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

So why am i still here? Honestly i didn't think i would be. I've met people here, but life is complicated by the fact that i live with my mother (it's London, give us a break!). But i went to uni - miles away (clear across the country) and i thought that, i had a room of my own, a double bed, no one to explain things to, i could finally spend some real time getting to know a dom. And for some reason no one wanted to get to know me. A dom i'd known for literally years and who lived in the place i went to uni at, disappeared for five months and came back with a girlfriend, he wouldn't even meet for coffee as friends (and as a mature student boy did i need friends), another guy who said he'd love to have a holiday there, just didn't make it, one guy who agreed to come and see me started demanding that i go to see him instead, another guy ghosted me a few weeks before we were due to meet...yada, yada, yada. Now i don't believe i rushed any of these guys,  i was there for three years after all, so i guess they never had any intention of meeting in the first place.   So that's why i'm still here. But i can't say i'm still looking

 Captive Desire   The night was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. Olivia Bennett sighed, shutting her laptop with a soft click. Midnight again. She stretched, rolling the tension from her shoulders, and glanced around the empty house.   Jake was away on business. Connor was at a sleepover.   It was just her.   And then—a sound.   A soft, deliberate thud from the garage.   Her pulse spiked. She sat still, listening, waiting. The house held its breath.   Another sound—this time a scrape, like something dragging across concrete.   Her heart hammered as she stood. Probably nothing. A box falling, the wind knocking over the broom—something harmless.   Still, she grabbed her phone and padded downstairs, flicking on the hallway light. The garage door loomed ahead.   She hesitated.   Then, hand trembling, she unlocked it and stepped into the cool, dimly lit space.   The scent of motor oil and dust filled her nose. Her car sat untouched. The shelves were undisturbed. Everything looked normal.   A sigh of relief left her lips—   And then the light went out.   Darkness swallowed her.   The shift in the air was immediate.   A presence.   Her breath hitched.   Before she could move, strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her back against a hard, unyielding chest. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.   Hot breath tickled her ear.   “Shhh,” a low, masculine voice murmured. “Don’t fight it.”   Her pulse slammed against her ribs.   She struggled, kicking, thrashing—but he was too strong.   A thick cloth pressed to her mouth, something sickly sweet invading her senses. Her limbs grew heavy. The world tilted.   Darkness.   She woke to a whisper against her skin.   The air was thick, warm, carrying the scent of something rich—cologne, leather, danger.   She stirred, wrists bound above her, ankles tied to the posts of a bed—his bed.   Her breath caught.   The room was dim, candlelit, casting flickering shadows against dark wooden walls.   And then—him.   A man, clad in all black, standing at the foot of the bed. A mask hid his face, smooth and featureless, but his presence was commanding.   Powerful.   He trailed a gloved hand down her leg, slow, possessive.   “I’ve been watching you, Olivia,” he murmured. “Waiting for the right moment.”   A shiver coursed through her.   She should be terrified. She was terrified. But beneath the fear, something darker stirred. Something she didn’t want to name.   He knew.   His fingers traced the delicate lace of her nightgown, teasing along the hem.   “I wonder,” he mused, voice velvety, “how long you’ll resist before you give in.”   She swallowed hard. “I—I won’t.”   He chuckled, low and knowing. “No?”   His hand moved higher.   Her breath hitched.   Her body betrayed her.   Heat pooled in her core, a flush rising to her skin.   He leaned closer, breath fanning over her lips. “Your body says otherwise.”   She turned her face away, but he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze—though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt his dominance.   “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.   She parted her lips—   But the words never came.   He hummed in approval. “That’s what I thought.”   And then his mouth was on her, claiming her.   Possessive. Insatiable.   A captor. A stranger. A master of her pleasure.   And she let him take her.   Over.   And over.   Until she forgot what it felt like to be free.  

TO MY LOYAL SUPPORTERS, As the year draws to a close, I find MYSELF reflecting on the incredible journey 2024 has been. This year was nothing short of extraordinary, filled with milestones, unforgettable experiences, and growth that surpassed even MY own expectations. From traveling to new places that expanded MY vision to building deeper connections with those who’ve been here since day one, I owe it all to YOU. To MY loyal subscribers: YOU made this possible. Every moment of luxury, every goal crushed, every step forward, it’s a testament to your unwavering support and belief in ME. Together, we’ve created something unstoppable, and for that, I AM endlessly grateful. For those who’ve been watching from the sidelines, wishing they were part of this, know this: you’ve missed out on a year of exclusivity, transformation, and power. MY circle is reserved for those who understand what it means to invest in greatness. 2024 was just the beginning. The next chapter will be bigger, bolder, and untouchable. To MY loyal supporters: thank you for being part of this legacy. To the rest, the door is open, but not for long. Merry Christmas and here’s to an even more powerful 2025! With gratitude and fire,  AFRICAN GODDESS

