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How can a str8 male fall in love with his Bull? This is a question that always calls my attention but lately it has become a surprising reality. For a Bull to pursue and obliterate any idea of str8 identity on a self proclaimed heterosexual male is a la or or of love. The Bull knows that this identity is misplaced but to convince the other male of this requires a deep knowledge of the male psyque.  Our society has done much of the work for us, str8 males (I said it before) admire sports figures to the edge of homoerotism. But of course that's admiration and it stops there. These males will follow a strong male to hell and back and allow any sort of intimacy with the leader of the band, actually they crave it. When they finally come to me I know there's a need a need that eventually could turn into love and that is a great feeling. However if one finds a male that is slowly falling in love not only giving you ownership of their bodies but also their feelings; that's a sacred charter that cannot be underestimated. Why? Because that male is into you and your dealings with him you are a model they can submit and surrender to. In short,  you've found a male bride and you must nurture that male and his feelings.  For the str8 male to acknowledge such feelings is confusing because is attraction, lust, respect, and the acknowledgement that he has fallen in love with the man and his phallus; but most of all the character and security it brings to his life. He is now realizing that the best place to be is anywhere his Man places him: between his legs, under him, or on his back awaiting the entry of the phallus that will change his life forever.  As a Bull you know he is yours  anyway you want that however, to the outside only him will feel your power and control. Even if he goes back to women which is an option if they still want to claim his str8 persona, he will mount them imitating you and doing it for you.    I had the pleasure of a baby named after me, and that’s the ultimate surender. It is his baby, now a teen, but every time he calls him he calls me. A male who loves you is a treasure to be had and a partner to nurture and possess beyond the physical.

I read over my profile, again, today, as I have many times since I created it anew. I've tried very hard over the years to make my profile on FL be realistic, vulnerable, intelligent, reflective of who and what I am at my core, and just as importantly, to have it reflect what I want to have in my life.  To let it give someone who doesn't know me, either well or even at all, a solid idea of myself, my body, my mind, my soul.  The more I looked over it these last few months, the more I often changed it, inserting more intellectual references and suave self assured witticisms, but still I saw what it lacked.  The more I saw and felt the only true and right and beloved deion it could and should contain was...love.  The joy of caring, the elation of sexual union, deep and abiding compassion, the sensual act of touch, the smell and taste and sounds of affection, the respect of intimate and unflagging positive human regard, the vision of altruism, the singular romance of knowing you are and you can and you do and you need and you give that one precious wonderful thing that we all need in our lives; love.  It often seems to me in our kinky little corner of the universe there isn't much talk  of that kind of love in profiles anymore, even though it also can take many shapes and forms; love of rope, love of play, love of sexual adventures. I hope we all will list more love and loves in our profiles. It's never too late. I'm not going to change my profile again though, please don't worry.   Let this note stand from this day forward as my more than official confirmation of my own proclamation to need want desire make spread create admire demonstrate dream bring deliver give ask understand and embrace more... LOVE.   

