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LanceLake
Pan Male Submissive, 52, Harrisburg, Pennsylvania 

Captivating Crouching Dragon Craves Cunning Countess to Command & Control His Consummate Commitment




I am a formidable dragon of the BDSM realm, waiting to be tamed and taken by an enthralling enchantress. Though fierce, I kneel only for those who prove themselves worthy of capturing this fiercely loyal and skilled beast. Are you the fearless Mistress who can command the inferno that burns within me?


Having surrendered myself to the will of unforgettable enchantresses before, I come bearing a sharpened set of skills in service and pleasure. Allow me to indulge you with my expertise in massage, bodyguard services, and exceptional computer knowledge. Should you wish for a specific skill to better serve and please you, I will eagerly acquire it under your guidance.


As a respected Alpha Submissive/Slave, my journey through the tangled web of BDSM has brought me invaluable experience in consensual, ethical non-monogamy. My collar rests solely upon the neck of one enchantress at a time; though if you command it, I will gladly serve a couple as a unified entity.


The ethereal enchantress I seek understands the Old School/Old Guard beliefs and embraces them, knowing that the dance of power exchange goes beyond the realm of mere physicality. She is a mad scientist of the mind, cunning and infinitely wise, unafraid to push both our limits and experiment with unthinkable scenarios, teetering on the edge of forbidden darkness.


In offering my unwavering loyalty and devotion to my enchantress, I bring forth my complete and brutally honest communication. Straightforward and genuine, our connection will thrive on candor and unwavering trust.


Should you be that enthralling enchantress, daring enough to claim this potent dragon, feel free to reach out and ask any questions that intrigue you.


 


I eagerly await the opportunity to relinquish my infernal power to the one who will guide me into new realms of submission and devotion. Thank you for considering commanding my unwavering loyalty and servitude.

You need to be local for me to consider you. Sorry, but I don't do online training.



I'm using livejournal now for my journal entries.

www.livejournal.com/users/Lance_Lake




Well, I've put up some more pictures on this website for people to gawk at. :)

Picture #1: These's the origional. The Black and White taken at a LARP I used to go to.

Picture #2: Me and my wife at our wedding.

Picture #3: A more modern picture of me. My wife says I look good in it, but I dunno. :)

Picture #4: My wife. I say she looks good, but she disagrees.. Hrm... I see a patern here.

I found a poem that touched my heart trully.. Thank you Chya for pointing this one out to me.
======================
A lonely submissive slowly climbed the stairs
And unto her computer did go
Her movements were slow and filled with pain
Her limbs were stiff and slow

She eased herself into the chair
And tried wisely not to cry out
As her abused flesh did protest and rage
From this latest D/s bout

He had claimed to be a Master
She knew him now to be nothing of the kind
He had weaved his lies so skillfully,
And she wondered, "Could time ease this pain of heart and mind?"

Not just the pain of battered flesh
She knew, in a few days that would fade
But the pain in her soul, the shattered trust
The mockery of everything she held dear that he had made.

She remembered how she had trusted once her dearest friend
Who then told her this was a disease that she could lick.

She thought how at work, she stood so tall
When what she really wanted to do was kneel
And how men would ask her for a date
Never understanding how she did truly feel.

"I know he is out there" she thought to herself
As she typed her password in
Not a sadist, or an abuser, but an honest man.
One who would understand the passons I hold within.

She knew that the hunt would soon go on
She knew what she had to find
He was out there somewhere...a proud strong Dom
Who would understand her heart, soul and mind.

One who would control her,
and yet would not abuse such trust
One to whom she could serve as a loving slave.
And who would not be overcome by his lust.

One to whom she could bend her knee
And not be seen the lesser for
One who would hold her, and mold her and make her his
And under whose boot, she could soar.

He who would understand this burning need
That made her different from the rest
One who would hold her, stroke her and make her feel safe
Even if she failed his test

"A man like that is worth the any cost"
She thought to herself, deep within her mind
What is broken flesh, or promises and trust
If such a Master I can find.

One who can fill my days with happiness
And fill my nights with passon and with love...
One who would make me crawl beneath His boots
Or soar in the stars above?

Someday I will find Him
Someday his collar shall I feel
Only then can this hurt be over
As in pride before him I do kneel

And somewhere...not all that far away
There before a computer screen
A Master read a profile
And well understood what the words did mean

For he knew that he was a Hunter
and that was yet the hunted, all in one.
He reached his hand out to his mouse and smiled,
As once again, the dance began

"Perhaps this one" he thought to himself
As he entered the command
"Not a gamer or liar, a head case or whore
But one who will, with honesty kneel before me where I stand."

One who would take that which I would give
And give that which I would take.
She with the yen to match my yang
Within each a thirst for the other to drink.

And so even now, the game goes on
Where Hunter and hunted are one
A dance of love and respect, of passion and trust,
With each other, something wonderful begun!

The poem is entitled "The Dance" by SirWolf



Wow.. It's been a long time since I wrote in this.. :)

Well, let's see.. The Kid is growing up fine. I'm constantly amazed in how much he's learning everyday.

Things are strained around the house with VAS. It's tough being a Dom/Sub couple when there's children about. We have to keep it quiet and make sure we aren't corrupting young minds (yet). But also, we don't seem to have the time or the energy for a scene after we put him to bed.. So it's tiring.

