She knew she looked good. The men at the bar thought so too! Who would it be?   She picked up her hand bag and slowly made her way to the ladies room.     She admired her mirror image. She freshened her perfume and lipstick. Tugged her skirt into place. Washed her hands.   Her heels clicked on the tiled floor. Heads turned. Letting her leather jacket fall open she leaned forward at the bar. Her full figure bottom was attractive under the skirt. Accentuated and flared by her corset. Bar napkins in one hand,  bowl of mixed nuts in the other, she clicked back to her seat on the couch.   She leaned back in her seat. Closed her eyes. Smiling to her self, she dangled her shoe. The music filled her breasts. They heaved in their confinement. Opening her eyes, a very young and very handsome man in a black suit had slid from the bar and hovered at her table, two drinks in hand.

I have had a few people get annoyed or mad at my personality so I am posting this Here are some thing I am just going to address (These are paraphrased)   "Wow you say your a sub but you dont act submissive at all #notarealsub" Yes I am submissive, my personality is cold/distant and I get most people are not ok with that. I am not going to just go "UwU master pwease let me submit 2 ur budlgie wulgie" cause that is not my personality at all. If I vibe well with someone then ya I am ok with concenting to have them dominant me by forcing me to submit.   "You dont seem interested in talking to me" Ya I am not interested in talking to anyone and on top of that I try and respond in as little words as possible. I am will chat but I am not a social person so I will come off as such.   "your personality is trash and you should act more cute" No if someone isnt cool with how I am then I wont be changing. (Of course I do change things but only unhealthy things not my standard personality)   "You should change how you dress and look more feminine" Nope, I will dress how ever I please and wont be changing that ever.   "Why wont you meet me" I dont really like being around people so it is rare when I do meet anyone.   "You sholdnt say you dont like kissing or being close to someone" I really really hate the feeling of being close or intamte with someone so sorry not happening   "You should meet me I am a good person" If you have to say you are a good person then I say that is a red flag

Yes, age is just a number.  My husband was 12 years older than me, so it is a number that had never really bothered me.  That being said... Age is a real thing.  We all have baggage and being a widow is (just some) of mine.  You will have to accept I am not a divorcee, I will always speak lovingly of my past husband as he is not an "ex" and I have experienced a decade of being a caretaker for an older man.  That season of life is done.  This is my season to be cared for.  Call me selfish, call my bias, call me whatever... but this is the baggage I carry, these are my scars.  I am truly grateful for all the mail I have gotten from the 60+ something crowd... but I can be nothng but honest and say, it isn't going anywhere, no matter how great we get along...  Age IS more than just a number... It is deteroration of your kidney's, and heart, and liver.  It is break down of your joints, it is restless legs, and trouble with the lungs... I  am glad you eat great and hit the gym every day... that right there makes us total opposites for the vanilla side of life... 

Another ridiculous story you just can't make up, this really happened last night. So. Like most people, I drive to and from work five days a week. I take the same route. I'm not great with directions so while I know a few other ways to get there in theory, I stick with this one way. I had made plans to go out with a colleague friend last night and we were going to meet back at work where she would pick me up and she would do the driving. Perfect. I get back to work, we go out, have a great time, she drops me off at my car at 11:45. I head home the usual way, it should take about a half hour. Only there's construction and an accident and it's jammed beyond belief. So I follow a couple of cars who got off, thinking eh, I'll pick up another road I'm familiar with. And I do. I know this road goes out in my direction so I can start there and find a cross street along the way. So I'm driving. And I'm driving. And it's now well past the thirty minute mark, I don't recognize anything, there are no lights on the road, and I have no cell service to pull up a map. But alright, I have half a tank of gas and I can figure this out. And I keep driving. For over an hour. I get to a road that I know leads me home. But which way? I make a choice and fully commit, because another half hour goes by and I still have no idea where I am, still no lights, still no cell service. I see deer and can confirm the saying about deer in headlights freezing up is accurate. Eventually I realized I made the wrong directional choice and turned around, find my way home. At 1:57. When I say I am directionally challenged, clearly I'm not kidding. 

I DO NOT AND WILL NOT GIVE MASTERS ANY SORT OF FINANCIAL DOMINATION. Had a really bad experience with a Dom who asked me for money every week, even though I told her I was getting screwed over by an airline that owed me money. If you want me to give you control over my finances please look for someone else who has that kind of stability to support you.    