Unknown I felt His finger touch my face. I wanted to tilt toward it, to nuzzle and feel more of Him, but He pulled away quickly. I resisted the urge to twist my head to see if I could feel Him still close, my focus soon turned to the sounds on my right. I could hear paper rustling and then a loud, metallic clank, followed by the sound of a lighter. The ensuing heat told me he'd started a fire in the fireplace and I squirmed a bit, hopefully not enough he could see. I had no idea what his intentions were but now things were getting hotter. I twitched when I felt him again. He was behind me, his hands guiding me to stand, and I did so nervously. Still no words, but I could feel him against my backside. I wanted to wriggle closer, I wanted so desperately to "know" him in more than just the words on a screen. I felt his breath on the edge of my ear and a soft whisper, "kathi, open your shirt, undo your bra and free those tits for Me." I gasped at the sound of his voice. It was just a whisper so I still really didn't know what he sounded like. His voice was so soft, barely audible, but I was intent on obeying. As my hands started to undo my buttons, he gently turned me so that the fireplace was no longer on my right, but behind me. And I felt that heat as he moved away. I swallowed hard wondering what he intended, wondering if I'd lost all commonsense. Yet, I still did as he said, my muscles in my cunt clenching without my conscious effort. My breathing deepened, and I could feel the slight sheen of sweat on my body as the heat continued to grow. My hands fell to my sides, my breasts exposed to him. I remembered him looking at the pictures I'd sent him and I wondered if the pictures held up to the real things. I heard him now in front of me, he'd been watching me reveal myself to him. The front of my body felt almost as warm as the backside was getting though it wasn't from the fireplace. His hands touched me again, this time, longer, cupping my face, sliding down my neck, slowly, sliding under my bra straps and blouse that still covered my shoulders, and running down my arms, the clothing fell away. He moved his hands to my heavy breasts, his fingers toying with my nipples that grew harder at his touch. They grew taut and pulled, I bit my bottom lip to keep from moaning, to keep from squirming. I still had no idea what his face looked like. I wondered if he approved, I wondered if he were smiling. His palms rubbed over my pale, soft skin of my breasts, cupping them, holding them. He pulled on a nipple, squeezed and tugged with one hand, his other hand still caressing the other breast. No words, just his hands, his fingers tracing the curves of my breasts and alternating with pinches and twists. He moved away and I broke from the trance his touch had created. I swallowed hard again and tried to gather my thoughts, tried to think of something other than my cunt. I didn't know this man, yet it didn't matter. I could hear the good angel telling me to be wary, the sound of the throbbing deep inside me blocking out her voice. I felt the rope begin to wrap around one breast, his hands back and caressing, guiding the rope tightly around one, the squeezing growing as the shape of my breast changed to be more round, more orb-like. It stood out, my nipple hardening to a point, then the other breast being wrapped. I could feel the sweat from the heat on my back running down my back now. I thought I could almost feel my wetness from my cunt meeting it, but I was still wearing my skirt, so perhaps that wasn't true. I couldn't tell. My heart was pounding, my clit was throbbing and I nothing but his toy at that moment. My breasts throbbed as the blood was forced into the constricted confines, his hands rubbing over them almost as though he were fascinated with how they looked. Then they were gone. I startled, the trance again broken but his hands were on my shoulders now, gently pressing me downward. I resumed the position I'd been in when he walked in, only now the fireplace was behind me. I heard the zipper on his pants and I knew what was next. I hoped I was right… He rubbed his cock against my face, and this time he let me nuzzle him. I got to feel him along my cheek, my lips. Somehow I knew that hands weren't permitted this time, just my mouth. He was giving me that chance to know him, to feel him, and I wasn't going to lose any time. His precum moistened my lips as I kissed and caressed his cap with my lips. I turned my head and ran my mouth along his hard shaft, my tongue delicately brushing over his skin, my own caresses mimicking those he'd given my breasts. The tip of my nose nuzzled under him as my lips explored his balls. Back to his cap, I parted my lips slightly and he pushed forward, my mouth opening wider to accommodate him, he began thrusting forward, slowly at first each forward movement going a bit deeper each time. His hands went to my hair and he pressed my face into him, he held me there and I inhaled his scent as I tried to breathe. When he had finished, when I had swallowed and licked him clean, his hand brushed against my cheek, then he helped me back to my feet. I rocked unsteadily and he drew close and kissed my lips, his tongue running over them, letting my tongue meet his for just a moment, then he pulled away. He slowly unwrapped the rope on my breasts, his fingers caressing again, easing the pain as the engorged orbs slowly turned back to the way they were before his arrival. Then, feeling him close again, he whispered… "next time…"

He didn't mince words.  "Let me see you in make up" My hands trembled as I spread some foundation on my face. Being watched made the experience more nerve racking.  Twenty minutes later, I turned towards him, hoping for approval. He studied me for a moment, then smiled kindly. "Not bad for a first attempt. But it's not you yet." I looked in the mirror. The eyeliner was uneven, the lipstick too bold, and the blush sat awkwardly on my cheeks. "So... start over" he said. i wiped it all away. Again. And again. And again. Each attempt grew more natural. My hands steadied. The lines became cleaner. The colors softer. Nearly two hours later, I turned to face him once more. This time, he nodded with quiet satisfaction. "There you are," he said. "Not because it's perfect—but because you finally stopped rushing and started seeing yourself.  From now on, this is how you will see yourself. I looked at my reflection in the mirror, unsure of who exactly was looking back at me.

My mind wanders   and where I am in my head in a given moment may not be in a particular space or focused on a particular thought. A lot of the time I'm just absorbing being, breathing and living in those few seconds of being alive. Other times I'm visually and physically absorbing being in Daddy's presence so that if the day comes that his circle of life has completed and my time hasn't yet come to join him, my mind will relive these magical years, months, days, hours and minutes of our priceless endless love. The power and strength of our individual selves is potential and possibilities that may or may not be realized. The roles we assume as Dom/Master/sub/slave without one another is conceptual fantasy and unrequited desire. Together we are fortified and the conceptual, fantasy and desire are lived and experienced. Our personal chemistry has been altered. More than a high from the natural dopamine we create for one another. We're in eachothers blood, in the air we breathe, and all that sustains us to be alive. There is nothing worth experiencing if I'm not sharing it with my Master. Loving and living to serve my Master/King/Life partner.

