THIS RARE DELICACY THAT HAS BEEN GROWN AND PICKED FOR HUNDREDS OF YEARS. EVEN THROUGH THE ROUGHEST OF CONDITIONS FROM EXTREME DROUGHT TO DROWING IN THE JUICES OF THE OTHER FRUIT THAT WAS LEFT HANGING ON THE VINE .YOU CAN FIND THIS FRUIT YEAR ROUND .THIS RARE FRUIT ON THE VINE EVEN IN THE HARSHEST WINTER. STILL HANGS AND SWINGS IN THE BREEZE. THIS BEAUTIFUL RARE FRUIT THAT THEY ALL CRAVE. COMES IN SEVERAL VARIETIES. PICKED AT DIFFERENT STAGES SOME PICKED BEFORE THEY WERE MATURE OTHERS LATER IN THEIR GROWTH CYCLE.THIS FRUIT THAT COMES IN MANY VARIETIES. LIKE A YOUNG 21 YEAR I MEAN DAYS OLD VARIETY CALLED KYLE, OR A 31 AGED VARIETY CALLED DAPHY. FOR THOSE WITH MORE MATURE TASTES THEY ALSO HAD A VARIETY CALLED NURUL. BUT IF THOSE VARIETIES DONT INTEREST YOU I'M SURE If WE TURN OUR HEADS AND WAIT. A BRAND NEW YOUNG FRUIT WILL APPEAR. FRESH ON THE LINE I MEAN VINE. YOU WILL KNOW ITS THIS SPECIAL FRUIT. BY THE GATHERING OF THE CROWS. LISTEN YOU CAN HEAR THEM HUNGRILY CALLING. CAU CAW!

    Desire fires: a machine gun Turning love to hate. You could never Be my mate... Tears fall, heart aches. i poison myself Day after day till  Pneumonia hits In ways You never did. Grief buries feeling, As i cleanse, Breath by breath, Coughing sadness Till life deceives, yet i defy death And hate, For God knows As i let go In prayer, love feeds What love makes.   6/14/24    

just noticed they finally brought journals back, so I thought I would take advantage... What is your purpose of being online?  Mine is simple, to get to know others in the lifestyle, to see if any can not only meet my expectations of as ub slave but also understand how they can fit in my busy life. If I need to invest MY time into fulfilling your online fantasies, then I am simply not getting anything of value out of speaking with you.  it is one thing to discuss limits and interests, to gauge compatibility,  it is another to feed your fantasy with no return for my pleasure... at least that is not for me.   Still think you're here for the same reasons as myself?  Great, but here's the thing, would you walk into a job interview unprepared? Similarly,  why approach a Domme if you are not prepared... mentally or physically. I don't expect much from those who message me, atleast not in the beginning, but I do expect you to know why you are here, that you are prepared to speak, with the hopes of serving, and that you are honest and forthcoming, not just with Me, but with yourself. So, why are you here?

1. In your first message don't say something like. " Hi how are you doing?" and that is your only message/words.  I won't even answer that. Be more upfront.  2. Please understand here is what I am NOT looking for    A. Not looking for someone that is married   B. Not looking for a weekend here and there   C. Not looking for someone that drinks, smokes and addicted        to drugs. (herb is ok)   D. Not looking to change your diapers   E. Not looking for attention seekers or someone high           maintance   F. Not looking for someone that is new and looking for     someone to train it (unless your ready to go full in)    G. I'm not a Pro and I'm not looking to play games.   H. Not looking for someone that isn't willing to better themselves   I. In general I'm not looking for a city person that is afraid to get dirty.    J. I'm not " needy " I'm more interested in finding a service slave/sub.   K. I'm not interested in seeing your ass pictures.  I'll probably add more to this list later. But HOPEFULLY you read this and don't bother writing if ...your not what I'm looking for. I try to make things simple and to the point.  p.s. I'M NOT LOOKING FOR A DOM.  I PROMISE YOU I WILL NEVER BE YOUR SUB OR SLAVE. I'm not an egotistic person and I do my share of what needs to be done around here. I  believe in harmony. 