I've taken up trying to find a sub to join us again. Not as a live-in, but just someone to play with and there are a few that seem promising. We will have to see what time brings about.
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Seduced by the similarities, but buggered by the differences   This was a phrase I coined while leading a business initiative for an Australian company trying to bring their product into the UK. It ended up being one of the most stressful chapters of my career. At first glance, everything looked aligned: The same (or at least similar) language A shared business need Comparable economic environments And so on But as we got deeper into the work, the differences began to surface: Cultural and attitudinal mismatches between the people involved Regulatory goals that didn’t quite line up Different interpretations of seemingly simple terms like “independent” Very different ways of handling conflict And more little surprises The stress built, and eventually the whole thing collapsed—not with a dramatic bang, but with the slow, weary “death by a thousand cuts” that happens when one key player refuses to acknowledge problems that have become impossible to ignore. Why bring this up here? Because there’s a striking parallel in the world of trying to find a compatible partner in BDSM. It’s incredibly easy to see a profile—someone calling themselves a submissive or a slave, someone listing their likes and dislikes—and think, “Ah, promising match!” We assume we know what they mean. We assume they know what they mean. But that’s not always the case. Something that feels wonderful at the start can hit speed bumps quickly as tiny cracks appear and widen. Tension rises, misunderstandings multiply, and… well, you can guess the rest. Finding a truly compatible, sustainable partner can feel a bit like throwing a dart blindfolded from 100 yards away and hoping to hit the bullseye. And yet, we’re all still here trying. So on some level, we must believe the effort is worth it.
Chapter one - Sweet Slave (Or, How it all Began). A story I wrote for fetlife.I take the bottle of wine from the fridge and pull the cork, giving it a little time to breathe. I dice the onions, and throw them in the pan. I like that sizzling sound they make... I add the spices, then diced chicken breast. I let it brown a little, before adding the coconut milk and putting the rice on. I get a text from you - you're on your way. I start dressing the table - a rose in a vase, a candle in a brass candlestick, nothing too fancy. I'm not the fancy kind, I don't want to give the wrong impression this early on in a relationship. If this works out, I want it to be for the right reasons. The doorbell rings shortly afterwards. You're smiling as I open the door and ask you in, you genuinely seem pleased to be here - pleased to see me. "I didn't know what else to bring," you say, handing me a bottle of red wine. I smile and kiss your cheek, then take you to the kitchen, where the meal is spread out already. You give me a coy smile as I pull out a chair for you to sit down. "This looks amazing." You take a bite. "You weren't lying, you really do know how to cook!" you exclaim. "This tastes amazing, my local takeaway could learn a thing or two from you..." you giggle a little as you speak. "Honestly, it's such a simple recipe, and I just add a little double cream, it gives it something extra," I say, glad that you seem to be honestly enjoying the food. I pour you a little wine and smile at you. "I'm really glad you agreed to this, I know it must make you very nervous," I say. "I haven't had much luck with first dates in the past. I don't seem to make a good impression until someone truly gets to know me. I guess that's why I wanted to chat online for a while before we actually did this." You smile and look down at your plate, pushing food around, then taking a bite. You glance up at me and smile again, blushing a little. "I'm very shy around people I like - you know, that way," you say. "I was glad you wanted to go slowly at first too." I smile back at you, a sweetness seems to wash over me from your direction. I'm a little enamoured by you already, but I dare not say that to you, in case it scares you off. Something inside me feels your submissive nature - your little glances at me, the way you hide your face partially with your silky hair. The way you blush when our eyes meet, and immediately look at the floor, smiling. I like it. I kinda want to growl at you, but that feels premature. We finish dinner, then we sit down to watch the movie we'd decided on beforehand. Amélie. We've both seen it before and loved it, but neither of us has seen it in a long time - so it seemed a safe way to spend a little time together. I put my arm around you and we watch the film, wonderfully quirky yet romantic, watching Amélie fall for Nino. As the movie ends, I find that you've wrapped yourself up in my arms and you're clinging to my arm, resting against me like I'm a giant teddy bear. You start sucking on my thumb... I look at you for a moment. I'm not certain what to make of this action. You turn to me and smile. "I'm... I don't know why I did that..." you say, looking concerned. I smile at you, letting you know I don't mind, and you smile back, relaxing visibly. I kiss you... You tense up and squeak, then let out a little sigh as you relax. I put my hand on your back and pull you closer, you put your arms around my neck in return, and we kiss - gently at first, but heat builds up between us and it's not long before we're kissing with a fervent passion. I push you down onto the sofa and pin your arms above your head, kissing you into the sofa. You moan and put your legs around my waist. I break the kiss and growl at you. You squeak again, then look at me like a naughty schoolgirl. You have the same thing on your mind as I do. I pick you up, carry you to the bedroom, and put you on the bed gently. I start undressing you as I kiss you, getting a little rougher with each garment tossed aside - until finally I tear your panties off and toss them who knows where. I rub your pubic mound in circles as I kiss you, teasing you, and you let out a little moan. I break the kiss and look into your gorgeous, sparkling eyes. You look comfortable, I see no fear in your eyes, just a naughty twinkle. "I have something for you," I say. I take a pair of fur-lined cuffs from my side table and I secure your wrists to the headboard. I pull your legs apart and I settle between your thighs, my face so close to your sex you can feel my breath. You have a buttplug in your ass, topped with a heart-shaped crystal. I rub it gently in circles for a moment, teasing you with it. "Oh, oh, I umm..." you start to say, but I lick your clitoris and you let out a squeal. "Oh, lordy, please don't stop..." you whisper, breathlessly. I lick your clitoris until it starts to engorge, then I start sucking on it gently. You squeal again, looking down at me, and we lock eyes as I pleasure you with my mouth. "I've never... No-one's... Oh, my god..." you say, seeming a little overwhelmed. I push a finger into you gently and you gasp, your breath hitching a little. "Please, please don't stop, or I'll explode," you say to me, eyes practically begging. I feel you open up and I push another finger into you, fingering you for a few moments before I turn my fingers upward, find your G-spot and massage it gently with both fingers. You hit the back of your head on the pillow repeatedly, then lie back and whisper "What... What are you doing to me??". It barely takes a minute and you're panting. I build up pressure on your G-spot, licking and sucking your clit with more enthusiasm. You start to roll your hips involuntarily, which I take as a sign that you're close, so I up the pressure a little more, watching you closely for signs I'm overdoing it - but you just squirm on the bed, eyes closed, rubbing your cheek against your arm and gasping. You seem to be trying to say something, but you're clearly too overwhelmed to manage to get your thoughts into some cohesive form. I feel you tighten around my fingers and your body shudders. Your legs tremble gently and you arch your back. "Ohhh... Oh my... My lord... OOOOH! OOOOH FUCK!" I smile. I know you're not big on profanity, so I take this as a very good sign. Moments later, you're smiling down at me, panting. You look at me with such affection that I think you're going to propose to me for a moment, but then you say "No one's ever done that to me before. Please tell me we can do that again sometimes, it was amazing". I smile up at you. "Only all the time, gorgeous. But now, it's my turn." I pull your legs up either side of your head and penetrate you gently. You immediately squeal out in pain, screwing up your eyes. I pull out. "I... I haven't... It's been a long time..." you say. I stroke your hair and push a finger gently into your wetness. You let out a sigh, and I finger you gently, slipping in another finger, then after a while, I feel you open enough that I can slip in a third. "You're extremely tight, gorgeous," I say. You look embarrassed. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie. I'm sorry I hurt you." "I... I kinda liked it..." you say. I look at you and let out an involuntary growl. My fingers come out of you and my dick goes in. You bite your lip and squeak again. "Tell me how you feel," I say. "It hurts a little... But I like it... Please, don't stop..." you reply. You
i really cooked with this one. kitty gang kitty gang kitty gang ah.     being a mystic of the scriber variety i have learned when i am going through something of a personal nature that is just for me to figure out on my own and hold deep in my heart. but there are often things that i'm going through that the collective is going through. either as fellow femmes be it afab woman gay men with a feminine essence non gendered third gendered with a feminine vibe..all in between...or even a human experience...there are times where i'm going through something.i was going through something..something is coming for me to come through that is a MESSAGE. this is one i know that i'm not alone in..i see it on social media all the time. this is a collective thing for femmes. i hear it when i do leave the house....but this one is more raw for me because i haven't mastered it yet. and it's something i actively work on, prayer, meditation magic to the self, therapy, inner work, inner dialogue, dialoguing with coaches, working with my sisters..practicing carrying wood, chopping water..under the cold as ice water meditating.....running up the stairs rocky style trying to master.....i am better at this now..but the deep raw wound..the deep raw wild unbridled intense all consuming pull..it's still very real for me...and whenever i've been in a romantic relationship or trying to get one that never launches because dating a dark goddess with intuition and a deep psychic awareness of others emotions is a heavy task to sign up for...haha there is no hiding with someone like me and most men can't hang. and even those that want the challenge will often be met past their personal limits and ragequit out quietly or loudly.  this one is harder for me to share because i'm still in the belly of the beast with this. i haven't mastered this yet. i'm much better than i was in my 20s...and each time before i ejected myself from the sauce i got better and better..but there's still so much for me to master..and these feelings..they are so primal it's hard to wrangle or even admit is a thing. but this is definately a collective message i am individually still working on figuring out the solution too that i'm being called to be bold, brave, and as a mystic scriber connect myself to.   the vulnerability has to this point earned me zero dollars, so no bacon yet....but the bacon is in the spiritual emotional mental decorations i have as a solider of love. ai no message with a puffed chest not fake but due to everything i have and will go through that many will never recover from or begin to touch. a puff my chest for knowing the depths of what i have and will face. an earned prowess.   being vulnerable about what’s hard for you and acknowledging the discomfort as part of the mystic path. It’s that raw honesty, mixed with the courage to embrace being “a lot,” that resonates deeply. Mystics often have to sit with their shadows and discomfort, and turning that into glory is part of what makes the journey so transformative. Writing about this, even when it’s difficult, is where the real magic happens. You’re not just owning your strength but also showing others the deep, spiritual work behind it. It’s a brave, warrior-like approach to the mystic path, facing the discomfort head-on to find glory on the other side.   let me call in my sophia encoded soul sister doja cat here. when you play at this level people confuse the outward expression with being troubled and alone...we usually only get this way becauseeeeeeeee we have the outside support including therapy..we only GET to unearth this rawness because we AREN'T alone..don't confuse the heavy topics and unraveling with aimless direction.   "I read it, all the comments sayin', "D, I'm really shooketh" "D, you need to see a therapist, is you lookin'?" Yes, the one I got, they really are the best Now I feel like I can see you bitches is depressed I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest   Look at me, look at me, I'm naked Vulnerability earned me a lot of bacon I put a thong all in my ass and taught you how to shake it I paid all my respect to those who taught me how to make it And now I reap the benefits with no confrontation Y'all fall into beef but that's another conversation I'm sorry, but we all find it really entertaining 'Cause we all wanna see them slip and fall right on their faces And we all wanna be the one to see the devastation Not be in it, but ain't the bad press good? The disrespect's real, how this Patek look? Pull out the checkbook, now why your neck crooked? I never learn to superstar from a textbook Talkin' 'bout, "She fallin' off, why she get booked?" Man, I been humble, I'm tired of all the deprecation Just let me flex, bruh, just let me pop shit "Why she think she Nicki M? She think she hot shit," hmm I never gave a F, go stir the pot, bitch I got y'all head all in the dirt just like a ostrich Of course, you bitches comparin' Doja to who the hottest" a love and light bitch would do naked to appeal to the male sexuality or the light sexuality. she would be posing provocatively to entice someone to want to fulfill their urges to touch themselves to engage and interact with the sexual energy. they would've touted a good girl sweet aesthetic, a girl next door or a playboy bunny vibe. we're old enough and human enough to know what sex is for a man of any gender that is attracted to a woman be it straight pansexual bisexual whatever. we know what the vibe is....when a man and woman think sex and naked we know.   doja is my tribe she is a wolf she is a devil as she said a demon a yokai like me.   we're bloody when we're naked. we stare at you deep in your soul. if you tussle with us we look you in your eye that's why so many black rapper lilith girls rap that we stare you in the eye when we're fucking because we ain't scared. those eyes maybe white in the back of our sockets but we're doing it because we face the uncomfortableness head on. her body stance isn't leaning to a side or trying to make curves...it isn't trying to be soft or feminine or wild or water....it's at attention it's direct it's commanding it's powerful. her chest isn't hiding her breads it is straight puffing it.   she's bloody because like me we face our uncomfortableness over and over and over again. this is a different type of naked..and if you tussle with a dark goddess of any variety and are blessed to either emotionally mentally spiritually or even hitting the jackpot of love and sexually be naked with her..this is what you get. kudos for the sacred sigil symbology here too sis. love her for that. we're magical girls with foresight.   and yet with all this power.....there's a deep struggle....in this level of nakedness...in how we engage with the complimentary but opposite energetics of men and how they operate and their worlds and how they are made....ad doja is helping me dive into that; if you listen to the song..how does she say look at me? it's not nice, it's not sweet....IT'S DESPERATE IT'S LIKE SOMEONE YELLING CLAWING BEGGING MAD AGGRESSIVE WAILING OVERWHELMING IT'S DIFFERENT LAYERS OF FEELING ALL IN ONE WILD CHAOTIC SECOND. LOOK. AT. M.E LEWKATME LEWK-AT-ME.....   LOOK AT ME   and for the men who aren't sacred away by that passion and want to try and will reach back and will touch and won't ghost, won't dip, won't demonize, won't therapize, won't logic but meet this wild nature creature..how does she respond?   qui
We've gotten a few questions, people asking for more info about me dating the Trump supporter. We're still dating! When Kamala entered the race, I teased him a few times about losing to a woman and he'd always make it a point to tell me later (when I was tied up or bent over or otherwise had him inside me) that November wasn't going to change anything for me, that I'd still be fucking him on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, basically anytime he wanted. We don't get too into the details - he's not super politically engaged and it's actually kind of upsetting to think about the state of the country, and how rights are being taken away all the time, when I'm in a relatively privileged position and choosing to indulge in this kind of play. A few people asked how we met. We're in the same grad school program and he's always starting arguments about politics and "how come people don't just get a driver's license if they want to vote so bad", that kind of thing. I'd always jump in and push back, and he told me later that he liked getting me riled up. He said he liked seeing me flush and get upset and try to convince him of things when he didn't really care. We chatted a few times before classes and he'd be incredibly forward so he knew I was married, knew I wanted kids, made a few comments if I wore a choker or a fashion collar. After class one night, my car battery was dead so he came over and gave me a jump. We were the only ones left in the lot so while we were standing outside in the dark, he slid his hands in the back pockets of my jeans and pulled me against him. I instinctively reached back and he trapped my hands and held them behind my back while kissing me, jamming his tongue in my mouth. I blew him in his car and we made plans to go out that weekend. He's pretty rough and he loves being in charge. My husband will buy all sorts of bondage toys and I'll take them to the cop's apartment and that's where they stay. He keeps bondage straps on his mattress, has a spreader bar that he straps my hands and ankles to, has all of my favorite ball gags and blindfolds and plugs. He's also incredibly respectful, in his own way. He doesn't push limits we've discussed and I've gotten him to say things like "do you want me inside you?" which is as close to consent as he's interested in, but is still a huge deal. I let him take pictures of me tied up and naked as long as he obscures my face. I know men always show their friends and there's always the chance he revenge porns me if we break up, and he totally understood without arguing. He said he hears about that at work from teens and he knows it's a huge problem. Last story - he had me tied up recently, wrists and ankles on the spreader bar, gagged, a black hood over my entire head. Then his doorbell rang and he let in one of his buddies. We had discussed before that I was open to other men but I wasn't going to let them fuck me without protection. And here I was, ass up in the air, a stranger carassing me, unbuckling his belt. I started whimpering and wiggling my fingers. I was starting to make our safety signal when I heard him say "dude, condom, come on." I'm not going to say chivalry isn't dead but it made me feel good that he wasn't like "huh huh huh just fuck her in the ass huh huh huh." I gave them both a hell of a ride in gratitude. And to answer the most common question, no I'm not pregnant yet!
Bridget Choses Enslavement   Bridget’s emotions were running wild.  The ride up to Master’s gave her ample time to reflect on this special occasion.  Bridget was to be enslaved today.  Master had often told her that all women secretly wanted to be possessed and owned by a dominant master.  Collared.  Be an enslaved slut.  Bridget had embraced her inner slave and wanted the delicious certainty of being a strong Master’s owned property.  What a glorious feeling to have no need to carry on with the soul killing charade of denying her sexuality, her submission, her needs and desires. Bridget was so sure.  She couldn’t wait for their special ritual.  The ritual was ordered by her Master but she had made adjustments and additions that had delighted Master.  She knew Master treasured her and all of her. He often remarked on her intelligence and how it drove her kink and also drove his passion to be her owner.  Master always said women with a desire for the collar, for enslavement were usually the very intelligent ones.   Before she left home Bridget paid attention in the shower.  Her shaving was meticulous. Her legs, arms, and pussy were smooth as possible. She thrilled at the thought of the way Master would cup her smooth, oiled pussy and run his hand back and forth as she squirmed and moaned. She knew Master loved to lick and kiss her clit.  He also like to use his Hitachi and a soft makeup brush on her.  He’d alternate the vibrator and brush on her clit.  Sometimes he’d just stop and listen to her breathing.  Bridget loved it when he chained her wrists and ankles in his bed and made her come over and over until she screamed.  He’d gag and blindfold her and make her come some more. Master had learned early in their play to put a towel under her.  The wet spot was something to see. Bridget’s enslavement ritual outfit was all white and had been her idea.  Master had suggested adding long white gloves and she agreed with relish.  Once out of the shower, at Master’s direction, she installed two Ben Wa balls in her pussy.  They went in nicely.  When she walked around she could feel them as she moved.  She wondered if walking in heels would accentuate the sensation.  Oh well, she’d find out soon.  Bridget loved Master’s toy collection.  He had a veritable fleet of vibrators including a very useful remote controlled beauty.  Master said he was shopping for an internet controlled vibrator for some long distance fun.  He also had a selection of nipple clamps, some fun and some she feared.  There was a lot more and she was sure the list was growing After carefully pulling on her white stockings and attaching them to her sexy garter she slipped on her skimpy white panties.  A curvy white push up bra completed her underwear.  She had a nice white blouse with a plunging neckline that accentuated her cleavage. Her brief white skirt would expose her slim legs and white stockings.  Finally she slipped on her white high heels with thosecute sexy little ankle straps.  Naturally she added accessories like a string of pearls and a bright red lipstick.  She decided she’d add her fragrance and put on the white gloves when she arrived at Masters. The miles rolled by.  Her heart sang.  She had made her decision.  It felt so right.  All the things she wanted to experience would be hers in a safe and protected place.  Master would help to explore all the dark kinky places she dreamed about.   The highway intersection appeared on her GPS. She had to turn north.   It was time to call Master.  She heard the phone ring.  Her emotions ping ponged.  Master answered with a pleased voice.  She was close.  He could almost sense her.  They both reveled in the joy of anticipation.     Master remarked that he was looking forward to draping her with his new 1/8” stainless steel chain.  Perhaps chaining her breasts with a nice halter.  When he mentioned that he’d like to chain her in Sirik Bridget’s was incredibly turned on.  The thought of the chain running from her collar to the chained wrist manacles and finally ending on the ankle manacles.  Sirik chain bondage allowed movement but served to remind her that she was owned, protected property.  Master loved everything Gorean and spent a lot of time finding ways to practically adapt the mores of Gor to earth.  A significant Gorean notion is that bondage enhances a woman’s beauty.  Bridget agreed but also concluded bondage made her horny as hell. The rural setting, the trees, the quiet appealed to her.  Here’s the driveway.  Turning right and pulling up the long driveway she found herself next to Master’s car and she knew, the beginning of her life changing event was close at hand.  She put her car in park and applied the parkingbreak.  She felt that she also applied a break on her normal, vanilla life.  She would enter the BDSM Sea.  Enter it as one of the more exotic and nuanced denizens.  She would be a slave girl, specifically a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  Bridget and Master had discussed many aspects of enslavement, slave protocols, sexual ownership, and what they each wanted.  She agreed with Master that after all, it was at its heart, an exotic adult game.  They both knew few could play the game, few could accept their role, and few could adhere to the rules and enjoy them with intense satisfaction.  Bridget loved her role and while their private play was so satisfying, she looked forward to their forays into various forms of public play.  Public Play involved exposing part of her BDSM life to the vanilla world.  Bridget always found it surprising.  She couldn’t believe the naughty sense of excitement she felt when she was exposed.  Was it humiliation, she wasn’t sure but it was very kinky indeed. She applied the bright red lipstick.  She loved the color and loved that her Master had told her he loved bright paint on her lips.  He said she was so attractive and luscious and he wanted her lips prominently displayed for him.  Next her fragrance, chosen because it was both understated and exotic.  At last she pulled on the long white gloves that came up to her elbows. Bridget and Master had discussed how she’d wear the long white gloves and he’d hogtie her and use his ball gag.  