Alright, feral creatures. Drag your claws in a circle and listen.   If your master plan is to speed run your BDSM bucket list with strangers like you’re farming achievements, you are not practicing power exchange. You are running a fantasy drive thru.   Hi yes, I’ll take one degradation scene, extra intensity, no emotional labor.   That’s not dominance.   That’s not submission.   That’s transactional self gratification wearing a harness.   Power exchange is not a vending machine. It is not a same night shipping option for your curiosity. It is a relational structure built on trust, communication, and actual human care.   You cannot ethically hold power over someone you do not care about. Period.   Now let’s talk about pick up play before someone starts twitching.   Picking up someone you’ve seen in the community? Someone you’ve observed at events? You’ve watched how they negotiate. How they respond to a safeword. How they treat people after scenes. How they handle NO. You’ve seen them interact when they’re not performing.   That’s informed risk.   Scooping up a total stranger with zero shared community, zero references, zero behavioral observation, and hoping adrenaline carries you through?   That’s rolling dice with someone’s nervous system.   Vibes are not vetting.   And while we’re here get involved in the community.   Go to munches.   Go to vettings.   Go to classes/workshops.   Go sit at a table and actually talk to people without trying to collect them.   Observe.   Watch how people interact. Notice who listens. Notice who interrupts. Notice who respaspects space. Notice who name drops. Notice who checks in after someone looks overwhelmed. Notice who vanishes when cleanup starts.   Munches are not play parties. Vettings are not auditions for your bucket list.   They are spaces to build familiarity. To understand hosts and their rules. To learn the culture of a specific dungeon or group. These events take time, money, and energy to plan. Hosts coordinate venues. They set safety protocols. They build community frameworks.   Treat that with respect.   Don’t roll in like it’s a pregame for your fantasy scavenger hunt.   Power exchange requires infrastructure:   Clear negotiation   Explicit limits   Aftercare planning   Emotional accountability   Community awareness   If you don’t have the patience to build that foundation, you don’t want BDSM. You want intensity without responsibility.   And here’s the gremlin truth: when you treat people like checklist items, you erode the very ecosystem that keeps kink safer.   Community exists so we can:   Share information   Protect each other   Vet behavior   Build trust over time   You want to dominate? Learn how to communicate without posturing.   You want to submit? Learn how to advocate for yourself without shrinking.   You want to explore? Learn how to build relationships that can hold intensity safely.   Slow down.   Show up consistently.   Respect the hosts.   Respect the spaces.   Respect the humans.   Otherwise you’re not practicing power exchange.   You’re just chasing adrenaline for an orgasm and hoping nobody gets hurt when the crash hits.   And that’s not edgy.   That’s just reckless with better lighting.

    The Guest House This being human is a guest house.Every morning a new arrival.   A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesas an unexpected visitor.   Welcome and entertain them all!Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,who violently sweep your houseempty of its furniture,still, treat each guest honorably.He may be clearing you outfor some new delight.   The dark thought, the shame, the malice,meet them at the door laughing,and invite them in.   Be grateful for whoever comes,because each has been sent by a guide above. 

Do you like that?/ I keep his throat in my pocket/ He tries to bite back/ I'm sleeping deep in his lungs/ He wants to deny that/ He's on the edge of his seat/ And he's trying not to break, but I give it 'bout a week/ I'm made of linen and salt, my blood is made up of feathers/ He runs on language and laughter, he's made of leather and pepper/ Our limbs walk over to each other, the bodies are shoving/ And I grab him by the tie and, oh god,I think he's blushing/ And the tactics, accents, rip my seam/ He's a hopeless, focused, fucked up dream/ And he's trying not to crawl, 'cause he won't say he needed me/ And he's trying not to sleep, 'cause all he does is dream of me/ His family's scared of me 'cause the concept of sex is stronger than the concept of god/ And when he's missing on Sunday, they know who's at fault/ And I'll return him home, sick with a fever/ 'Cause his still on the ground, on his knees, in a theatre/ 'Cause I'm the backyard heathen/ The girl he's dreamin'/ I'll bend him over backwards, give him something to believe in/ No end, no completion/ He says stop teasing/ We'll play the game, both go insane, and then we'll call it even/ 'Cause his chest is heaving/ His knees got weakened/ All strong and rough and tough, but I ruined that in an evening/ I sunk my teeth in/ And by next weekend/ You're admitting I'm the only god that you'll ever believe in/

I should try fishing as a sport because this site is exactly the same. You are putting out a hook waiting for a good fish to swim by. Unhooked a rotten fish last week (married again) luckily never went on a date with that fish. Stuck to my principles and my gut feeling, creepy man contacted me on his second profile.  Very creepy.  Not just cheating on his wife but on the Mistress and wanted a 3rd pond to play in. Having a me day, new underwear, new shoes and dress, hair done, nails and eyebrows, full body wax (fresh and clean), got my head focused on my priorities (my career). But I must admit while waiting patiently some very pretty fish have been swimming by. Reminds me being patient for someone good is always for the best.