Normal is Weird Normal/typical/average is relative. Normal only exists in comparison, and for anything, there's probably "somewhere" where it's "normal." This is the internet age... there is something for people who share anything in common out there somewhere, and the ability to make it if there isn't. I don't know why people sometimes get an idea of normal in their heads, putting it on a pedestal and elevating it to unattainable levels, constantly comparing and defining themselves in comparison to that concept. Stranger still, why is it that so often those ideas of normal are so damn boring?! Anything really good (or bad), anything exciting or even different at all, wouldn't be "normal." You could only be normal if you were the same as most people around you. Normal seems just some shape/box to contort myself and my life to fit into. That seems like a lot of painful effort for little to no reward. Not to metion how much of it is beyond my control. My dad was 60, my mother 30, when I was born. Totally not normal. Totally beyond my control. Totally fine... great even... they were both wonderful, amazing people who taught me a lot and gave me many happy experiences, and I value happiness. I'd much rather be happy than be normal.

Mentioning the age is off limits here but my training lasted 8 years and was my first sexual experience.  I knew I had to keep quiet about it but it was the only thing positive going on in my life in those years.  Life at home was miserable; girls weren't interested because I'm so short.  I couldn't compete in sports even if I had wanted to.  But 2 or 3 afternoons every week I learned more and more about how to overcome my height deficit and be useful and likeable for men.   From day one, it was drilled into me to keep my hands and my mind on him, not on myself.  That was the most important part when training for sexual submission.  To this day, I will not touch myself when anyone is using me.  It's all about my partner and their pleasure, about keeping all the energy moving toward them.

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

Being a Dominant is not like the military where rank assumes obedience. The “rank” of Dominant or Master is not assumed by the Dominant but bestowed by a submissive. This is important because it cuts to the heart of why a Dominant has the authority to give “orders” in the first place. A Dom only has power because he has been granted that power by the submissive. And a submissive grants that power to someone he respects, trusts, desires, and believes has his best interests at heart. He grants it to someone with whom he feels completely safe and protected. So yes, I as a Dominant do in fact give orders. But my orders are not simply motivated by desire for blind obedience but are often targeted at a higher purpose. Sure, often they are for my personal pleasure. But they are also designed to instill knowledge, establish norms of behavior, set expectations for performance, and above all, challenge my sub to be the best person he can possibly be both in and outside our relationship. They are also designed to similarly challenge me. I always strive to be a better person, a better partner, a better Dominant, and have our mutual interests always at heart. Being a Dominant is less about assuming authority than being a leader. A leader earns the right to lead. My sub gives me all the power I have as a Dominant. What I do with that power is up to me. But if I use it unwisely or selfishly, it will evaporate and my sub will opt to vote with his feet. D/s is, after all, a consensual agreement between two free persons and thus can be terminated when one or the other is not satisfied. D/s and even M/s are not true slavery, even when we choose to call it that. Ultimately, the submissive decides who will be his leader or if he will take on a leader at all. It is that decision that empowers the Dominant, and that decision is earned, not taken.

My view on men’s roles. Men are fun. I love spending time with them. What’s even better is that the worse I treat them, the more they love me. It’s like the ultimate hack. To me, men fall into two different utilitarian categories: Almost Equals:  like I said almost!!!!!men whom I fuck, often those in the top 10% of the universal cock size range. I do not date these men and simply meet them to have a good time. It is important to note that I do not submit to these men.  Inferiors: men whom I cuck, use as subs/slaves those in the bottom 90% of that same range. You are in my life for the purposes of being my cum rag,  card, and emotional tampon. I stir something inside you and make you feel more alive, even in slavery. Note how there is no superiors category. I do not believe that there is a man alive or dead who is superior to me. Women create life, men are that life, therefore man is product of woman. You cannot be superior to me because women make life. You know I speak the truth.