Someone male on the other kink site was talking about dating as a market, and when the "dick is plentiful" comment came up as a point of why it doesn't "sell" he got a bit butthurt.  When someone else tried to point out that dicks are generally attatched to men, and so the problem wasn't the dicks but the men they are attatched to, the quality of which vary a lot, he said "In general, a shirt is not necessarily better than another shirt"Which granted, is absolutely in my wheelhouse to respond to with an informed opinion, so this was my comment.   "Actually, as someone with an education in fashion merchandising/design, and as a costumer, I can say that is not at all accurate. Quality is an easily defined set of properties, such as the tye of materials used, workmanship, colorfastness of dye, functionality of design, etc and varies HUGELY from one shirt to the next. Which is why a shirt from the dollar store may be good enough for a few months, but may soon start to pull apart at the seams, or fade, or wear through, or shrink and become misshapen, etc. whereas a shirt that looks similar from a better manufacturer may last for years and still look fine. I have several shirts my Dad wore for years before he died, which I have now worn as an overshirt for gardening, etc for the two decades since.  I have also bought similar looking shirts new at Walmart and they fell apart within a couple years.   Quality matters. Being an educated consumer matters. Learning to recognize quality, and what to look for before you purchase is the difference between having to replace said shirts frequently, vs keeping something you like for as long as you want it, and possibly even passing it on if you no longer need it.   The same can be said for partners.  So it's important to understand what quality is in people, as well as shirts, and learn how to spot it and the lack of it, and learn to take your time shopping to avoid buyer's remorse. Or even debt and bad contracts...   "Maybe there are fuckbois who one can easily replace if that's what your view of men on average is." Exactly. There are fuckbois, and posers, and trash toys, and upstanding quality men. There are men who do the work to become better, to do the right thing, to play fair and self-manage, etc, and men that just wanna get dat dick wet. There are pretty people, plain people,  low quality people, high quality people, people who are pretty and cheap, people who are less pretty but quality, and vice versa.  You either learn to appreciate quality over superficial properties, or you bounce from crap to crap to crap, always wondering why nothing is ever as good as it looks and everything starts SO nice but never lasts.   As to what market? Dating is advertizing, more than anything.  You have what you have, and they have what they have, and you have to figure out what you want, and how to trade what you have for what you want. Fortunately, you can add to what you have in lots of ways, if what you want is out of reach at a given time. Learn new skills - dancing cooking, massage, etc. Dress better, spiff your appearance. Read books on relationships. Hit the gym. But you have to find out what THEY want, figure out if you can provide it (or are willing to lie about it, as many do) and then learn to explain how what you have will provide what they want.   As someone once said - you don't sell shovels, you sell holes.  "A customer’s ultimate goal is not a product but a change and improvement to their life. "   A man should not try to sell his dick to a woman.  Dicks are EVERYWHERE.  There are literally stores full of dicks that don't even require another person.  No matter how amazing a guy's dick is, I can go buy one better, and not have to bother with having a guy and what he wants attatched.   So, what a man needs to sell is *orgasms*.  And if he wants to be more than just a one-off, he needs to sell the aweome fun before and after the sex.  A submissive man needs to sell how he will make a Domme's life easier and more comfortable. A Dominant man needs to sell how safe and valued his sub will feel.   Sell the value point - how having whatever you are selling will improve the potential buyer's experience. Will is lessen the workload? Provide pleasure?    Increase security? Create comfort? Ease pain? Improve something they already enjoy?    THOSE are what need to be in someone's profile and first emails if they want to find their "market share" and get what they want here.