Before you can be taught, you have to know what classes interest you to attend.  But that's not submission, I hear you ignorantly complain. No, but most of you don't understand the difference between being submissive and being A submissive. Most of you try and convince the world you are the latter whereas you are barely the former.  Nosce te ipsum, is the first order of any day. Youre not qualified to know anyone else before you get to know yourself. Life becomes a series of dead-ends and u-turns unless you know where youre heading. Understand this - there is nothing wrong with not knowing, there is nothing wrong with asking and there is glory and purpose is learning. Act accordingly, before that laundry list of expectations and demands that you carry becomes nothing more than a shield against actually experiencing anything. And to those desparing of finding their place and purpose, remember that when you're falling out of the tree, any branch you can grab before hitting the ground is a blessing and should be appreciated. Even if it's not where you want to be, its better than the thud at the end of a drop. There is precious little enough joy in this world these days that any of us should spurn the chance to feel some when the possibility presents itself. Here endeth the lesson.

I wrote a response and I am going to include in journal. Not so,  Words can be read, with the meaning behind them getting lost. Sometimes if not most of the time,  The answers are not on the surface instead they in the layers that are below.    It would be for those that go deeper, poke at the surface to discover what is so close.     I may have used to many words ..  My therapy is in the past, I put a lot of effort into proving what wasn't the answer I was seeking.    It took time, to not think to solve problems, find better solutions and do everything myself while trying to convince others to follow.   The loss was always relationships. I chose to take the relationship path before I met you    I had no idea the journey that followed.    When you say I am looking for someone to solve my problem for me on the contrary.    I try to steer from say things I don't want or not looking for.    I am not looking for someone to want to solve anything on my behalf or be that feel good help save the day desire.     It's hard not to find that behind the mask in a lot of profiles.    I seek a true selfish, Dominant woman that overlooks any interest in knowing what I may or may not want or have opinion.     Someone who expaspects my voice when called upon to speak. Someone who will not ask if it hurts or if I like something.   I am interested in your leadership, if you will treat property as an asset that gives you return on investment and time.  Will you maximize the asset you own and maintain while training to correct imperfections and lack of training before you owned it.    I look to sure see to a life I have only played out in my mind a thousand times. That there is no word no in my vocabulary.  It's prove you right never wrong.  To not ask or seek pleasure making you the focal point of why I exist.   For that is where I find purpose and a reason to be alive.  That is my nature something I tried to change.    I take what is needed from only that is given, all efforts are to improve and comfort and entertain my owner.   I accept it's still a challenge..   Yes if you say I look for someone to solve my problem. If looking for a qualified owner ?  I am seeking that.  My decision to surrender is precise. Your definition of property is precise.  I have only one choice then yes an owner does solve what ever problem may occur.  I am looking not for problems but some one to lead. 

Wow, never thought I'd get such a response. Within 2 weeks of my profile being approved I have 60 pages of messages. While I am trying to respond to everyone, it's becoming a fulltime job and affecting my life and sleep, so I'm going to start being more selective about what I reply to. I know my profile is vague, but that was the only way to get it approved. To answer the most common questions, yes I am semi serious about this, and no I have never been owned before. I am a real person with a real life and real people that would be horrified to know my perversions, so I'm going to be very cautious with my PII, including pictures, phone number, etc. I don't want to download 30 different messengers that I've never heard of so please stop asking. I'll talk on messenger and if you interest me I'll move to another form of contact. I don't have many limits, and I prefer being led rather than leading. A good imagination and the ability to follow through is the most important thing to me. If you want me to even consider moving forward with you, you need to have a plan and be ready to share that plan.

To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: byanthonyp16562M Dom To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: Respect and Trust: True dominance is built on respect and trust, earned through authenticity and understanding. Responsibility: A good master takes responsibility for their submissive's happiness and satisfaction, putting their needs before their own. Communication: Effective communication is essential; a good master listens to their submissive and guides them into a space where they feel their control and authority. Empathy: Understanding and empathizing with the submissive's needs is crucial for a health

You just came home from a long day at the office. I am in the bedroom waiting. I am wearing your favorite nightie with nothing underneath. I'm already so wet. My nipples are so hard now, and I want to touch them. I want to pinch one nipple with one hand and the other hand is playing with my pussy. Waiting and not being able to touch myself, is torture. And you know it. I can hear your smooth measured steps on the wooden floors. You stop in the kitchen, open the fridge and look through the shelves, making me wait.  The rules are simple. I am never allowed to wear bras or panties while in the house. I am never allowed to touch myself without your permission, and you rarely gives me permission. And when you comes home, I am to wait for you in our bedroom. I try to be a good girl, but sometimes forgiveness is easier to obtain than permission.  I can hear you now walking to the living room. The TV comes on. It's Sportscenter. I could from the theme song.  You're making me wait longer than usual. You never sit and watch TV. Tonight you are  punishing me. I just couldn't wait until you came home. home. Yesterday, I just couldn't wait! It was after you called me, and told me about all of the things you were gonna do to me. I was too revved up. So now you are punishing me. You didn't do anything to me. Just watched TV, while my hands were tied behind my back.  To Be Continued