"First Encounter" Inner thoughts of this dom. HIM:  "Today I'm about to meet this incredibly sexy submissive ive been coveting for a while. She a cute little thing that would be perfect to join my family. I wonder how quick she will succumb to my will? What and how far will she go to be allowed to orgasm?" These as many other stray and random thought rattled their way around my mind. The excitement mounting as we were about to meet real time after a very long period of online and phone chats as we each revealed ourselves to each other. Developing what we hoped would be a meet that would cause sparks to fly within us as the anticipation had grown that seductive. I meet you at a quiet little bar. There we introduce ourselves for the first time in real life. I feel like I know so much about you after the many weeks we have spent chatting online. You are even more beautiful in person. As I hug you tightly to my body the faint whiff of your perfume entices me. I slowly slide my hands down your back as out tongues dance in our joined mouths. Working down your firm ass I can't help but squeeze your cheeks. I slight moan escapes your lips into my mouth. I disengage our lips and bring my face against your neck. Once again inhaling your perfume and freshly washed hair. As I bring one hand up to your head to hold it in place as I nuzzle your neck my other hand slides up your short dress to make sure you followed my instructions and didn't wear underwear.  I pull your head to the side by your hair exposing your neck. Like Dracula I attack your neck. Nibbling and licking it as I work my way to your naked shoulder. My other hand openly caressing your naked ass for all to see. I am so proud of her. She passingly mentioned to me that she was never into PDA nor was she much for kissing. Yet here we stood locked together mouth to mouth for all the world to see. "If only she had gotten thus kind of affection more often. Would she feel differently?" I think to myself.  She feels the cool breeze against her naked ass as I intentionally expose it. I want to see her reaction to my actions. Will she deny my? If I am to be her sir surely she will comply. She knows if she passes the tasks I will bestow upon her over the next week that she will find shelter within my arms. Secure in the fact that I will help her grow and be there to catch her when she falls. For this she will give me her mind, heart and body but eventually I want to own her soul. The pilgrimage of that honor is my quest.   HER: Feeling you lift my incredibly already short skirt and the breeze on my ass, you feel my whole body grow warm, and see the bright red spreading across my skin, as i move my hand to cover my poor ass and gs every so quietly, in your grip i do my best to turn away from the other people near by knowing i wont get far i still wiggle and whisper a quiet "Sir, theres people looking" all the whole attempting to pull the skirt back down and cover myself.  As she tries to pull back her skirt feeling humiliated and embarrassed I quietly whisper in her ear. It ok baby girl. You are beautiful scars and all. I desire to show you off. Love yourself for me.  You feel my fingers sliding between the cheeks of your ass. Relieved that this action is allowing your skirt to begin covering your nakedness. Suddenly you feel my finger tip dip between your lips that are moist from fear and excitement. The action is quick and efficient. Only lasting a split second yet the feelings it created within you may last much longer. You quickly look around to see if anyone noticed your reaction and what sir is doing to you. There at the bar is a young man. He can't be any older than 22. A grin on his face as he quickly turns away when you look his way as if you wouldn't notice the lust within his eyes. You suddenly feel wanted and desired.  Here your sir wants you and is giving you the attention you've been longing for for so long. And a man who is so young looks at you like a cougar with lust. Willing to pounce on you if he could. All these thoughts are running freely thru your tangled mind. Mixed emotions running ramped like a freed feral cat. Yet your body is betraying you with its actions. You turn suddenly away from me pulling me towards the waiting booth in the darker corner. I see the flushed look in your face. The embarrassment I have caused you. It turns me on making my cock twitch even more. The wetness I felt when dipping my finger in you showed me how your body betrays your mind. Although embarrassed you are turned on. Is it because of my actions or because you were being watched. I glance at the young man who is once again looking. I look him in the eye with alpha male intimidation that has served me well all my life. Something earned taught and released from my primal interior being from the years I spent in special forces while in the military. Something about one who has seen things that show the ugliness of man is like an imprint. Although not visible it is detected in posture. My eyes show a certain sadness but also scream that I am not one to be reckoned with. The young man immediately turns away. He picks up his beer and goes to the other end of the bar. Interpreting the unsaid message given to him by just a glare by a man more than twice his age. That instant momentarily distracts me as I faintly hear something you said but didn't fully acknowledge.  I pull you back to me. Holding you tight against my body once again. I feel your breasts pressed against my chest. Our groins mashed together as if they already know what is to come later. Anxious to get started as my cock strains against the denim of my jeans held prisoner. I whisper once again into your ear. "It's OK baby girl. I want to feel you against me for another moment.  After all these weeks you are now flesh and not just words. I nip your bare shoulder lightly with my teeth.  My tongue then flicks back and forth where my teeth once bit as if to offer a healing moment.  Unneeded tho because of the gentleness of it. Putting the smile on my face that I use for the world, the one that doesn't necessarily reach my eyes but seems to somehow charm everyone that comes in contact with.  Feeling you slide into the booth next to me, I have to concentrate so hard. In a way that I do not tense up, but keep my body relaxed. In the way "he who must not be named" showed me at all times. Afterall, no man wants to cuddle a corpse Katey! Shaking the thought from my head. I relax and let my features fall soft. Warm and welcoming. I risk a glance up from the table where my gaze has previously been focused and catch his eyes. They're peering into mine! Why on earth does it feel like he's looking straight into my soul? No one ever notices this much or pays this much attention. I know I'm cute tonight. Hell, I'm always cute. Enough cleavage showing to capture the attention of everyone in the room that has a penis and even some who don't. Why is he so focused on my eyes?  