What's odd to me are the lack of guys who drive,vhave a car, want to go to fetish clubs to be played with who are are submissive NOT submission fetishishists and NOT kink dispenser chasers. A submissive wants to please me first A submissive knows if I am giving time and play energy he gives his time and energy to please me, therefore we are both giving. A fetish dispenser chaser is in gimme mode.  A submissive guy who's first topics are not kink and has experience in a Dominant Woman/submissive man relationship with kink mixed in. Frustrating that I feel the need to spell this out after I was asked what a FLR was. <--- yup not experienced guy asking, bye bye.

The Final Touches   She had been sent here for the final touches, she was now old enough to be taught what would be expected of her. Dressed in official school attire she looked resplendent in her pleated skirt, white blouse, short white socks and lace up shoes. Her hair was up in a pony, as she had been told was the custom. Outside the principal's office the hallway was deserted, everyone else had gone for the day. The school secretary sat behind her desk filling out some tedious form or other, she didn't look away from her work, leaving Tara to look her up and down. Late 40s she guessed, maybe early 50s, blonde shoulder length hair, formally dressed, lipstick seemed a little red and garish for the setting but it certainly caught the eye. Time passed slowly. She wasn't sure how long she had been there and the clock on the wall seemed to tick at a glacial pace. "In my office Ms Tara", she heard a deep voice say from behind the door. As she tried to get her bearings the secretary looked at her, "Well? Don't keep him waiting girl." She grabbed her purse and hurriedly walked to the door, then stopped. Deep breath, focus, she took a brief second to adjust herself, and opened the door. "Hello Mr ..." she started to say "You address me as Sir, just Sir" came a response that cut her off abruptly "Hello Sir" she replied "Come in". He gestured to the front of his desk.  She moved to sit down but realised there was no chair, it had been pushed back against the far wall. "You can stand" he said, without any sense or irony knowing it was her only option. "Feet apart 30cm, hands behind your back, stand straight girl" He picked up the cane that she hadn't noticed laying across the desk, and walked slowly behind her. Gently he tapped the inside of each calf. "30cm girl. You have been sent here for finishing touches, not the basics" She shuffled a bit in place until her cunt was just open enough to tell her that her feet were 30cm apart. "Much better Ms Tara. Work on your basics or we will have to send you to one of the junior classes with the new girls" She could feel herself clenching as she had been taught to do, his cane slowly slid up the inside of her thigh until it was touching her bare cunt. She could feel him gently pulling on it, and as it slid through her lips she clenched tightly. For a second she held the cane firm, she knew he would be pleased with how tight she had gripped it. But he would be even more pleased at how easily it slipped out of her grip when she flooded a moment later. He walked slowly in front of her. "Good girl" he said, "Not a complete beginner then" He slowly pulled the cane across her blouse, across her nipples, cleaning her juices off his cane, and highlighting both hard nipples clearly through the damp circles on the thin top. "There girl, when you are aroused it is good to show it" And by whatever God was willing to listen right now, she was aroused "Thank you Sir", she proudly said

I am worth more than the sum of this profile.  I  love dogs, have a smart mouth and take delight in making someone I care for laugh. I am not perfect .I believe in being transparent.

PUNISHMENT Punishment in BDSM is a consensual practice between adults who engage in relationships of domination and submission. However, it is important to remember that BDSM is based on the principle of safety, consensuality, and respect. Before engaging in any type of punishment game, it's critical to set clear boundaries and communicate openly and honestly with your partner. In the context of BDSM, punishment can be used as a form of erotic play and can range from mild physical punishment, such as whipping or whipping, to psychological punishment, such as verbal humiliation or deprivation of certain pleasures. The purpose of punishment can be recreational, to generate sexual arousal, or as a way to reinforce roles of dominance and submission within the relationship. It is important to note that punishment in the context of BDSM must always be consensual and negotiated in advance between the parties involved. Both parties should agree on boundaries, and safety signs, and establish a safe word to stop the activity if necessary. In addition, it is essential that punishment is carried out safely and permanent injury or damage is avoided.  Remember that BDSM is based on consent and mutual respect, so it's critical to maintain open communication with your partner and make sure both parties enjoy and feel safe during any punishment game. It is always advisable to educate yourself about BDSM practices, seeks reliable information, and consult with experienced people in the community before embarking on these types of activities.