Some of us are born to serve.  I sought out alpha males online as a horny porn obsessed boy. One of those Daddy's began to use me and fill me after weeks of convincing and guidance as I ackwowledged i wanted to get fucked not fuck and that I like the idea of having my pussy filled. Daddy Mark suggested household suppiies to penetrate my hole.  I began to jerk off with my clit over my mouth. I came into my mouth. I ate my cum. Daddy Mark wanted to meet. After limited resistance Daddy Mark drove to my neighborhood late at night where I snuck out and met him in a quiet area a few blocks from my home. He directed me to wear only a tshirt and shorts and to approach his van. When he opened the door he told me to get in and remove my clothes and hand them to him. I did as told.  He filled both my holes. He fed me poppers as he showed me porn of twinks being bred.  I left knowing that I'd never do that again.  Two weeks later I did that again. This time in my youth baseball uniform. He filled me with my jock strap on.  "You're made to be a bottom bitch," Daddy Mark said. "You're the most eager bottom I've ever had." Meeting 3 saw me sink deeper. I told my parents I'd be spending a weekend at a friends house but instead rode with Daddy Mark to his house, where a sex swing, basement playroom and two Daddys waited to make me their bitch.  I've slowly accepted I want to be a slave. Owned, taken, shaped, used. I'm a sissy. Open to relcation, few limits, TPE and life free to be a slave.  

he House Doctrine of Master George Part 2 of 2 ( you should read part 1 first) A Journal Entry for the Instruction of Slaves and the Record of My Household Philosophy House Principles The following principles govern daily life here: Obedience is Immediate – Commands are executed without delay or question. Respect is Constant – Tone, body language, and actions must always reflect the honor of this house. Service is Sacred – From the smallest chore to the most ceremonial duty, every act of service is performed with devotion. Discipline is a Gift – Correction is not punishment for its own sake, but a tool to refine you into what I desire. The Master’s Word is Final – My authority is absolute in all matters. The Nature of This Life Slavery, as I define it, is not a role that can be “turned off.” It does not begin when you kneel and end when you stand. It is constant. It is lived in every breath, every movement, every thought. It is not about chains, though chains may be used; it is about the mental and emotional bond of ownership. The gift you offer me is your complete surrender. In return, I give you stability, belonging, protection, and purpose. I will push you harder than you think you can endure — and in doing so, I will reveal to you a strength you never knew you had. Final Word To be my slave is to step into a life defined by clarity and purpose. It is to give up the burden of aimless decision-making and take on the honor of service. It is not a life for the weak, nor for the half-committed. But for those who are ready, the rewards are beyond measure. When you kneel before me, you do not kneel in defeat. You kneel in acceptance — and in that acceptance, you will rise to become exactly what you were meant to be.   Signed, Master G

"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.  

If you'd like a reasonable answer and a good prospect of meeting me for real, message me and Don't assume any titles. You can tell me how you like to be addressed. You can ask or tell me once how you are going to address me unless I. Start with a greeting. It says so much. Not using any also tells me novels about you. Very disappointing and frustrating ones though. Tell me the reason why you contact me. Is it based on my profile and to figure out if, when, and how we'll have a real session offline? Tell me. Respect your own prospect and mine. If there is no overlap between what we are looking, don't ignore that. Don't ask me or try to play online for instance. Ask me questions if you like, but don't ask me something you can look up. You can always ask about my own definitions or opinions about something but give me context, please. I need to know why you ask. Tell me something about you but not everything, especially not right from the beginnung. Start with the most relevant information concerning your reason to message me. Open up a bit. Personal information is a give and take. Our balance gives away a good portion about the prospect to meet. Manage your expectations. This is the internet. Without closer contact, you don't know in which situation I am in, any sudden accident or sickness for example. I expect having to filter through a lot of crappy messages, people not reading, lack of manners, disrespect, crazy people, insults, plenty of people just disappearing. The list goes on. Don't expect a 100% reply rate, even from me. I am only human. It's the internet. Don't stalk or annoy (see respect above) but be patient and persistent. The only way to filter strangers is time and continuous communication. Liars have a hard time keeping up consistency. Con and scammers people don't like to invest too much time into the same contact. Trust is most valuable, time is second to that, followed by other resources like money. Try to include a question towards progress on trust, checking if it's a match, and possibly a real meeting.