Shifting nervously but trying so hard to stay relaxed. (No one cuddles a corpse Katey!) I can't help but freeze just a bit as he grabs my hand pulling it to his face. Please don't notice the sweaty palms I chant in my head. He's going to think I'm insane or unable to show love. SHIT! What if he thinks I don't like him?  Pushing the thoughts from my head again drawing my focus back to the moment. I realize he's speaking to me. Not hearing half the words, but his eyes capturing mine again like he seems to have a talent of doing. I see a soft side in there. Someone honestly gentle.  You've seen that before too Katey! Right before the black eye my brat pipes up. Shut up it's different this time try to have faith. I zone back into his words and catch something about being his pet for the night.  About being taught new things. This stirs the curious one, the fun filled one with the will to live inside me. She gets super excited bouncing up and down like a child seeing stars for the first time. Eyes shining bright. She loves to learn new things.  All this flashes across my face before the brat hog ties her and sits her back down in the chair. For once her and I agree. Now is not the time for you to surface we're still treading new waters here. Wondering if he saw the roller coaster of emotions going through my twisted broken mind before my face settles. Back to the factory style smile and shining blue eyes all the men seem to love. I relax into his touch trying to show I'm not a mutant. Afraid I'll come off robotic. The motions coming so natural they seem programmed ( No one cuddles a corpse Katey!)  Hoping this gets past him and smile briefly hearing him say, "Tonight I own you". I reply with a sweet, "Yes Sir! I can't wait." Looking into her eyes as he holds her hand for reassurance he sees inner conflict. A turbulent turmoil of emotions taking flight within. He understands these feelings all too well. Demons that he himself has wrestled with for most of his life. His innocence stripped away from him as a delusional teenager.  His mind flashes back to the day he graduated high school. Signing his life away for the next 4yrs. Gonna be a GI! Government Issued, warrior. Right the wrongs and save the world from evil.  Yeah if only he knew who the enemy really was. How evil is everywhere in so many shapes and forms. A delusioned man child at only 18 who thought he knew it all. Quickly his mind snaps back to her. He lays her hand on his thigh and holds it there. Mere inches from his inflamed cock. Swelling that she has caused. Yes she is cute. Those beautiful braless tits on display. Just as he had instructed her to show off. Her beautiful, wanting to please, features displayed on her face. Her body, in that short dress. This too he had requested. One that could have started wars centuries ago. Her freshly washed hair with a hint of fruity smell.  My God what I want to do to that body! But no not yet! Beautiful women are a dime a dozen. That's not what I am after. I want that inner beauty I know is there hiding in fear in the darkness. Perhaps behind one too many negative experiences.  He looks at her again. Tilts his head to the side and leans in. Plants a soft kiss upon her forehead. "This is to free your mind of evil thoughts.", he tells her. Then leaving her hand on his thigh he takes hold of her head. One hand on either side and draws it to him. He kisses one eye, as her eyes instinctively closed. Perhaps out of fear. Then he kisses the other. "These are to ward off evil visions and nightmares.", he tells her. As he releases her he notices her hand is right where he left it. Is it out of fear he wonders as he glances down. Then he sees her moving her hand. Rubbing his thigh. Almost as if she is giving him a non-verbal thank you. Thanking her lucky stars she's put on her trained face. Her body falling in line with the program. This scene all well to practiced in previous encounters with other men. Her body doesn't trip her up for once. It manages to stay relaxed when he reaches for her hand placing it on his thigh.  He keeps her hand trapped under his a few moments. A feeling she's used to. The pinned down feeling. But this time something is different about it. Maybe it's the soft sweet words coming from a reassuring mouth. Instead of the normal don't move whore she was used to. Maybe its the sweet soft kisses he's laid upon her forehead or eyes. She's never felt something like this in all her years experience with men. She finds it confusing. Yet comforting. Feeling that wonder child inside stir some more before the brat slaps her in the back of the head. This is why you stay locked down. Too eager and not enough caution.  The mix of emotions inside rolling over in her mind cause an automatic reaction. The smile softens on her lips. Eyes closing just a little before she peers up at him through her lashes. His hand has moved but two things occured. One she knows never to move from a spot youve been placed unless you want the belt. Yet, a stranger feeling she's not sure she's felt before. Of not wanting to move hand this time. In fear of feeling to stiff again she lightly brushes her fingertips along his thigh. Not out of habit this time but because maybe part of her actually wanted to.  Squeezing her thighs together she notices how wet she's become. She can't understand it. Pressing them tighter in fear of leaving behind a wet spot. She can't help but think, "Where are the drinks?" His relief at feeling her hand beginning to rub his thigh is a welcome relief. Although part of him wonders. Is this just a programmed response? Is she like the many other women he has spent countless hours with chatting, exchanging photos and erotica only to vanish after the session was over.  Almost as if, they, no different than what would be considered creepy guys. They used him to flirt and arouse until they achieved their level of sexual satisfaction and then disappeared. Leading him on like a cruel joke. No he says. That's why he reminds himself, it's not about the sex.  If not to toy with him then what would a beautiful young woman see in an older man like himself. The look in her eyes as she looks at him gives him strength. He sees so much of himself in her. Scars of hurt, rejection, pain and broken promises of lost love.  