The picture in her mind of the helpless position always made her wet and horny.  Master had done this before.  Usually he rubbed a rabbit fur all over her body before he pulled her hair and squeezed her tit while he told her how he felt, what he wanted, and what he’d do with her next. As she turned toward the house she found the garage door open and as she had been instructed, she entered the garage and went to the back door leading into Master’s Rec room.  The lighting was subdued but she saw two large shapes draped in thin cloth.  She knew these were their BDSM toys.  Master had built a large cage for her amusement and a sturdy St Andrews cross that would fulfill her desire to be suspended and held helpless. Master had promised to cuff and chain her to the cross.  She knew she’d be naked and looked forward to the way master slipped a gag into her mouth before he applied something to her ass. Usually he forced a silicone bit gag into her mouth before he used his snake whip on her.  She could bite down on the bit and scream at the same time for the serious relief she craved.  Master had assured her she’d receive a serious whipping and perhaps caning that would leave some minor marks.  She wanted the marks.  She wanted to feel his touch afterward.  She wanted all of the things that ownership demanded. She knew Master had plans for an interesting combination Stocks and Spanking Bench.  Bridget had told Master she’d love to be placed in stocks and have her ass molested, pinched, bit, and butt plugged. She wondered if he’d make good on his promise to administer an enema while in the stocks.  Master had a lot of toys and equipment.  He had showed her the enema paraphernalia and it included an interesting flow meter that Master said was important to ensure reasonable flow and comfort.    Climbing the stairs she heard Master’s voice and it made her heart skip a beat.  She loved the way he spoke to her.  He didn’t speak at her rather he spoke with her, sharing his thoughts and sometimes emotions.  Master was sitting in a large black leather chair.  He was wearing his black suit with a black mandarin shirt and a nice red pocket square.  He leaned forward and motioned for her to come up.  He wondered about her trip and if the Ben Wa balls were still in place and how she liked them.  She told him about her journey and, yes, the Ben Wa twins were still in place and had directed her attention at the oddest of times, like stepping on the brakes. He asked her if she was ready, if she wanted to go through with their plans.  Did she really want all the things they had planned for, had discussed.  She knew what he was asking, giving her a graceful out.  Her mind was made up but his trust and care made her even more convinced that she wanted enslavement, wanted slavery, wanted to be an owned woman, Master’s property.  All of their discussions had led to this decision.  They both saw a Master/slave relationship as the purest and incidentally most fun form of a BDSM power exchange.  Both of their roles had been defined in term that made sense to both Bridget answered him by unbuckling her shoe clasps and removing her heels.  Pulling the ribbon from her hair she let it fall loose about her shoulders.  Bridget smiled at her Master and began removing all her clothing.  Finally she stood before her Master totally naked.  Master seemed very pleased. He rose and ran his fingers gently all over Bridget.  Master believed that a Gorean Master took great pride in his Kajira, his slave and should be familiar with every inch of her. Bridget knew that her actually collaring demanded that she be naked. She knelt gracefully before him, raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists.  Bridget had assumed the Kolar or collar position of a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  She knew the message she was sending was that she was ready to be bound and collared.  Naturally she looked down and waited for Master.  The decision was not only made but by showing her acceptance of their planned bond to her Master she knew it was done.  How happy, how fulfilled.  She almost wanted to cry the emotions were so strong. Her life as a Kajira, a Gorean slave was about to begin.  See accepted that she must always be pleasing and offer perfect obedience. Master formally asked her why she was before him and what were her deepest desires for enslavement.  She continued to look down and at first her voice was a whisper but as she gained confidence she became secure and spoke with a clear steady voice.  She asked to be enslaved.  She pledged to serve Master in all ways.  She would be pleasing at all times with perfect obedience.  She would be the owned possession of Master, subject to his commands, dressing as he directed.  She spoke the words of enslavement, “bind me master”. She spoke the timeless pledge saying she wished to be enslaved and then crossing her wrists in front of her asked that Master bind her.  She felt the ceremonial tying of her wrists with the traditional Gorean yellow bindings.  Master then said he would complete the ceremony, their enslavement ritual, by collaring her.  She felt the collar begin to encircle her throat.  She gasped as he pulled her hair back so he could buckle the collar.  Her formal slave collar was polished metal and had a screw driven locking mechanism.  It would be difficult or next to impossible to remove, not that Bridget would ever think about removing the symbol that encircled her throat.  Master completed fastening her collar.  He took her chin in his hand and remarked on her beauty and suitability to be his Kajira. Master removed the bindings from her wrists and ordered her to stand and had her turn around slowly to display herself. She looked at herself and saw the beautiful collar.  All she could say was “La Kajira, La Kajira”, Gorean for I am a slave. Bridget now understood in a most intimate way that her master treasured her and wanted to enjoy his treasure.  Master had two more things to complete the ritual and the first had Bridget very nervous.  Bridget knew she was to be branded.  Thankfully the branding didn’t call for a real white hot branding iron.  Bridget received a henna dye print representation of the Gorean Kef, a very delicate elaborately beautiful “K”, leaving a sharp red image high on her left thigh.  Next Master spoke her new slave name. When Bridget and Master were together in their new roles, she would be “Sefa”.  Master explained that her new slave name was pronounced SEHF-ah and meant pleasure.  He said she was named that way to remind her how she must always be his pleasure slave.  She didn’t think that would ever be a problem. It was done. Bridget had been collared, branded, and named.   Master said he accepted her as his Kajira.  Master directed her to put on her garter, stockings, panties, and heels.  He snapped a leash onto her collar ring and said “bracelets”.  Bridget immediately put her wrists behind her back, slightly bowed her head, and turned around to receive Master’s manacles. Using the leash and her bound wrists he moved her forward.  Master led her around a bit and then out around the deck. Master often told her that bondage made a woman more beautiful and that served to make her move in a sensuous, elegant manner.  Bridget agreed and could think of nothing better than to be on her knees with her Master’s cock in her mouth. He took her over to a chair by the deck table.  He motioned for her to kneel.  He unclipped the leash and attached a short piece of chain to her collar.  The chain was connected to a d-ring embedded in one of the large deck posts.  Bridget was chained to a post with her wrists bound.  Never before had she felt so at peace.  She was owned.  She had been confined on her Master’s deck.  She felt the chain on her chest.  Bridget’s excitement was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation.  She was on her knees dressed like a tarty slut, out in the open for all the world to see.  She realized that Master was exhibiting her as his prize possession.  Of course she thought, it’s highly unlikely we’ll be disturbed.  We’re out in the woods on a secluded property with foliage all around.  Master laughed and said UPS or FEDEX might show up. Bridget’s life as a slave had begun.  She wished and waited for what was next.  Master said she was to be caged in his slave pen after they had discussed their enslavement ritual.  Master took a plate of fruit and picked up a small piece of melon.  He held it out for her to nibble. She daintily nibbled the fruit.  She was being fed by Master’s hand.  She felt a deep bond and happiness.  Next Master poured some of his cool drink into a small bowel.  He placed it before her and motioned for her to drink.  He was watering his slave, caring for his prize possession.  She knelt before the bowel and lapped at the drink. She felt so humiliated to be made to drink in this fashion but it also was so deliciously kinky.   Her journey had begun.  Life would never be the same.  A calmness, a fullness, a richness had descended on her soul.  Master caressed her cheek and breasts and then checked the manacles.  He also adjusted her collar.  Bridget knew master would always make sure she looked her best.  She was his prize possession. Master leaned back and took a small velvet sack from the side table.  “Nadu” Master commanded and Bridget went into the slave position that had her kneeling with her wrists behind her back. Bridget was fascinated  She knelt with her thighs spread wide, back arched, wrists crossed behind her back.  Master produced a bright red ball gag and told her to open her mouth. Bridget felt the ball pressed tightly into her mouth as Master firmly buckled the gag in place.  She found her hands bound behind her back, and the ball gag reduced her to small whimpers to communicate.  She knew she was vulnerable and totally in the control of her master.  It was delicious.  It made her wet just to think of all the things he would do with her.  The bracelets were gleaming metal and had a short length of chain between them so they were relatively comfortable. Master helped Bridget to stand.  He pulled her panties down to her ankles and helped her bend over. He guided her to lay across his lap and began to stroke and kneed her ass cheeks.  Master remarked that she had a pleasingly plump ass that just begged to be spanked.  Bridget felt her Master applying some kind of oil on her ass cheeks.  She wiggled across his lap into a more comfortable position. It made her feel exposed, controlled, at her Master’s mercy.  Bridget couldn’t believe how excited she felt, how she wanted more, more attention, more control. Master told Bridget that he wanted to assert his ownership, make sure she knew she was his property.  Bridget whimpered her assent. She wanted to be his,begged her master to have her, to make her his own, anyway he wanted.  Just do it now. Master began a slow rhythmic paddling of Bridget’s ass.  Slowly at first but soon faster and harder.  Bridget moaned and gasped. Master paused and asked Bridget if she was his, his property. Bridget thought “yes, yes, yes, have me, have all of me.  I am your Kajira and want to be nothing else”.  Master held up one finger which was the signal for silence Bridget was surprised that Master had shut her up, to be quiet.  She understood that he wanted to be in control.  He told her he felt so completed by their rituals.   Master loved the idea that they had built their own kinky world and Bridget loved the way he ruled it. He could silence her with a command or perhaps a gag.  She loved the delicious excitement when he placed a nice red silicone ball gag in her mouth.  Naturally Master could silence her by imposing speech restrictions and she always complied but the ball gag was so hot. Master reached behind her to the small table by his large leather chair.  Bridget felt his movement and turned her head.  “Oh my” she thought as Master’s hand held the red ball gag, a shiny bright metal butt plug, and a tube of lubrication.  Her heart beat faster as she realized she was in for another anal training session.  