It's Bewildering. So, I'm absolutely bewildered by a certain female submissive that adds me to their friends list, AND adds me to their favourites, but doesn't answer any messages, then deletes the last message without even reading it! Can anyone explain that to me? Is there really that many females on this site that really are a waste of time? I mean why would you do all that if you've no intention of communicating? Does my profile make me look strict and scary? I really am not. I'm a genuine, nice, easy going person who'll chat to anyone. The only time I'm strict and scary is when I'm dealing with a bratty or disobedient sub or slave. Anyway, rant over lol. If any subs do like the sound of my profile please chat to me. You never know I might be just what you're looking for.

Hello, I was bored so I took some time to go state by state and look at the basic category of profiles at appealed to me. There is quite an ecliptic number of very interesting people with truly Kink-based desires.  A thought-provoking side issue was that either the website is randomly broken or people who are in many cases requiring complete honesty are not quite providing it. There is a mileage indication on many of the profiles which is the distance from where I am located to where they are.  I'll use Dallas as an example, it is approximately 1300 miles from Los Angeles. Amazingly many profiles had distances in the low hundreds of miles to nearly double the 1300 miles.   It is thought-provoking that's for sure. 

Miss May's Confessional is now open...   "Do not forgive me Miss May, for I've been a bad boy and I plan to do it again..."   This is a call to all my pervy pals to come forward and entertain me with whatever naughty diversions you've been having, real or imagined. Brag about your recent sexual escapades or confess your impure thoughts (especially regarding me <3 ).  If you're lucky I might be into it too and want to join in on your fun... Seriously, I'm as depraved as you are and your fantasies delight me! And don't worry, my sweets, your kinky confessions are confidential.   On a related note, some of you are mistaken about what the free version of femdom offers. You're here for my entertainment, not the other way around, and you'll get from me what you put in. Be interesting, be open, be willing to figure out how to stroke my ego, and then I'll play with you. I'm not going to coax it out of you either, and expect to have your persistence tested. Don't be too proud to double message me if you think your last message got overlooked. I do make an effort to respond but life does happen.    And finally, thank you to you lovely gentlemen who admire me, check in on me, and wish me well. Your compliments and attention are much appreciated <3   -MM 

I have been on weight watchers for a few years, and I am happy to report I have lost 100 POUNDS!!!!  I have more to go,. I would love to find someone that is also working to lose weight and be in better shape or someone that has and knows what it takes. Even better would be to have a friend to go walking with and support each other. having the other person be dominant would be even better to give me a push or a pull on the leash. 

I want to roleplay as a cheerleader. You command me to cheerlead for you as you play a sport in front of a crowd.  However before I go out there you force me to wear clamps on my nipples, embrassing panties and stick a dildo in my pussy. As I try to cheer, you turn on the vibrator in the dildo and make me drip my juices while making it impossible for me to cheer properly Then when you lose you take me to the locker room, tell me I lost because of my useless cheer leading, while taking the dildo and pumping it in my.pussy while against a locker You then take out your cock and slowly pull out the dildo, but then give me no tike.to.rest as you shove your cock in me. You take out your frustrations on me while im in bliss while holding my pompoms, and cheering your cock. Your teammates then come in looking defeated and as they see us they join in to get their frustration out. The entire team then take their cocks and shower me in their juices while I wave my pompoms and my cheerleading out turns from red to white. You then put me back in your sports bag while im in estacy and say that you're going back to train me again so the team doesnt lose again.

  Service is my reward - Earn it.   Devotion is my duty - Provide it.    Submission is my purpose - Live it and Embrace it.  