Yet here I am today he says almost out loud. Daring to take each step to move forward proud and strong. To never give up and to fight whatever battle comes my way. In whatever shape or form it manifests itself. His strength comes from his confidence. A weaker man would be shy and afraid to take a chance again for fear of once again being used and rejected. Tossed aside like left over scraps. But no not me. I am a WARRIOR! I want to believe that there are still people who can love out there the way I do. It keeps my faith in humanity from being irradicated. All this swims through him as his mind processes it all with the lightning speed of a super computer. Just like his training. Compartmentalize evaluate the situation and act. It has worked for him all his life. The long pause between them like a moment of silence causes some awkwardness between them. Then he feels her rubbing his thigh harder. More confidently as if by her own attrition and not a programmed response or expectational desire. It's as if she can see him go far away and is saying, "I'm here. I want to be here and you're ok". Once again he looks into her eyes and sees something that wasn't there before. A softness. A real glitter almost as if they were smiling at him. Wanting and desiring him. His already hard cock twitches. He feels it touch against her hand from the unexpected reaction she's caused. He feels a wetness against his bare thigh as he realizes he's leaking because of her! Thoughts are interrupted as the waitress finally arrives. He orders a Sprite for himself and looks at her and asks. "What would you like beautiful?" A gentle nibble and a kiss! Her coy way of showing affection is illuminating. Her cute sense of witty humor threw him off guard but breaks a grin on his face. She has the humor in her like I do he thinks.  He turns to her and sees her sitting there hands clasped together on her lap. Legs firmly held tight as if to ward off foreign invaders and protect her real-estate.  He slowly eyes her up and down. Her breasts he notices pushed out as if she is attempting to seduce him with them. Her heavy breathing pushing them in and out each time she takes a breath.  He notices how the dress accents her features and brings out the woman in her. Good choice he thinks to himself glad that he purchased it for her and had it shipped to her. Along with the garters that hold up those incredible stockings he liked so much. As he continues down he sees the cowgirl boots as well. He noticed how well the whole outfit fit her earlier but was too enthralled with other things to notice all the details till now. Even tho they are imprinted in his mind to remember forever. Their first meet and date which if leads to what he hopes and knows she desires may be a long term relationship. He brings his eyes up and looks deep into her eyes now. He made it quite obvious that he was checking her out. He looks at her hoping that checking her out and admiring her has pleased her. Perhaps even aroused her. He leans in and plants a soft and gentle kiss on her neck again. He loves necks and shoulders. Moving to her ear as the waitress returns with their drinks He whispers. "You are sexy as fuck. Even more beautiful in person than all the pictures and videos you sent me can capture. If only you knew how much I desire you right now." The waitress places the drinks in front of them smiling as she overheard his comment. She even noticed his tongue flicker across her ear. "Would you two like anything to eat tonight?" She asks. He looks at her and grins. "On our menu" she chuckles knowing what that grin insinuated. His Katey too giggled at that. Feeling more confident in herself knowing his desire was genuine.  He laughing says. Yes please can you bring us some menus.  You obviously know what I would like as my appetizer and dessert He says to the waitress knowing she has a good sense of humor. The waitress laughs with him. I don't blame you she says. I would probably skip all of that and just have her as the main course myself..... A chuckle from in his heart surfaces itself. It's audible sound to those within earshot turn to look it is that infectious and genuine. He wraps his arm around her neck as she cuddles into him for the first time. Feeling her warmth against him he wraps his arm around her neck holding her closer to him. Enjoying how she feels. He notices and feels her hand upon his thigh. This time voluntarily and with movement of its own.  "She's a firecracker isn't she" he half asks half states to the waitress. The waitress can't help but notice in the position she is in now with her head tucked into him, his arm around her neck asnif claiming ownership that she can see right down her dress. Her beautiful breast in plain sight and her nipples hard from arousal. She sees the woman's hand move to his thigh. The action of her rubbing draws her attention to it. She notices how hard he is and how his cock is running down the inside of his thigh mere millimeters from her hand. She notices what looks to be a damp spit on his jeans. She's is mesmerized by these two as she is hypnotized by their hidden affection and the energy radiating from them. She sees her run her finger along the length of his rigid cock. Slowly methodically with purpose. This little vixen knows exactly what she is doing as she looks up at her, stares into her eyes and grins. His cock continually twitching and pulsing from her actions. His voice draws her back to reality. "Whatever she wants tonight. We are celebrating our union" he says. Then he looks down at her as she lifts her eyes to meet his. A glimmer that sparkles thru his piercing blue eyes looking deep into hers. "What would my darling pet like to eat" he softly asks her. As he waits for her reply he can't help but feel a rush running thru his body. The way she's teasing his cock on her own. She may think that he didn't notice the pixy like smile she gave the waitress who saw her doing it. As he looks down into her eyes to ask her what she would like he too notices the plunging neckline of her dress is allowing anyone above her to see her tits. He sees her nipples standing out exceptionally far and hard from the soft roundness of her breast.  It excites him making him leak once again. He can feel the wet warmth released from the eye of his cock. After asking her what she would like he gently blows down the front of her dress. His breath running down her neck across her brwasr and to her nipples. He swears it looks like they just got bigger from that. He turns to the waitress noticing she saw this too. Her reaction is priceless. Her almost hypnotic state excites him. She TOO wants and desires his little pet nestled softly and safely against him as his strong arm holds her tight. He blinks his eyes several times. The light starting to creep its way into the room is almost blinding. He rubs them trying to get the sleep out of them as he looks around and then checks out the clock. Looking down at his crotch he realizes his cock is still hard. There's even a couple wet spots on his underwear. Clearing his head he slowly gets up to go make coffee. Wow that was one hell of a dream he smiles to himself remembering it.  