The Reward i am kneeling before Goddess's throne, with my back straight, my shoulders back, and my head bowed, as posture protocol requires. Leather cuffs on my ankles and my thighs are connected by a short length of chain, such that i cannot lift myself up at all. A plug is in my ass, but it is not a large one. It stretches me only gently. My cock and balls are tightly bound with a long shoestring, which wraps around them in many devious ways. It bites deeply into the most sensitive parts of my body, which throb with arousal and distress. i am engorged but cannot sustain a full erection, and the parts of me which throb are a deep purple, or at least, they feel that way. She was quite flirtatious as She bound me so. She caressed me in all manners of ways. She bit and pinched me tenderly, playfully. She pressed the most tantalizing parts of Her beautiful body against mine. She calls me a good boy, and a sweet boy, and a lovely little slut. She says i've been a wonderful little plaything recently, and thinks it might be time for me to get a very special reward. She asks me if i think i deserve a reward. i reply that i hope so. How sweet, She says, and kisses me on the forehead. Next i feel a clamp attached to one of my balls, and then one just below the head of my cock. The clinking i hear makes clear that they are connected by a chain. Then the other side of my manhood is similarly adorned. I feel a different type of clamp attached to each my balls below the first pair. Then She is putting clothespins in every place on my cock and balls where there is a welcoming patch of skin. They bite deeply into my already anguished skin. i moan gently when the first clothespin is attached, and a bit more urgently as the numbers grow. i attempted to count them, but my concentration falters at 20. i feel tugging on the clamps, and hear more clinking of the chains. She orders me to arch my back and slump my shoulders down and forward. i feel a sharp upward tug on the clamps already on me, and then the sting of clamps on my nipples. She has looped the chains connecting the clamps on my nipples beneath the other chains, such that all the clamps are being tugged by the others, but the tension is not great. i am in significant pain, but i have withstood much worse. i long to do so now. i will adore Her for it. She kisses me on the forehead and sits on Her throne, and then Her stockinged feet are caressing my thighs. She pets my head as She again calls me a swe
A slave define destiny ; A slave surrenders all its human rights and civil liberties and indeed it has no real need of them. The slave is after all just a mere nonentity that is the owned property of its lawful owner. A slave is not its owners spouse, lover, friend, associate, colleague; it is its owners owned property...period. The slave cannot say what it pleases, do what it pleases or go where it pleases. It can only do what it is told and go where it is told.  Being a slave is by no means an easy option in life. A slave must have plentiful labor to keep it busy during the day so it’s never really idle.  Some owners require it to endure painful suffering in order to alleviate their own stressful anxieties and/or to enhance their three dimensional cathartic euphoria and improve and maintain their general well being. Even when safety is ensured it is no easy task for the slave to endure.  it has been the custom and tradition for a slave to be kept completely in various types of restraint to restrict but not prevent movement. Such restraints have varied but included shackles, locked or soldered collars, locked chastity restraints. These have served a purpose of demonstrating to the slave and to others that it is property that owns and has access to nothing of its own and that it is completely owned and under the absolute power of its designated owner. It also additionally served to reinforce the slavery through humiliation, degradation and subjugation.    When it comes to clothing there is little room for compromise. Clothing for a slave is a privilege and slaves clothing is chosen for them, they embrace the Masters desires plain and simple . Failure to adopt this simple rule will give the slave ideas above his station.    A slave belongs to its owner and is on the periphery of its owner’s life, not at the center of the owner’s life. It places a servile and support function role only. Its conduct in slavery must be impeccable and it must never ever let its owner down.  A slave is never allowed to look at its owner's face.  A slave should never ever have access to the same luxuries that a freeborn person has. It should be housed in a small locked room or a cage when it is resting or sleeping or otherwise not required. Adequate heating and ventilation provided along with food and drink and mobile toilet facilities during its confinement stay.  Once owned the slave should not have any further contact with family or friends nor should it watch television, listen to the radio, read newspapers, periodicals, books, use the computer, or telephone and write to anyone. It also has no right of complaint about its treatment as a slave or any right of appeal to a third party.  It is property that is owned and so it must remain. Once negotiations have ceased and agreement reached about the parameters of the said slavery, the slave itself must offer itself unconditionally and not place any hindrance in the way of its owner’s legitimate right to use her owned property as she herself chooses within the agreed parameters.   
PROFILE UPDATE: So to avoid being locked out of my account, I will make my updates here. Something to note, the age range here superceeds all other age requirements listed in any of my writings and profile.  Who and what I'm looking for: Service submissives and/slaves Ages 21 - 48 Anticipatory Service Service Submission Real time service  What I'm not looking for: Online Service Those who only want to talkThose who are over 50 years old Those who are sissies are looking for feminization. Not my kink! To be your kink dispensary.    MY KINKS IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER: Domestic servitude(s/s/b doing handy work, mechanical work, chores, personal care - whether you do it yourself or pay for it to be done) Impact Play: I love taking My bare hands to someone's ass cheeks, but I also love using floggers, riding crops, whips and paddles. I am happy at varying levels of impact play. Tease and Denial/Anticipation Co-topping with a fellow Domme/Dom Hair pulling Collars and leashes Face slapping Some small forms of humiliation Manners Kissing THINGS I AM OPEN TO WITH THE RIGHT PERSON/IN THE RIGHT CIRCUMSTANCES SUCH AS THOSE IN SEVITUDE TO ME AND THOSE WHO SHOW THEY ARE CONSISTENT IN THEIR SUBMISSION TO ME: Foot worship: If I form a relationship with a sub who has a foot fetish, I will indulge. CBT: If this is something that a cock having sub would like done. Pussy Torture - I am very fond of whipping Sensual Domination: I love making someone's skin tingle, whether it be from scratching, caressing, biting, or sucking on their inner thighs. I also live for making My subs melt into Me from hot, drawn out make-out sessions and sensation play.. Strap-ons Anal play/Pegging Face sitting and smothering view profile ›
Slave's Supplications or devotions Slave's Supplications or devotions: I beg you to use me for your pleasure. I desire nothing more than to be an that you can use for your enjoyment at any time. I beg You to allow me to please you. I beg to be made to live to worship you. Make me give you thanks when you honor me with punishment at your hand. My real punishment is having failed, and having disappointed you I would not deserve your attention. My body and mind are your property, now and until you may decide you have no further use for me. I beg you to make me feel your ownership of me everyday. Please, make me feel Your power over me, and Your total control of my life. I submit willingly to your power and domination. Please, make me feel my submission and your control throughout my day. I want to obey, serve and please you. Please allow me the privilege of calling you Master. I realize my sexuality and my orgasms are now your property, allowed to me as a special gift. I beg you to punish me severely if I ever have an orgasm without permission. I choose willingly to be treated as your property. I beg you to own me utterly and completely. I beg you to make me behave, and be a good boy/girl. Please allow me the privilege of your discipline when I misbehave. I beg you to control my clit/cock. When I may touch it, when it may be excited and when it may come. I know my cock/clit now belongs to you. I beg to be your property. Please help me become your greatest treasure. Living in Your Grace, my Master my God.
First meeting of 2023   Laura, a 39 year old female came this afternoon for a punishment session. Laura contacted me on another site about administering a punishment spanking for being disrespectful to her husband, spending too much money and generally being lazy around the house. Her husband, whilst not in the scene, suggested she get spanked as he thought it would be the only way she would 'get herself together' and start taking responsibility of her life and to stop acting like a teenager. He felt that she wouldn't take it seriously if he spanked her and he probably wouldn't do it properly. Laura was a slight woman, about 5'3", and I'd say 120lbs, shoulder length black hair, pale complexion, quite a few tattoos on her arms. She was wearing a red and black tee-shirt, black leggings, and thick soled, heeled shoes. Anyway, Laura was told to report to me at 2pm, she was HALF HOUR late!! Laura was a little sassy when she arrived, and a little cheeky when asked why she was late, "sorry", she said, "didn't think I was in the army", was her response. I immediately told her that lateness isn't tolerated and that I expect her to be here at the time I say. "bend over, now!" I said, and proceeded to take down her leggings. I gave her 6 very hard smacks! "Ow, ow, ow! sorry Sir!" I think she was surprised by how much it stung, having never been spanked before. Her eyes slightly teary. I told her to stand up and pull her leggings back up, I explained that it was her and her husband that asked me to punish her, so that's exactly what she'd get. The three of us agreed that Laura should have a thorough hand spanking, followed by the strap and finally the cane. I led Laura to my living room and immediately pulled her across my knee, I gave her 20 or so hard smacks on her bottom, then took down her leggings to her knees and followed up with a further 20 or so smacks. She was wearing small blue bikini briefs, not much protection. She made a lot of noise and wriggled about quite a bit, but this didn't stop me from continuing. She was definitely shocked by how much it hurt. I have large hands and I spank quite hard. Her pale bottom reddened really quickly, as I expected. I told her to stand up and strip, which she did without hesitation, then it was corner time for 10 minutes, hands on head and standing still. Laura had a reasonably fit looking body, medium sized breasts, pierced nipples, and was smooth all over. Her bottom was nicely pert, not too muscular, but had some 'meat' to it, for want of a better word. Once the 10 minutes were over, it was back over my knee. This time I put her over my left knee, and clamped her legs down with my right leg, and held her arm behind her back. This time she got three rounds of 30 spanks, very hard! Laura tried to wriggle a lot, and was pleading with me to stop through her crying. We didn't set a limit on hand spanking, I rarely do, however we did set a limit of 3x10 with the prison strap, and 3x5 with the traditional rattan cane. After the hand spanking finished, I told her to bend over my quite large leather pouffe, it's the perfect size for someone to be on all-fours, over the pouffe and still able to put hands on the floor on the other side. She waited there for 10 minutes, the crying reduced to sniffles. "Do you deserve this punishment?", I asked, "Yes Sir", "Did you expect it to hurt so much?", "No Sir" "Well that was only my hand, now you're going to get 30 with the strap" I gave her 10 fairly slow swats, not too hard. She cried out a lot, but took them well. Laura counted the next set of 10, "One, thank you Sir", "two, thank you Sir" ... etc. A little harder this time. She could barely speak now because she was crying so much. I re-assured her that she was taking the punishment well and that actions have consequences, so she should think about her behaviour in future. The final 10 came. She didn't count these. I spanked her quite hard and fast this time, her bottom was going from very red, to slightly bruised. She was told to stand against the wall a final time for 10 minutes, she was not rub her bottom. She was very sniffly so I offered her a tissue, I am compassionate lol. The time came for the three sets of five with the cane. I reiterated that the cane would hurt a lot and asked her if she accepted the punishment. "Yes Sir, I totally deserve this punishment" I put her in position ready for her caning, leaning against the wall, legs together, slightly bent over. She was told that she can wriggle about and make noise, but MUSTN'T break position or I'll start again. The first five strokes hurt a lot, she screamed. I could see her hands tense up, and her body straightened, tightening her bottom. Perfect strokes on my part, right across the sit spot. "ok, back into position", I told her. The next five strokes were to be counted, "One, I'm sorry for my behaviour", "Two, I'm sorry for my behaviour", etc. The strokes were reasonably slow, about every 5 seconds, giving her time to get back into position, and to say the line. I then proceeded to rub her bottom, and told that she'd done well, but the last five will hurt a lot. "Ok Sir, I'm ready" These strokes were hard and fast, no break in between strokes. Laura buckled, her body almost touching the wall. Immediately after the last stroke, she fell to the floor, crying and rubbing her bottom, which was now very bruised and sore. I comforted her and rubbed lotion into her bottom. I think the crying was more from the guilt of her behaviour, as much as from the pain of the spanking. I told her she could get dressed and have a drink of water. She was then free to leave. Laura apologised, but I said that she didn't have to apologise to me, but rather her husband. I told her that I hope the spanking was a good lesson to learn and that her husband should contact me again if she needs another punishment. So, a rather enjoyable first session of 2023, her husband has since messaged me to say that the punishment was exactly what was needed, her bottom was sore and bruised for a good number of days afterwards. He said he'll definitely be in touch if he needed me again in the future.