What my submissive nature looks like:   I naturally end up taking care of others better than I take care of myself. I love to maintain a household and provide nourishment and comfort to all who dwell there. I enjoy pampering my partner. I’ve raised a child, I garden, I cook, I fix things and I take pride in a job well done.    Things I’m not so good at… selling myself, making big $$, asking for what I need or making the first move.   I’m sensitive and inquisitive. I care about the world. I’m drawn to ponder the meaning of life. I cherish touch, beauty, intimacy and indulging in carnal delights. I love truth and freedom. I adore feeling wanted, desired and useful to the Feminine. I adore giving pleasure… physical, emotional and mental. I adore receiving pleasure. I enjoy enduring erotic pain for another’s pleasure… and I cherish serving the will of a Goddess. 

Now that a vast majority of the 'Oh Hey journals are back!" have been done, lets take a minute to update this.   So heres the gyst of what I would LOVE to find, in an ideal world and ideal time...  We want a cis female slave.  Males are good FOR OTHER USES but thats not what I am looking for as a priority, there MAY be that option but remember the use I have for you is seveirly limited. The slave that I am lookin for needs to understand that I PRESS HARD for information.  I WANT you to ask questions and am dissapointed when you just answer in 1, 2, or 3 word answers.   I will NEVER be with anyone without birth control.  I as the Master, may be having that issue taken care of, of my own accord, because I already have one daughter, who doesn't live with me, and I dont want any more children. Otherwise, any prospective slave should read our full profile and write back. male slave/s be known that if you are not local there is little to no chances for you..  Even local males, you have a purpose,  yes, but o e that is not domestic or sexual,  and to be honestMOST of the male slaves that have come forwardare not even appealingto the eyes.  Now as to the current update... Mouse has left my service as of Dec 14th. I FOUND a new appartment, so my search for a slave has resumed, again read my profile CAREFULLY because I will call you on it lol. I dont know how many times I have had to say this...  If you are INTERNATIONAL do NOT boter to write to me, male, female, rich, poor, doesn't matter, international relocation is a hassle and with Covid GOOD LUCK getting a flight over here.

Well, I finally decided to unhide my profile after several years of isolation due to the pandemic.  Thought I might be able to find a good slave boy just in case we ever have to go back into a lockdown situation so that I am not left all alone without a sub/slave to use.  Nice to see there are fewer scammers, but seems there are less profiles, too.  BUT apparently the head games and b,s, have not changed much!  Guys, ghosting anyone is rude and unacceptable!  It reflaspects poor character when you make a date or agree to submission and then just disappear without any word!  Why would you lead someone on for several weeks and tell them how much you adore them, only to ghost and block them??  Hell, make up a viable excuse, but don't burn your bridges!  At least show some consideration and that you can be responsible for your actions!  And what is up with the old pics on profiles?  Some of you have not updated your age or profile pic in the last 10+ years that I have been on this site!!  Didn't you know you can change your personal stats without needing approval from Admin??  I realize pics need approval, but not to update your stats!  Up to this point, I have tried being socialable and understanding, but there comes a time when the Dom in me has to come out one way or another. If you cannot take a bit of verbal abuse and corporal punishment, you are in the wrong place.  While I may enjoy levels of intimacy at times, I will not be your boyfriend.  There are other sites for finding those types of guys. This old troll will crawl back under his rock now! 

What I am looking for: I would love to find an amazing submissive partner. This person should want to put in the time and effort it takes to become actual friends and form a real emotional bond. As in any solid relationship, this is not something that will happen overnight. If you lack patience or just want a quick hookup, I am not the One for you. The person in question should be local to me or able to visit on a very regular basis. What is most important to me is shared chemistry and emotional connection. I am not looking to rush into anything. Expect the process of getting to know each other and the vetting process to take TIME. Interested parties should be willing and able to communicate extensively through online methods. I prefer typed text to voice communication, but can verify that I am who I say I am if necessary. If you are someone who does not like to write words or who thinks saying 'hi' or telling me how attractive you think I am is a conversation, you won't stand a chance. My partner preference currently tends to swing towards cis women, trans women, and trans men, but I am pan and could be attracted to anyone if the right connection is there.Preferred Age Range - 30 to 50 Turn Ons & Main Interests: These are my "must have" vanilla and kink interests. While the exact dynamic of each relationship is unique to those involved in it, if any of this is a hard limit for you, we will likely not be a match. * Tease & denial * Orgasm control / orgasm denial * Massage (getting) * Cuddling & Physical Displays of Affection * Oral service * Laughter * Intelligence * Shared vanilla interests I've physically and mentally been through Hell over the past 5 or so years and need a partner who is truly service oriented, who will enjoy helping and caring for their Domme. I am completely willing to discuss this in detail with the right person. If you have fully read and understood my profile and journal, you may send me a polite message detailing why you are interested in serving me, how your vanilla and kink interests line up with my own, and a bit about yourself. Please also include the phrase "You remind me of the babe" so I know you actually read my complete profile. Bonus points if you know where the quote comes from.