AcadaMay CFNM Ladies Cocktail Party - Saturday February 121st 19.00-23.00 You may contact me here to reserve your place. Most alternative events objectify women, but there is one particular event that reverses the rôles. This is the Clothed Female, Naked Male party. CFNM by definition gives the power back!  Ladies of elegance and sophistication are cordially invited to take the opportunity to mingle with their peers whilst sipping their cocktails and enjoying the entertainment. Come & join the the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Cocktail Party for an evening with lashings of decadence. All whilst being served by underlings who will be there solely to serve and cater to our every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla party again! Ladies, this is your chance to be served by men and objectify them. CFNM includes activities that are not particularly oriented towards female dominance and superiority, but a modicum of humiliation and punishment to the nude men not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged! Gentlemen, this is your chance to parade yourself in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM.

  A Quick Disclaimer:  I don't exactly "love" some of the things I claim to enjoy, like corner-time for instance (which is dread... mostly) Corner-time is one of the things that seems particularly effective in explicitly reminding me someone else is in-charge, which weakens my knees. (Un)fortunately (for me), I also find it deeply humiliating, but *this* side-effect means it is something that gives me "the feels" too. Just 'being reminded' such things are even a possibility is enough to get a reaction from me - for a while at least So, it's not something I 100% *want*... I mean, I'd rather just be "into" stuff that I don't find quite so humiliating and that don't leave me unable to respond with a witty retort (or sometimes with Any Words At All). But things that don't embarrass me and don't trigger the push-pull (aka 'my' version of a panic-boner) don't seem to have quite the same effect It's total agony; to crave the things I dread, but it's also where I find my bliss So, I guess my attraction to the very things that especially give me "the feels" is a bit more nuanced than can be conveyed by:  X = a thing I "love", but CS doesn't have a 'push-pull'/'nutcase-option', as far as I'm aware... And though I realise the site might break as a consequence, I still wish it were possible to both love-AND-hate a single fetish, b/c that how us contradictory people tend to operate (unless I am truly an outlier-amongst-outliers, in which case... *nothing to see here* o.O)  Anyway.  ~ Thank-you for coming to my Ted Talk ~  