My First "couple" meet   i thought i had posted this, but i guess not. i‘ve been chatting, many times on cam, with the male part of a couple for a while, then then he asked if i wanted to meet. i said yes, but he then said i had to bring a long a pair of panties, i thought ok. He told me to drive to a parking lot close to his home to meet and chat. We met and chatted and then he said to follow him to his home. As he walked in, he turned around and told me to take all of my clothes off, i was a little startled, but i did as he requested. As he was still clothed, he gave my little clit a couple of tugs, told me to put on the panties i had brought along, and to follow him upstairs. It’s somewhat embarrassing to be naked in front of a clothed man and be told to put on a pair of panties! We walked into the bedroom, he told me where to place my clothes, and as i looked up, there was a computer on the desk and a chair. As he removed his clothes, he sat down in front of the computer and told me that he was on cam and I was to start sucking on his cock. At first i did not want to face the cam, but once i started on his cock, i did not mind. It took him a little while to get hard, but he tasted good and my little clit was achingly hard pressing against my panties, and soon his precum was filling my mouth then he shot his load down my throat. His first words were that he did not think i was able to make him cum, which must have made him very happy because he called his wife into the bedroom. Now, i thought we were alone in the house, so i was a little taken back when he had his wife lay on the bed and as a reward for making him cum, he let me eat out his wife! She was freshly shaved a few days ago and her hairs had just begun to grow back. After a little while, he said they had to get going so i got dressed and left. i had hoped there would be more meetings, but they moved away shortly after that.
Training a new submissive, what does that mean Training means something slightly different to every person. The overall ive is to change, modify, or adjust behaviors, attitude, abilities, and desires of the submissive to match that of the dominant. When done in good faith and conscience that means making those changes and adjustments not only with consent of the submissive but also in respect to limits and limitations. Many people have different methods to training and how it is most effective or best accomplished. Here is my opinion and what I intend to do once I find the sub with which to explore that journey with. I think that training, for the most part should be gentle and takes time. Other disagree and think that rough fast training is more effective. In my experience, especially when working with someone that is very new, that can be extremely overwhelming. I think that training should be well thought out, methodical, and subtle, especially at first. Instead of diving into punishments and harsh corrections, gentle reminders and calm but authoritative explanation can be much more effective. I also like to explore other mediums with witch to train a submissive. I very much enjoy exploring erotic hypnosis and showing someone new what kind of things you can do with it. How with very little time you can accomplish much in training a new sub. The key to this sort of exploration is not only consent, but informed consent and full understanding of the process. Someone willing to participate. This is not the sort of thing you can be rough and forceful with. It takes a gentle touch, especially when the goal is long term. Like many I do enjoy the rougher aspects of sexuality, rough sex can be intoxicating under the correct circumstances. That being said, it's not something to rush into head first with someone who has no experience of it. If you work into it slowly, what feels like excruciatingly slow to some, you might be surprised what you can accomplish. Fear can be a powerful motivator for some, but most will push themselves much further if they feel safe and know that they can trust their partner. When I say excruciatingly slow I don't mean in the course of one session. I don't mean over a week or even a couple weeks. When something is worth it you will be willing to put for the time and the effort to take things as slow as necessary. Sometimes this means months or even longer. I'll use anal training as an example. For someone who has never experienced any kind of anal play it can be overwhelming and painful if someone rushes things. If someone goes from no experience at all to full on anal sex in one session it may push them to never wanting to do it again. If you take your time however, start with toys and plugs and gently and slowly build up endurance and size then when the actual anal sex happens it can be an amazing experience on both ends. Like I already said, weeks or months, not necessarily hours or days. When you work together on accomplishing something like that and you ensure that the submissive partner feels safe and cared for then will often times push themselves further than you imagined they could. This is the sort of thing that I'm looking for. This is the kind of dynamic I want to find with a submissive woman, because when you build things up the right way, they last much longer and they mean much more. So where are you young lady? I know you're out there somewhere. I just have yet to find you. When I do, I very much look forward to the training.
  ClaimedMy name, Emiko, which means prosperous, beautiful child, has not helped, not a bit. It’s been a bad year. At 23 years old, I got my own place, moved all my stuff and had finally left my parents’ home. This seemed like a big step towards independence, made less scary as my parents were still close by and I would need them less and less. Several months later there was a horrible crash. My parents ripped away instantly. Still, there was my boyfriend of many years who was soon to be my fiancé. He was there for me, helped me through much of the hardest stuff, supported me when I needed it most. Several months later, instead of proposing as was expected, he dumped me and not your nice dinner, its-not-you, blah, blah. No, he dump me by text. Still there was my dog. I had loved this dog from when I was 5 years old. He was always there to take care of me and watch over me even when the world was scary. Several months later, as he was now living in pain, it was time to let him go too but how could I? He was the last person who cared for me. I had to do right by him and let him go peacefully. Yeah, it’s been a bad year.On this particular Saturday morning, as I lay in bed trying to build enough motivation to get out, the feelings of being disconnected, isolated and alienated, of not belonging, were overwhelming. This is something that had been steadily building through the year but was reaching a fever pitch. Sometimes we get so detached from the world around us there's no way for us to reattach ourself. The only hope is for someone to find you who will grab on and pull you back. All my attachment points seem to have disappeared or broken. I was drifting free. I wanted so much for someone to reach out, pull me back and reattach me to this world.My thoughts went back to a harebrained scheme that had been rattling around my head for some time — just give myself to the first person who would have me. It was a fast, simple solution to a problem I did not know how to solve. You’re gonna think this is crazy mostly because it is crazy but that morning, crazy was all I had. This wasn’t the first time I thought about this idea. In fits of fancy, I had even planned it out. It was based on a story I read called ‘Halloween’. The woman in the story had put herself out there for someone to claim and someone claimed her. I bought a nice leather collar which also fit my thigh, a matching 8 foot leather strap you might call a leash but it was really a lead and, just because I wanted my intensions to be clear, I bought a garter that said, ‘CLAIM ME’ in inch and a half capitol letters. Baker Beach, you know, the one with the beautiful view of the Golden Gate Bridge, has a section where clothing is optional. I’d go there, strip down to just those three items, stand there and wait. My body is nothing special. I don’t have a lot of boob or a lot of anything. I’m a tiny asian woman; shocking in San Francisco. People say everyone loves a tiny asian woman. How could anyone resist a freely available, totally naked, tiny asian woman? Well, they all did.It was getting late into the afternoon and would start getting cold soon. My isolation was now complete. I stood there all day, buck naked, offering myself to anyone who would take me and no one had even stop by to ask. Then a man walked towards me. I saw him earlier when he was heading down the beach. He had looked in my direction for some time, then walked passed like everyone else. Now, as he got closer, he looked right at the garter and just smiled.Deep inside me, I was a bit disappointed. Looking back at that moment, my fast thinking said he was older than I want, not built the way I want, not dressed the way I want, and truthfully, not tall like I want. None of that mattered at this point. I wanted to be wanted. I wanted to be connected. I needed to be claimed. “If you want me to stop at anytime, say kangaroo. If you understand what I’m telling you, say banana.” It seemed like every emotion was passing through me at that moment. Fear and longing where the strongest. Longing won out.“Banana”He opened the lock on the collar, dropping the keys, both of them, in his pocket. I was already shaking a bit. He strapped it around my neck, not too tight, and secured it with the lock. He removed the garter then unwound the lead from my waist and clipped it to the collar. There were no thoughts in my head but a certain calm washed over me. “How long have you been standing here?”“All day”“Did you reapply your sunscreen? You’re starting to look a bit red.”“I didn’t.”“Do you have aloe or something like it.”Without thinking through what was about to happen, I said there’s aloe in my bag. He got the aloe, put some in his hands and started to apply it. My mind was racing. I froze. Something like this was obviously gonna happen if things went to plan but I had never really played the fantasy out this far so this came as a bit of a shock. He started with my legs. He was not shy, taking his time, being thorough but not gratuitously lingering. He went all the way to the top but didn’t explicitly touch my pussy just brushing it to get the whole leg. I realized my pussy was tingly, all of me was, and that I was probably really wet. He did my arms, my face and neck, my back including my hips and ass. He continued to be thorough but not gratuitous and that did not change when he did my front starting at the shoulders, then to the top of my chest then to my tits, my belly and then put his hand above my mons and went right down between my legs. I got a little dizzy. This random man who I’ve known for 7 minutes just locked a collar around my neck, applied lotion to my entire naked body and I was just tingling with delight. He asked me if I was comfortable coming to his place downtown; he’d order a car. I said yes; I said yes? but also mentioned my place was walking distance from here and we could go there. He said great. I told him the address. He handed me my bag and started walking with a solid gr on the lead. I followed not even thinking about the fact that I was being lead down the s
Imagine a wedding chapel and the room is filled with men and women we know. You're wearing a handsome Groom suit or wedding dress Then the doors open and you see me. Im in a see through sissy slutty bride outfit with a veil over my face. You can clearly see my fresh nipples are clamped with tiny bells or weights.     Im wearing a see through skirt with my dick locked up in a chastity cage or a cock ring leash. In my pussy is a white dildo to match my attire as I try to walk down the lane to you.   Once we meet you take off my veil to see my dressed up face.    The pastor asks you if I am taken as your slutty sissy and will torture and pleasure me until you no longer desire me.    The pastor then asks me is I the bride will promise to pleasure my master and be his sissy doll and slut until I am no longer usable and I say I do.   Once its done we exchange rings. You uncage me and put it on my small cock. While I put your ring in my mouth and use my skills to put it on your cock.    The pastor then announces is master and slut. Then says the slut may now suck his masters cock. I then suck it until you pop in my mouth and I swallow it in pleasure.   You then take me by force, remove the dildo from my pussy and fuck my pussy in front of everyone as they watch it pleasure.   You then let out a big one in my pussy for everyone to see and I open my pussy with your special sauce dripping out as everyone takes photos and I suck your cock in pleasure.   During the reception we dance, eat, drink, engage in sensual games, and you even let the other guests have their way with me if they desire.   Then it ends with the 🎂, but its me with whip cream on all my parts. All the men and ladies take out their cocks and spray me with their cream to help me look better as you enjoy seeing me like this.    Then we end with a group photo with me holding up 2 peace ✌️ signs on my hand, covered from top to bottom with the wedding cake cream, and you doing whatever you want to me.   My ideal wedding as a bride. 👰‍♀ 