I've been asked many times over the years, what is the difference between a submissive and a slave? One could say, by common definition, that is submissive, gives up control, but only within the constraints of the bedroom. The submissive can set limits, boundaries and more. So, it's not truly giving up control, but they giving up of limited control within certain areas, usually limited to strictly sexual. The slave, on the other hand, gives up all control at all times, both within and outside the bedroom. Her limits may be observed by her or his master or mistress. But, they don't have to be. Furthermore, giving up of control usually applies to all areas of life, not just strictly sexual. Still, that can be seen as a rather limited definition. if one truly wants to defined the difference between the two, it boils down to this. A submissive will give up control within the parameters of still satisfying her needs, wants and desires. A slave is able to sublimate her own needs, in order to put the needs of someone else before her own at all times. That's the big difference. A submissive may give up control, even total control, but only within the duration of a scene, or a particular situation. A slave not only gives up control, but puts the needs of her master before her own at all times. A submissive can always say, "Not tonight. I'm not feeling up to it." A slave has no such options. Her place and purpose is to put the needs and wants of her Master ahead of her own, and if Master decides that he wants to use his slave, it's her place as a slave to meet and even exceed his expectations. The problem is, with so many, having been raised with this being either fantasy or online role-play, combined with the Tinder culture expectation of "If this doesn't amuse me, I can just ghost him." It's becoming increasingly difficult to find those that truly have a slave mentality. So, those of you who are putting yourself out there as slaves, make sure that you understand the difference between submissives and slaves. Not only for your own benefit, but for the benefit of others as well. That way, no one's time is wasted, not expectations dashed and you'll be more successful at finding what it is you're truly looking for.

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==94% Submissive91% Rope bunny90% Voyeur71% Exhibitionist70% Primal (Prey)66% Experimentalist 60% Non-monogamist58% Slave44% Masochist 43% Boy/Girl40% Brat 37% Switch36% Vanilla30% Pet17% Ageplayer 16% Degradee

I've been back and forth, since before Thanksgiving , with the contract I have on a cabin In WV. Unfortunately the agent was a flake. Over the years , I've bought and sold homes. This agent was a hot mess. Finally had to get the broker involved, and replace the her.   The present one is on the ball. D and I drove to the cabin and he checked it top to bottom. There were concerns from the home inspection, and he calmed my mind. He said the place had great bones, the windows were all in good shape, the hot water heater was two years old , gas furnace will out live me, metal roof is fairly new... There is a cottage on the property, off the back set back from the cabin.  Its about eight hundred sq. feet , plus a screened in front porch! Perfect for my father, and he can't fall off. It has a kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom and full bath. It too has a new metal roof.   Added an addendum  for a few things, we'll see if they accept or counter. Saying a little prayer and crossing my fingers.   M.

In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams. (Acts 2:17). These things will be accurate to what has already been written in scripture and we should defend these things in the faith and know that new beginnings are coming soon. Jesus's homecoming is not a pretty thing. It is a destructive force cleaning the earth of wickedness to bring about real harmony and righteous alignments within many aspaspects of things. The revelations people are receiving are warning us of what's to come. Some things need to be deciphered for their meaning but there is a meaning and still other things and visions and prophesy are what they are. Everything is tied into the spiritual because the spirit realm is real. God is real. Jesus is real. The adversary is real. The Bible is the truth and the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.(Hebrews 4:12) Get out of worldly pursuits and instead seek God's kingdom first. The rewards we reap in the afterlife come from the faith and works we did while alive. Maintain good works. Faith without works is dead and work without faith is also dead. Do not live this life chasing something that won't last. Jesus is the King and authority seated on high on a throne. The Bible clearly communicates behaviors and conversations that are right or wrong. Jesus is not expecting overnight perfection or overnight healing. Things take time he knows this. He just wants you to learn the truth and build yourself up according to the word. The inward person matters more than you may think. It is not always easy building and healing but if you call on Jesus he will not forsake you. He will hear you. He will complete the work he has started in you. He wishes for all to come to repentance and be saved. Do NOT take the mark of the beast when it comes. Please come join Jesus at his thousand year reign. Keep your faith in God and Jesus. Please don't cast it away. 