The Bench of Despair Not every play party I go to has the equipment I need to do my usual scene. I've been tied to crosses and Spanish horses which can be fun. I went to one dungeon and ended up doing a scene on this unusual bondage bench. This one was tall and was meant for a bottom to lean over it and be tied to it. You could say it was a spanking bench. When I saw it I imagined myself being tied to it in a back bend position instead. The scene was so hot I found the guy who made it and ordered one for me.  I called it, The Bench of Despair.  I kept it in my bedroom. It a wooden bench with a black leather covered top. There were eyebolts on the legs arranged so that any size person could be tied to it. I loved it because the top was long enough so that when I laid on it I was supported from my ass to the middle of my back. So when I did a scene on it I was tied to it in a back bend. And because it was a tall bench that meant that when I was on it, I was in the perfect position for my mouth and pussy to be used at the same time by two tops.  It is a lot of fun to be tied up in a back bend on it. I've had hot wax dropped on my stomach. I've had zippers put on me. I've been flogged on it. I would be totally immobile and helpless. I've had many tops use me on that thing. But there was one drawback. The human body is not made to be stretched backwards like that for a long time. I'm a strong girl with a six pack. I'm athletic and flexible. But after a long time in that position your body gets used to it and you're frozen that way. I literally am not able to get off that thing without help. I've had people watch me do a scene on it and oh wow that looks hot I want to try that. But when the scene is over and I look like I'm paralyzed they change their minds.  You read people's journals and profiles and you read that some slaves and subs fantasize about being in bondage for long periods of time and as someone who had that same fantasy let me say this. It's a fantasy. The human body is not made for permanent bondage or long periods of torture. You think you can be tied spread eagle to a bed or other position for the night?   Prove me wrong. 