I've recently had the chance to think about TPE more, and I decided that there are ultimately four types, three of which I consider acceptable. In order of intensity, there is first the type, which is simply pushing past where a sub/slave would normall safeword, but not pushing so far that the subconcious is actually forced to acknowledge that they are not in control. This is a stage where a slave is usually begging or angry. The second is the type that I practice currently. Pushing past where people think their limit is, past the second limit where their subconscious gives and realizes that it can only endure, but not going past the last one. The one that makes the mind retreat and can cause trauma. I just brush up against it. The third is when someone deliberately breaks through that last barrier, repeatedly doing so in order to shape the slave into what they desire, using that shaping to subsume other desires and wants, to change who they are at the core level. This is acceptable when a Master has the time, will, and facilities to manage fully breaking a slave, and a slave has agreed beforehand. The last is just the territory of psychopaths, just breaking for the sake of breaking, to do as much damage as possible, and only for their own amusement.

i cant I cant take it any longer i want to behave and make him proud but the walls i have built to hide my emotions to protect myself from being hurt i cant take it i have known him 11 years and i cant take it any longer i am getting mentally exhausted i cant do it any longer im about to crash and burn i know you will be there for me but truth be told the walls are up so i dont get hurt i love you so fucking much and i dont want it to end i know you always say i wont be replaced and that calms me a little but its still in the back of my head i cant take it any longer what can i do i dont want these walls up but i know ill become emotionally wreck i have all these feelings and i know once the walls fall again i will need you more than ever before these emotions i have been hiding will come out are you ready for that?

This is my kind of Dominance     The Equalitarian Dom: Is one who controls by teaching, mentoring, and leading. This Dominant knows that when he finds a comparable submissive that things will happen as a natural progression of the interaction. Usually just a short learning phase is required to receive the correct response from the submissive. Both the Dom and the sub “get it”, there is very little need for so called “training” and they naturally know what the other needs and is looking for.       The Dominant does not like the situation of constantly repeating and forcing a particular behavior (submission) to occur. Besides the activities (sexual and others) it is the surrender as a result of the Domination that is the ive and enjoyment. Creativity is an important part of this situation. They tend to intellectualize and be more into the philosophical and psychological mechanisms of this life style. They understand the concepts and resultant interactions and can put it into real life. They do not need many rules like the Democratic type, nor do they like the heavy S&M activities of the Authoritarian, preferring submission to occur as a result of an instilled desire in the submissive to surrender. She “wants” to submit as a result of the Dominant’s knowledge and skill in dominating her.     Sensuousness is the rule. Pain is given and received as a form of sensuous stimulation. Light pain as opposed to severe. Sensuous torture is a popular activity in this area. Both the Dominant and the submissive must naturally be this way. These are the people who will claim to be “born that way”. They fully understand the concept of D/s, it comes to them naturally and easily. They attract a submissive that truly and naturally desires to please and who will observe and sense what it is that the Dominant is communicating;

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

Atlantic Sleep Token    Call me when they bury bodies underwaterIt's blue light over murder for meCrumble like a temple built from future daughtersTo wasteland when the oceans recede Marry in the morning, earn your bitter fatherIt's easier to try not to eatSo flood me like Atlantic, bandage up the trenchesAnything to get me to sleep I woke up surrounded, eyes like frozen planetsJust orbiting the vacuum I amThey talk me through the damage, consequenceAnd how it's a pain they know they don't understand Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedsideI'm trying not to crush into sandSo flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothingWash away the blood on my hands Call me when they bury bodies underwaterIt's blue light over murder for meCrumble like a temple built from future daughtersTo wasteland when the oceans recede Don't wake meDon't wake meDon't wake me upDon't you wake (don't wake me) me upDon't wake meOh (don't wake me up)  

I'm not quite sure how this site works or where this post will show up, but I'm up late and wondering....another post got me thinking, and I'm off on a tangent. I guess I'm trying to make a shift from my vanilla life to this new and exciting life. The vanilla life is easy, I guess, kinda, I can have sex, yay, it's easy, I can lie and say I like it, I want to be with you, and have a relationship. But all the time my brain, and penis, knows better, I'm thinking how I can convert you to be my perfect kinky partner. I CAN'T. I KNOW! FU#K! So now what? I'm tired of lying, feeling guilty. Virginisinism sounds good for now I guess.