I went to see my pcp, and it was a successful appointment. He felt bad about everything that I endured since the last time I saw him, Oct 2024. Most of that time I was in and out of hospitals, 1st for clots in my lungs and being able to breath, 2nd time all I wanted was a tetnus shot but ended up over night with a majority amount of tetnus finding I was not experiencing side effaspects of that. Two weeks later I was admitted for pneumonia and flu 1, put on pain meds for who knows what. Badgered for 2 weeks of me telling them No to having my leg amputated without being told why. Still don't know the real reason. Told they were saving my life from what. Don't know just no I spent the month of February 2025 in the hospital with pneumonia, they wouldn't let walk into be showered or use the bathroom. I was put on a foley bag so I could void. And pumped full of pain meds for the month, then March 4th, they removed my right leg to above the knee and sent to a nursing home for rehab for 7 more months. I had trust issues before now they are even worse.  I had a hellish ride in a wheelchair accessible van not because of the driver nope it was the roads fault. Actually would have been comical if I hadn't literaly slid partially out of my wheelchair my caregiver had the driver pull over and my caregiver adjusted me to make the rest of the ride home. It was my first trip out so yea I was a tad bit nervous, my caregiver did her best to make sure I got there and back in one piece. The only time she left the room was when the dr and I were doing the paperwork for down the line. That is now on the fridge in an envelope and I have my advanced directives papers to fill out and send copies to my dr and the health dept. I don't plan to die anytime soon, but I am preparing ahead of time so no one has any problems as it is my decision. I like structure and control and since I haven't been able to have that in my daily life I took the point and got it done. I do still plan meeting someone this spring maybe more than one. And working towards a D/s relationship I think I deserve that.  So when you come to meet me, I will be in my wheelchair. The leg hasn't grown back, hey I was hoping but nope still gone.  I have a wicked twisted sense of humor, but with all I been through I needed it. I have an issue with people who stare, I haven't made a scene but I do have googly eyes and a mouth and tongue for stump. I didn't use it at the drs office but there is always next time.
It is good to see this feature has returned. I had been told that it may or may not but there was no plans when I had asked so I am pleased that the decision was made to bring it back. Being able to use the journal and share one's thoughts can save a lot of time. You get to a point where you decide to write a single email then copy and paste to the ones you are interested in speaking with. It seems to me that many women on here, still looking, get overwhelmed with response and often times an introduction may go unread from being overlooked. With the journal you get to share more and someone can establish a sense of you before opening communication. This leads me to something that has bothered me about a stance some take in the online community. This idea that you are not real if you do not post photos of yourself or what you do. Not to say I would be unwilling to send photos once I spoke with someone and believed them to be serious. I would gladly share with someone I feel is serious about moving forward. However, the idea that I should share a bunch of photos with disregard to the safety of those involved simply to prove I am real is, in my opinion, absurd. In order for me to post photos I would have to scrutinize each photo to ensure nothing is revealed that could identify me or those who do or have served me. I do not have the time to do this and lets face it, I would rather live in the moment doing than relive what I did. To me, the person who has all the photos and videos is living in the past instead of the now. Besides, even though this is not a completely public site, I have come across scammers, so the less I put out that is readily accesible the better for me and those who rely on me. If you wish to know me and see what I do, then contact me. For now, I will add more entries as topics come to mind that I want to share my thoughts on. In this way, the community may get to know me and those who are seeking someone like me may find me. I look forward to sharing more in time.
Since I have been away for a while, have a writing entry!   There is just something about women’s eyes. The way that you can look down into them and see the arousal. You watch, never losing eye contact, your breath mingling with one another. You watch her eyes squint and then light up when your skin touches hers, the space between your bodies getting smaller. The way the hue hazes over with eagerness and need. The underlining knowledge that she craves it, the roughness, the love, the caring about her, just someone being obsessed with her, even if for those next moments spent together. The furrow in between her pretty eyes when she’s trying to concentrate on listening, the deeper furrow when she’s angry for not being allowed a release, the begging and pleading in the corners of such a beautiful color. A tornado of frustration in the depths of the pupil that send fire to her iris when she’s pinned against the surface below her, the teasing ensues. Her words match the storm you’re staring into, wanting all of the earth shattering pleasure those pretty eyes are about to give you. As her pretty mouth fixes for another vulgar attitude, you see the fireworks on the brim of exploding behind that tornado, her head falling back, eyes squeezed tight, urging the leg shivering to take over her body. Your fingers dance along her body, your mouth cascades her skin as those pretty eyes of hers start to well with the happiest of tears. Picking her head up, you let the sea of waves in her happiness wash over you, never losing eye contact as you use your tongue to clean your mess of a woman with such beautiful eyes.
January 25, 2022 - My Leatherboy wants fucked.   It's been a while since I have written a story. Because of asthma and lung problems, I'll be honest, I hid out for quite some time during the beginning of the pandemic.   After I received my first two shots I became a little more active, and after the booster shot, things are starting to return to normal.  But we won't talk about the pandemic, because I always try to stay away from conversations on religion, politics, and now... The pandemic.   This story is about my leather boy who came for a visit.  He visited before but I didn't write the story.   In fact, if I'm not mistaken, on his second visit I took his virginity. This is his third visit.   We didn't waste much time after we got inside the house, he stripped naked almost immediately. I know how much he loves leather, the smell, the texture, even the taste as he licks my leather. So before heading upstairs to the bedroom, I grabbed my leather jock, which is actually a codpiece.   Once we got upstairs to the bedroom, I stripped down and handed him the codpiece and told him to put it on me. It is entirely made of leather, and the front of the codpiece is a flat piece of leather with a hole in it large enough to pop my cock and balls through. Then there is a leather waistband that snaps in the back. And finally an "up the ass crack" piece of leather that loops over the waistband.     He snapped all the leather pieces together around my waist with the bright silver snaps. Then looped the piece going up my ass crack over the waistband and snapped it in place also.   I turned around and handed him the pouch that snaps into place over my cock and balls. He snapped the bottom snap in place below my balls at my taint. Then after slightly and gently fondling the smooth soft leather, he gently pushed the pouch over my cock and balls and attach the two side snaps, one on each side of the base of my cock. My cock and balls are now almost completely hidden by the Leather pouch.   As he started to snap the first of the three across the top, the cock of my head was peeking out a little bit.  I stopped him, and unsnapped the two side snaps he had just completed.  My growing cock spring free, and I told him, "Why don't you suck on Daddy's cock for just a moment before you close it up."   He anxiously took my cock in his mouth and started to work on it. It felt wonderful, warm and wet. His tongue darting around my cock as it grew stiffer and stiffer. I knew he was enjoying the smell of the codpiece as well as the taste of my cock. I wouldn't be surprised if I was already starting to precum a bit at this point.   I let him suck my cock and lick my balls for a while and then told him to close it up. He reattached the two side snaps, stuffed my hard cock in the pouch as best he could, and then attached the three snaps across the top.   I told him to get in bed face down. He quickly complied of course. I grabbed a long soft rope from the table and walked back to the bed. I took his right wrist in my hand and put it behind his back. I think it surprised him a bit. I was a little bit aggressive at this point, maybe that's what surprised him.  Then I grabbed his left wrist and put it behind his back on top of his right wrist.   I started wrapping the soft rope around his wrists using a special technique that I had learned at CLAW quite a few years ago that keeps the rope from tightening around the wrist and cutting off blood flow. Eventually his hands were tightly secured behind his back.   I lubed up a couple fingers and started playing with his ass. I felt his hips push back against my fingers as they penetrated his tight hole. Deeper and deeper I pushed until I found his prostate. I started massaging his prostate which caused him to moan. I continued adding more lube and more fingers until he was nice and loosened up and relaxed.   I have a small dressing mirror on the wall that is positioned in the exact place so that if a boy looks to the right, he can see the reflection of his own ass as I work on it. I noticed that my leather boy kept turning his head to the right, I'm not sure if he was watching the scenario unfold in the mirror or just changing his head position.   I walked over to the table and got a very small string of anal beads. There are only four beads and are probably only 3/4 inch in diameter.  I wanted to leave something in his ass as I was planning my next move.   I pushed the first bead against his tight hole, and kept pushing until it popped inside his ass. As I started to push the second bead into him I felt him push his hips back to give me full access. He was enjoying the feeling as the second bead popped into him. I started to push the third bead up his ass but at the last moment decided to pull and tug so he could feel the second bead pop out. That only meant I had another opportunity to push that bead back in place where it belonged. Soon the third bead joined the first two in his warm lubed hole.  I pulled all three beads out just so I could start over again.   Occasionally his arms would move or jerk around as I would pop the beads in and out of his hole. This was accompanied by many soft moans slipping out of his lips.   After a bit of play all four beads were snuggly up his ass. With only the final Loop showing which would allow me to pull them out when I was done with my next task.   Although his hands were tied behind his back I told him to scoot down on the bed a bit. When he did, I climbed in near the top of the bed with my legs on each side of him, my cock near his face. I reached down and unsnapped the codpiece pulling it completely off. I laid it next to me on the bed because I knew I would be using it again soon, but for a different purpose.   Because his hands were tied behind his back, it was slightly difficult for him to lift his head to take my cock. So I grabbed his head on each side with my hands, lifted him up a little bit, and slid my body down a little closer.     He instinctively knew to open his mouth for my cock which was now in front of his face. I lowered his mouth onto my cock. Once again it felt wonderful. The muscles in his stomach were working overtime to allow him to bob up and down on my cock. And hopefully he could still feel the beads that were penetrating his ass. I know it was only a matter of time until those muscles started to wear out.    A few times I would pull him off my cock and push him onto my balls and let him lick and play with my balls with his tongue. Sometimes arching my back so he could look that area between my ass and my balls. It's one of my trigger spots, it really gets me going. I think I'm going to have to teach him to rim my nice clean ass sometime in the near future.   Occasionally using my hands on the size of his head I would force him deeper on to my cock, or if I felt he needed a breath of air, I would pull him off my cock so only the head of my cock was left in his mouth.  As I expected, after about 10 minutes of this position his stomach muscles were giving out.     He could no longer pull himself off my cock.  With no muscles to pull him off, his face fell forward, my cock finding its way to the