I am active in my local kink community. Or rather, I was before the pandemic and I will be again. Watching other people play is a magical experience. To witness their playfulness, their intensity, the fear, aggression, comfort, tenderness, and artistry of a scene is beautiful. I've been lucky enough to play with some wonderful, skilled tops. I've even introduced new people to different types of play. I am enriched by every experience. All of this has taught me a very important lesson about myself. Submission is a deeply intimate experience for me. When I bottom for someone that I am not connected to the drop is much harder. I can't give pieces of myself to people who don't want to keep them. So I don't do casual play anymore. No impromptu scenes, no kink only arrangements, not even bottoming for someone who is learning. This is also why I don't do LDRs. The one I submit to must desire all of me. Not just the fun kinky parts. They need to be physically here so I can touch and be touched. That is super important to me.  I know it's possible and I am a patient woman.  

February 20, 2024 I've been speaking with Edgingfun23 for a while on FetLife. He came over for his first visit recently. He told me he was interested in getting a deep enema, and I explained that a deep enema takes time and it might not be necessary. So when he first arrived, as I do with all my guys, I met him in the driveway and we came inside. He was dressed straight from work. Usually guys that come for a visit wear jeans and a t-shirt, very relaxed looking. But edgingfun23 had clearly just come from a day of work. I sat back in my easy chair, looked straight into his eyes and simply said, "well… Strip!" I could tell that he was a bit nervous, but he started stripping his clothing off and putting them in the chair next to where he was standing. I just watched intently as he took off each article of business clothing. When he was naked, I just stared at him for a minute and he stood there wondering what would come next. I got up from my chair and went to the couch and grabbed a pair of wrist restraints. His hands were hanging down to his sides, and not recognizing these were wrist restraints, he did not extend his hands. So I grabbed a hand and pulled it out in front of him, putting the velcro restraint on his wrist. And then I put a restraint on the other wrist. Back to the couch I got a dog collar and put around his neck. I stood behind him and reached around playing with his nipples, groping his cock and balls, and tugging a bit on the dog collar. I told him to come to the bathroom where we were going to clean him out. I briefly explain the difference between a deep enema and a light enema. I told him we would start with a light enema but he would have to tell me when the water he was expelling into the toilet was clear. If it cleared up after a few cycles we would be done, if it didn't we might have to switch to a deeper enema. Apparently never having an enema before, he wasn't sure what to do. I told him to get down on all fours on the bathroom floor. When he was in the doggie position I smeared some Vaseline on my finger and slid it up and down the crack of his ass. I filled a small enema bulb with warm water, put some Vaseline on the tip of the tube, and using two of my fingers spread his ass cheeks so I could insert the tip of the enema bulb into his ass. As I squeezed all the water into his ass he didn't make a sound. I told him to stay in that position as I filled the bulb a second time, inserted it and added more water to his bowels. I smacked his ass and told him that I would leave the room to give him some privacy, and that he should take his time and expel the water. When he was done, he was to flush the toilet and as I heard him flush the toilet I would know it was time to come back in for the next round. I left the bathroom and closed the door behind me. It wasn't too long until I heard the toilet flush. I went back in and he was standing as I filled the enema bulb again. I told him to get back down on all fours. Two more bulbs of warm water filled his bowels before I left him to expel again. He learned quickly because the next time I came in the bathroom he was already on all fours. I think we went through four cycles of rinsing him out when I asked him how the water was. He said it was pretty clear. I think we went through one more cycle. I forgot to tell him on the last cycle to make sure he gets as much water out as possible. When we were done in the bathroom I told him we were going to head upstairs. He had previously told me he might need to work on his cock sucking skills so I thought the best place to do that would be upstairs. Although I knew he was extremely interested in the cow milking machine and the fuck bench, I needed my cock sucked first, so we were starting upstairs. We got upstairs and I briefly showed him all of the toys that I keep in the bedroom. Cock cages, ball weights, paddles and whips, and plenty of anal toys. I passed him a tight fitting cloth hood that has eye holes and a mouth hole. I told him to put it on. At first, as he pulled it over his head, I don't think he realized there were eye holes. I told him to pull it a bit forward that there were eye holes and we wanted to center the mouth hole so my cock had access to his mouth. After he made the adjustment to the hood I told him to climb on the bed on all fours. I wanted to check out his ass. I wanted to start playing with his hole immediately. Instinctively his ass rose into the air as his shoulders went down onto the bed. I think he has been in this position before. I grabbed some lube and squirted it on my finger as I rubbed it across his hole. I slipped my finger back and forth over his ass and then pushed a finger inside. Oh my god, it went in easily. I knew his ass was going to get a lot of play today. This was going to be fun. READ THE REST OF THE STORY AT   WWW.SirKel.top

i am pretty sure he's done with me.  No idea how I'm going to get through this feeling of failure.  I don't think I possess the ability to move on.  He owns every part of me. My thoughts are wrapped around him, our interactions, our love.  I don't surrender temporarily. I don't quit just because things get hard. I never have.  But somehow I'm supposed to quit him? Quit us? And just carry on? The very thought is viscerally painful.  I miss him. He still won't talk to me. Not even to tell me one way or the other.  On FetLife he's still listed on my profile. I suggested he remove it if he was done with me, that it would give him a way of telling me without the need for direct contact, if that's what he wanted. He is still listed.  All I know is, it's going to take the death of hope to let him go. 

“Wrote this for someone who was hurting and I thought it could help others”   Your words don’t just echo pain—they scream with the rawness of someone who has survived what most could never endure. I hear you.  Every line you wrote feels like a cry from the heart of someone who hasn’t given up… not really. Not yet. You haven’t gone cold. You’re burning alive inside the armor you forged to protect yourself. And I know how heavy that armor gets when all you want is to be seen, held, claimed—not just physically, but soul-deep. That ache to surrender is sacred… and dangerous when placed in unworthy hands. So I don’t blame you for guarding it like treasure. Because it is treasure. But hear me: You weren’t made to be shattered and discarded. You were crafted to kneel in reverence, not fear. To be taken by a man strong enough to hold all of you—not just your submission, but your chaos, your fire, your questions, and even your retreat. So if you’re screaming inside, I want you to know—I don’t scare easy. I don’t run when things get hard. I don’t get quiet when emotions roar. I don’t flinch when the storm rolls in. You say you want someone to fight back when you push them away. I will. Not because I’m desperate—but because I know what it means to truly want someone who thinks she’s too much. You’re not too much. You’re just waiting for the right strength to meet your softness. The right discipline to guide your surrender. You don’t need to be perfect or ready. You just need to be willing—willing to not run the next time that flicker of hope shows itself again.

 angeldmort