I'd like to thank Master Thatch from Michigan for His very insightful comments on the issue of Ownership which I found very reassuring!  Thank you Sir!   "My last boy was owned We both live in the United States He lived in Ohio I live in Michigan We had a long distance Master and slave relationship Its possible You dont have to be a live in to be owned Now Im not saying that Master is wrong Every Master has their own ideals and definitions so theirs may be live in slaves are owned So that would indeed make them right but my definition of owned is when a boy has kneeled and pleaded their mind, body and soul to me and I have placed a collar around their neck and we are intertwined in a relationship Distance isnt an issue And Im not into live in slavery The relationship is monogamous, the boy is owned by only one Master and has only one Dom and that is me However that boy was leased out to other Doms from time to time"

Most any store you go into now asks you to take a survey when you leave so they know how they can improve. A lot of websites, social media groups, blogs etc, will belittle someone leaving who dares to give feedback about just why. "It's not an airport, you don't have to announce your departure".Those kinds of snarky remarks and the childish attitudes of the users,  are often the main reason someone will decide to cease participating in any particular group. Apparently, those managing these sites don't really care why people stop coming back.I myself don't announce my leaving or the reasons for it, I just go. Sometimes I'll check back in a year or two to see if that bunch of people still exists online and often it is gratifying to see that my judgment was correct and the group is dead or almost so.Now, I'm not planning on leaving CS, but I would like to give some feedback if the owners ever read these journal entries. This site is nearly stagnant and I think the long wait to approve a new profile or change an existing one has a lot to do with it. It's a huge turn-off and block to new members, many of whom will leave if they're not able to participate quickly and will probably forget they even created a profile here after a couple of weeks.So, it's the same people here every time. Nothing against any of them, but if they weren't interested in me the last 25 times I was online, I don't think they are gonna leap to to get to know me anytime soon. We need new blood here to keep things moving or CS risks becoming another uninteresting, moribund website.Okay, it took a long time for me to get there but it's been said. Back to surfing.    

It's a Tuesday evening in the middle of Dark Mofo, Hobart's art festival of sex and death.   I'm at an impossibly hip bistro for dinner. It's tiny and beautiful and the service is faultless, though the food is not as good as they think it is. The table barely fits me and my toy, wedged between a coat rack and the bar.   The waitress is young and curly-haired with a septum ring and Blundstones. Her forearms are covered in fine golden hair a shade lighter than her skin. I wonder if her armpit hair is the same beautiful shade, and suddenly I see it in damp ringlets, see her on her back, arms stretched above her head, naked, lying next to me...   "Can I get you a drink to start?"   My toy is not permitted to speak.   "I'll have a Camapari and soda, and have you got a rosé or an interesting white for him?" I nod my head in my toy's direction.   "You know I have something very interesting open tonight that might fit the bill" she says, reaching for a bottle on the bar behind my toy.   "Let me give you a taste of this. It is an orange wine from WA." She pours a generous mouthful into the glass in front of my toy. I wave away her offer to pour a taste into my glass, and pick up the glass in front of my toy.   The wine is a deep, sunset orange.   "What an extraordinary colour." I swirl the wine in the glass and bring it to my nose to smell.   The waitress begins to explain the maceration process used by the wine maker. I lift the glass to my lips and tip the generous tasting pour into my mouth, my eyes on her. She explains how the winemaker uses Gewurtztraminer and Shiraz grapes separately fermented on skins, and then mixed. I nod, suck air through my teeth to aerate the wine and swish it around my mouth.   I drop my eyes to My toy. His head is bowed, enough to show defence but not enough to draw attention. He's watching me, alert, intent.   I spit the wine back into the glass neatly and place it on the table. My toy flinches as if he's been pinched, then his cheeks flush the same colour as the wine. The waitress is silent, I feel her eyes on me. The wine swirls, cloudy, bubbly with salivary protein. I exhale with satisfaction and look up at her.   "That is delicious, excellent suggestion. He'll love it." I slide the glass towards to her. She hesitates for a moment, then pours a full pour into the glass. She looks at my toy and smiles, then turns her head to me.    MasterMayDomme 

CFNM Couples Tea Party 14th September 2024 4pm prompt  After many requests for couples to attend the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies Tea Party I have decided to heed your call!! Dominant Ladies are invited to bring their submissive partner to join the the Tea Party on 14th September for an afternoon of tea & wine with lashings of decadence. The submissives will be there solely to serve and cater to the ladies' every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla tea party again!  This is NOT! purely for male/female couples, ladies who wish to bring their female submissive are also encouraged to join the party. And, as usual, single ladies and gentlemen are also very welcome to attend. Ladies, this is your chance to be served by submissives and objectify them in a group situation. Whilst CFNM includes activities that are not exclusively orientated towards female dominance and superiority, a modicum of humiliation and punishment to submissives not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged! Submissives, (whether male or female) ,this is your chance to parade and display yourself proudly 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. The AcadaMay events/CFNM is also extremely inclusive and an absolutely safe and comfortable environment for single ladies attending on their own who wish to explore alternative scenarios in situation where they will be supported. All guests (both male and female) at the Tea Party will either need to be known personally by myself or will need to contact me with some brief details about themselves and a face photo so I know who they are. All in the strictest confidence and with the ultimate of discretion ;)  If you wish to attend send me a message!