So many Doms who contact me here always seem to assume I'm full of all these unfulfilled fantasies about kink and a dom sub dynamic that are  unrealized, offering their cocks, hands, and sometimes even their minds to lead me down the path into my subconscious of dark desires.  Maybe those kind of offers entice other women on this site, ones who have had only dreams of scratching their itches, so to speak, but  hey fellas, if you have read my profile and my journals, you would know I have a great lifetime of experience for us to begin with.  That alone should elevate our initial conversations above the fray.  What I'm seeking here, what I'm seeking from you, is your extra special sauce and inner sanctum of domination, control, sensuality, experiences, etc. that all impact you and bring you to this current wonderful state of being you in all your learned kink glory. So that we may dive together into the depth that our conjoined minds and sexuality and dominance and submission can open before us when we conspire to love and serve and liberate to build a fortress of dynamic.  So please don't ask me to tell you a dark longing I've held my tongue about, because the most sexy longing I'm desiring most is to have you  meld your mind and body and spirit into me so I can become truly yours forever. 

It's baffling why some guys start an email by saying they've read a profile, and immediately make it obvious that they haven't. Or that they have little or no reading comprehension. Do you think we're so stupid we won't notice? You know everybody can tell who has looked at their full profile, right? You can't read all of mine without looking at the full profile, so I KNOW IF YOU HAVEN'T. Not to mention there are things in there placed there specifically to see if it's been read.Do you think there's nothing in there you might need to know? Do you think a dominant just wrote it for fun and it doesn't mean anything? Do you think "getting to know a dominant" might include reading what she writes? Do you think lying about it will make a good impression?If you want to get to know me and maybe serve me some day, the first step is to PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT I SAY. Starting with the profile. The second step is to NEVER LIE. I mean, seriously, this is not rocket science, guys. Anybody past ten years old should be able to figure this stuff out.

The Weight of Three Minutes - An Erotic Short Story  The marble is cold under your knees. I designed the room precisely for this quality of cold, for the way it travels upward through a kneeling body and reminds it, without a word from me, of exactly where it is. The morning light moves across your bowed shoulders and finds the faint lines on your skin, my lines, exactly where I left them.   You hold the cup steady. I will give you that.   My fingers brush yours as I take it. A conductivity test, reading the current of you through brief contact. You do not tremble. Good. I bring the rim to my lips.   The first sip tells me everything. The base notes are correct, the Darjeeling first flush I require. But beneath it, the steep is wrong. Three minutes would have given me what I require. You gave me four. The tannins have opened in a way they should not have been permitted to, and the result is an astringency that sits at the back of the palate like a small, deliberate insult.   You know. You felt it before I tasted it, felt the error in the air the way a barometer feels weather. Your world has narrowed to the space between my slippered feet. Good. That is where it belongs.   I say your name. Just that.   "Yes, Goddess." The word hangs in the quiet room like an offering I have not yet decided to accept.   "The specifications are precise and they are not suggestions. Water temperature ninety degrees. Steep time three minutes. Measured. Not estimated. Not felt."   "Yes, Goddess."   "Explain the deviation."   The muscle in your jaw tightens. I catalog it. "The leaves were newer stock. I thought a longer steep would develop the flavor more fully. Bring out the muscatel notes you prefer."   "You thought."   I begin to circle you. Slowly. I am never in any hurry. I place my gaze on the back of your neck with the deliberate weight of something being pressed into soft material.   "You introduced variables. You assumed. Perfection does not accommodate feeling. The muscatel note I prefer is arrived at in precisely three minutes. Not your interpretation. Not your instinct. Three minutes, measured, as specified."   "A flaw in the cup is a flaw in the man. Do you doubt my parameters?"   "No, Goddess. Never."   But your fingers curl inward where they rest on your thighs. I see it. I note it. Nothing is too small to matter.   "Stand."   You rise in one fluid motion, taller than me, broader. And yet you make yourself smaller in my presence, as you have learned to do. It is one of the things I have built in you that I find most satisfying.   "Look at me."   Your eyes meet mine. The familiar desperate focus is there, the terror of demotion. But beneath it, a flicker. Not defiance. Something more interesting. A spark of independent thought, alive and un-extinguished.   My fingers, cool and precise, trace the line of your jaw. The shudder that moves through you is full-bodied and involuntary. Your breath catches.   "The grade for today's service is pending. We will see if the rest of your performance can correct the imbalance."   I turn toward the lounge. "Follow."   Two steps behind, as trained. The cage sits in its corner, black steel and clean lines, always the outer boundary of the visible world.   "Kneel here. You will remain until I have need of you. You will not speak. You will not move. You will contemplate the difference between three minutes and four."   You sink into position. Back straight, hands on thighs, head at the precise angle I have trained into you. You are, when you are like this, a beautiful object. I have made you that.   Not a muscle moves. Your breathing barely disturbs the air. Every resource of you pointed at the single task of being still enough to please me.   And yet. You chose to deviate. You chose to trust your own palate over my doctrine.   Something uncoils in my attention. Not anger. Sharper. Interest, which in my world is rarer and more dangerous than fury.   I say your name again, soft as a petal released from a great height.   Your eyes lift instantly.   "Come here."   You cross the distance on your knees and stop before me, your face level with my lap. You wait with your entire body.   "The grade is failing. A failing slave is placed in the cage. Denied touch. Denied sight."   Your throat moves. "Yes, Goddess."   "Do you wish to be caged?"   "I wish only what you wish, Goddess."   "That is not an answer. It is a recitation. The one who extended the steep had a wish. What was it?"   "I wished for it to be perfect for you. Not just correct. Perfect. The new harvest felt like an opportunity and I wanted to find something in it that you had not yet tasted."   There it is. Your ambition, layered over my specifications, believing itself generous.   I slide my fingers into your hair and close them. The breath that leaves you is unsteady. Your eyes close. "Your wish introduced error," I say, close to your ear. "Your personal pursuit of my pleasure contaminated the delivery of it. That is the failure."   I pull your head back. Your eyes open, wide, stripped of calculation. Simply present. Exposed. Looking up at the only person in your world who matters.   "And yet," my thumb finds the pulse hammering in your throat, "it was a beautiful ambition."   I release you.   "The grade remains failing. But the correction will be hands-on."   "Remove your shirt."