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

Theres a huge huge difference between people who do things for you because they have to, through obligation manipulation coercion threats or whateverVersus people who do things for you simply because they adore you and want you to be happyThe 1st set are worthless to MeThe 2nd ... Priceless Not saying I don't enjoy enticing puppeting manipulating coercing even mindfkg .. bc I absolutely do!!  In fact I used to find subliminal manipulation and blatant MindFucks particularly entertaining..  allatime everywhere lol weg But only for Funsies with wellbonded friends at the Trust level of ConsensualNonconsent .. which I had with so many onceupon.  Good times!! But so many relocated .. and too many passed, sobs .. venues closed, everythings Different, the World has Changed ..as it always does, and as must I, again. Ik Ik. "The best way to predict ones future is to create it."    Shame Quality Muses seem superscarce this decade. ah well. Def past time to explore new Hunting Grounds irl .. nilla and alt .. hmm believe theres an alt party 12 16 somewhere .. 

this site doesn't want me to be great. it keeps cutting off my piece i'm trying to share and it's not even as lengthy as other works i've written. oh well, can't stop won't stop. is the 5th upload attempt the charm instead of the 3rd? let's see if it cuts it off in this format.   Wavy Baby: Sirenade, The Lullaby of Power, Love, and Connection this song is excellence. it provides nuturing in such a cool and curated vibe. it's an updated lullaby in a song. it's a shh shh shh whisper hug in an art deco haute couture framework. this song could be so many versions. it could be a connection to spirit and the water goddesses since it is sirenade...serenade as a siren.....it could be a song for women connection to other women. but my focus here is always about the power dynamic. in that context i hear it in two ways..it could be the submissive woman singing to the man. in the first part...it could be then the man reciprocating in the other half after the mermaid season breakdown. it could be a segment i don't talk about often due to my complete inexperience of being able to attempt this to happen for me but what exists, the daddy through the dominant woman...be it a more butch or masculine or gender fluid et all woman....or a femme woman...because similar to submissive daddy men, the feminine presenting and aligned woman that is a daddy is often overlooked...but they have and do exist for long periods of time as well.... i feel contextually given the singer is a woman it makes more sense for it to be sung for the submissive woman straight up from the dominant daddy woman's perspective in that relationship. but i feel all those apply. her cover says love is war and i've experienced that. but something in me knows it doesn't have to be...and while not getting there can be emotionally, mentally, spiritually hard..the actions of avoiding it being a war are quite easy. be ready to burn everything and anything that doesn't serve your highest good for the good of the third energy, the relationship. burn like a phoenix, shinier, brighter, more you, and more elevated. over and over between the dance of you and your beloved. claim them and hold on for the ride knowing your life partner is there along with you birthing this new you this new union.....the rollercoaster inside will eventually subside and when you don't make love war, you always have your emotional/mental/spiritual/sexual/physical/financial partner there with you step by step into the challenges of life by you. i see and have only experienced what happens when the other person can't go through the fire. and i have experienced only the love is war. but i see it in others all around me online, offline, before social media, after social media. love doesn't have to be war if both parties or if polyamorous all parties don't let it. "Wavy, baby Baby, baby, baby Yeah" iamddb says, 'urban jazz'...but it sounds vocally like 'harbinger'...and that mishear nuance the way she pronounces it adds another layer to this chicly crafted lullaby. "har·bin·ger/ˈhärbənjər/nounnoun: harbinger; plural noun: harbingers a person or thing that announces or signals the approach of another."witch hazels are the harbingers of spring"Similar:heraldsignindicatorindicationsignalpreludeportentomenauguryforewarningpresageannouncerforerunnerprecursormessengerusheravant-courierforetoken