Just my philosophy   My husband is belittled kept in his place for his own good and my own pleasure. He or is a ward, a pupil, an infant, a sissy, a doll, a puppet, a pet, a toy, a plaything for a moment or a lifetime, as I so wish. He is a vulnerable yet potent creation of mine. I control and nurture him, as is my prerogative. My husband is enticed and regressed by me and transformed into a helpless and vulnerable state in my hands. My husband is physically, mentally, emotionally and sexually dominated by me. He is immobilized and incapacitated, disciplined and humiliated by me. He is made to submit to my will, my whim and my desire. My husband is stripped of his adult status and is laid bare by my natural seductive power and control. I utilize my manly wiles and charms to emasculate and disempower him for my benefit. His freedom of choice and movement is taken from him and he must do as told or suffer my displeasure. When I so desire, my husband is kept as a plaything in restraint, chastity, diapers and confinement. My husband has lost control of his most basic of functions of movement, feeding, toileting and sex. He is disciplined and punished when needed. Mocked, teased and cooed over, diapered at all times, displayed as a novelty, treated as a human toy for my entertainment when I'm in the mood. He is ashamed yet aroused at this humiliation and cruelty that he cannot stop. His inherent weakness is their sexual desire for seduction by his dominant and this is something I have perfected using against him. On the occassions I allow him out of his chastity device, his erect cock is the explicit manifestation of his desire that he cannot hide. I control his pleasure and pain, release and restraint, as I see fit. My husband has been made dependent on me for most everything. I do so love to tantalize and torment my playthings. I am very creative and cruel with my toys. My dominant friends...Capture their mind, restrain their body, pacify their spirit, control their desire, discipline their behavior, manipulate their sex, gag their cries, force-feed their hunger, confine their genitals.

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.

 quirkylittle4daddy 

Breakbot, Playful Vibes, and Devotion: A Synergy of Sound and Connection part 2   Your post is incredibly heartfelt and vibrant! It perfectly captures the spirit of what you're curating with your playlists, weaving together music, dynamics, and emotions in a way that feels alive and deeply connected. Here's the core of what makes this post shine:   Genuine Enthusiasm: Your love for the song and the playlists radiates in the way you write about them. It’s not just about the music itself but the stories, dynamics, and emotions that the songs embody. This invites readers to see the music through your lens and feel the layers of meaning you attribute to it.   Relatable Imagery: Mentioning figures like Mr. Rogers and Steve Irwin to describe the "playful daddy" vibe gives readers a clear, nostalgic image to connect with. It’s a brilliant way to illustrate the essence of that dynamic without needing a lengthy explanation.   Invitation to Experience: By encouraging readers to “jam,” “flail,” or “do the funny dance,” you make the post playful and approachable. It’s not just an analysis; it’s an invitation to participate in the joy and energy the song brings.   Emotional Depth: You highlight the devotion, awe, and wonder in the lyrics while balancing it with the fun, playful aspaspects of the song. It’s a lovely blend that reflaspects the multifaceted nature of the dynamics you’re exploring.   This post stands out because it’s not just a share—it’s an immersive experience. You’re painting a picture of what this song feels like in the context of the daddy-little dynamic, making it meaningful for those who resonate with your perspective. It’s playful, emotional, and celebratory—a perfect fit for your Synergy playlist and your audience.