Sexual ownership and use is a crucial part of what I look for and what I need. I know some look down on that, but I have my reasons. I am searching and seeking and hoping to find something I had a long time ago, a complete sense of ownership and sexual use with no say in how or when or why I was used. It was very, very sexual and I was completely at the whim of a stronger person who could take or do anything to me at any time. They did not take certain liberties, but they could have and they made sure I was very well aware of their power over me. Because that experience was the very thing that unlocked the door of servitude for me, sexuality and sex is a very crucial part  of what I need. I am not talking about my own gratification. If someone so chose, they could provide that, but that would totally be up to them. I am talking about their use of me...however THEY choose...to make THEM happy. When they are done, they can put me back in the closet, in a cage or where ever they choose. Female or male, black, white, hispanic, oriental...matters not to me as much as the opportunity to be used as an outlet for their sexual frustrations, pleasure, whatever they choose. Ask me about the experience and I will tell all about it. When I am contacted by a straight male dom, I'm never quite sure if I'm what they're looking for and often I am not. More often than not they're looking for "worker slaves" and while I am open to that and no stranger to working hard, it would not fulfill me as a slave to simply have that ect explored. Sound odd? It probably does....but my early, early experience left its mark on me forever.
Things I require - because I'm human 1. Be dependable- this means to come if you say you are coming... this means to contact me if you are late... this means to let me know if you can’t come. This is important whether dominant or submissive. It is common courtesy. 2. Be honest. If you can’t make it, tell me. If you don’t want to, say you don’t. If you aren't honest in everyday things, how can I trust you enough to be with you in a relationship dynamic? 3. Communicate - I’m not needy or clingy. But a little “hey how’s your day” every now and then, or just some time to talk when you aren't red hot horny, will go a long way. How else do you get to know each other well enough to do the things we do? 4. Be public. I don’t care if you are shy. I don’t care if you are private. (in regards to going to a public event) Refusing to be seen SOMEwhere with me is a red flag.  5. Be willing to do some vanilla things. Get together for dinner. Go to a movie. Stay in for a movie. Take a walk in the park, with no promise of anything kink related or sexual. It doesn't have to cost you anything but time. There has to be a connection other than lifestyle. 6. Have SOMETHING in common with me outside of fetishes. Like the same documentaries. Enjoy the same music. Have something to talk about in our down time, because we can’t always be up. 7. Listen to me. Hear what I say. If I say it, believe it. 8. Stay in contact, and reply in a timely manner. It is a waste of time and effort if you are only going to reply once ever other week or three. Life is too short to leaving people hanging.9. Don't just ghost people. If you lose interest, or are are not interested in a first message, just say so. I will not be angry, and I will trouble you no more.   10. Expect all these things from me. Because these things are not Dominant things... nor submissive things... These are HUMAN BEING things.
  Could you go back to vanilla dating?'Ive decided that I cannot willingly be in a vanilla relationship ever again. There is gonna be some kink, poly, and/or freakiness in My life from now on. I cannot tell you HOW MANY people that I have met that are miserable in their vanilla relationships and sneak out for kink. I have played the kinky therapist for those that are devastated with the thought that they have kinky desires and its "just WRONG." I end up patting them on the shoulders and then paddling their asses every time. Ive seen someone monthly for 5 years that is just now coming to grips with the fact that he likes to be spanked. Wouldnt DARE bring it up at home, but he has to have an outlet somehow.I get it that some people discover their kink AFTER already being in a vanilla relationship, but WHY would someone enter back into a vanilla relationship after knowing what their desires are and try to suppress them? A dear friend mentioned how his inner "naughty girl" sat dormant while life passed him by until he decided to be true to himself. And true he is! yes, it was a gamble getting up the nerve to tell his wife of many years, but in the end... she stayed and they live happily ever after. Im quite certain that 75% of the time it doesnt end that way.Now that I have grown in My kinklife and reaffirmed My dominance, I know a bit more about what I want and expect in a partner, kinklife, and SEXlife and I am not afraid to stand up for what I want and need. Now I have met a decent vanilla guy or three that has captured My interest- or that falls head over heels in love with Me- (yes, that happens to me!) and I am always upfront about My lifestyle and desires and the deal breakers. Some of My 'nilla friends say that I tell them to run them off, but realistically, I am just being honest with Myself and saving them from trying to tell Me that 'its just a phase' and making attempts at changing Me.I've been on a dating site or two and found myself on dates asking "what am i doing having dinner with this biblethumpin' overly righteous, straightlaced man?" and quickly following that thought up with asking him how he feels about doing house work naked and being hogtied and gagged on occasion. (hmm..
As an enticement Here are two decsriptions that I is did actually did perform and enjoy. That are not requirements, but a reflection of creativity and strength and fun. Perhaps these may motivate your interest   Tale 1 Years ago I was working professionally as a Dominant. My clientele typically were well off, all female, and seeking release from their careers. One in particular was seeking to be very much brought down in a submissive manner so that she could see herself and decide if that submission needed to be part of her life. One weekend, and yes, it was a stormy winter night, I went to her palatial home as arranged. The mood was to be very dark and I was to be dominant and very unyielding. She had only one way out of any situation, that was to ring a bell tied around her hand. That said, she was prepared for depths of dominance...... upon arrival, she was awaiting as instructed. Leather slave harness, well heeled thigh boots and kneeling in the entry way. I asked her if she was prepared and ready... she said yes. I placed my bag down, ball gagged her from behind, and clamped her nipples. She had a fine body and was already aroused. I place a posture collar on her and leashed her and made her follow me to her special room. Over the course of our encounters she had setup her own dungeon in her own place. There I stood her facing me and bound her limbs to the cross tightly. I then roped her to the cross at various points of her body so that her weight could be taken. For the next 2 hrs about, if flogged her, vibed her, made her orgasam at my will, and did what I wanted with her until she collapsed in her bondage. She knew this was the goal. After 2 hrs She was exhausted and emotional.... still though, she was defiant in verbiage to me as I worked with, but I always at all times called her how on her defiance and punished her for it. Seeking to drive her to submission forcibly was the mutual desired goal. In the end she did yield, where upon I released her and made her kneel properly holding by her hair roughly to the position. I removed the gag, and place a tight pvc hood upon her and regagged her with an in mouth penis gag. I then took her to a floor stock where she was bound and restricted at the arms, body, neck. I then plugged her ass with a plug and then placed a lubed fucking machine dildo in her and switched it on..... I told her she had to endure 2 hrs of forced fucking by an unyielding mechanical device or until she admitted she was a worthless cunt that was good only for fucking. This was a trigger phrase for her that she knew if she said it would allow her to descend mentally to the state she wanted to discover...... I sat in a chair and enjoyed controlling the unrelenting machine using her...... Interesting enough she lasted only one hour where upon sweating, and having orgasamed 5 times she begged for mercy and said her phrase and rang the bell in a believable manner. I release her and sat back in the chair an watched. She crawled to me..... rubbing her face against my boots, but pointed to her gag to be removed..... I did, and she at her own initiative said she was now truly a fucktoy, and cumslut slave craving only the release in submission she so desperately wanted..... I permitted her to orally pleasure me to seal the deal in her mind.
An important message follows this little plea for help, so, read on after this paragraph.  My old iMac has been opened and the hard drive taken out and tested.  The current tech can not download the data from it.  I understand there are others that might be able to.  My plea is help in finding some one.  Do you know of anyone or service accomplished in such a data rescue?     I have tried to inform prospective slave property what life as My chattel could be like.  I have put time and effort into describing what an accomplished slave might experience using examples to help make clear My desires.  The reader might do well to appreciate the fact that I am not trying to 'groom' anyone with false images of what might be.   However, as I read all I have written I fear I have misinformed about My expectations.  A read of all contained here in might well lead a prospective slave to discouragement with the thought it could not ever become what I portray.  I do not want any prospect to be discouraged with the thoughts of failure.  I do not expect anything like an accomplished slave property to start with.  Instead, I look for a slave type with a desire to become totally emotionally attached with Me and desirous of pleasing an Owner as a slave.  Nothing more.     In fact, many slaves will never become all I might desire.  That does not mean I would not want to own it.  Actually, I enjoy the process of training even if the results may not be all I might hope for.  The effort and dedication of a slave to that process is a treasure to me, not necessarily the results.   Here is an example of what I am trying to express: I have preferences with regard to the physical attributes of My slave property.  Although I am prepared to work with time and effort to make changes in the slave to make the property more desirable to Me, some changes are impossible.  An example might be the length of a slave tongue.  I want a long tongue to come from the mouth of a slave for certain services.  Very few slaves are so endowed.  There is little that can be done to lengthen a tongue, although the effort to do so can be rewarding, at least to me.  Does that mean I will not take to property a slave with a deficient tongue? No, certainly not.   The same is true of a slave that can not emotionally or mentally quite measure up to some of the wilder desires I have.  Does that mean I will not take to property slave with a deficient mental attitude?  No certainly not.  As with the tongue example, the effort of the slave property to gain a more pleasing, to me at least, mental attitude is rewarding and a treasure to me.     So, the slave prospect that is reading this should take heart and not become discouraged at the prospective future.  Rather, it should try to live in the current moment, allow the feelings that are natural to it to manifest inside it's head and heart allow the subspace it so dearly needs to flow through it and enjoy that feeling as it reads.    
The Yearning for Grounding: Finding Purpose in a Dominant Dynamic.. We all possess hidden desires, yearnings that often simmer beneath the surface of our carefully constructed personas. One such yearning, perhaps more common than we readily admit, is the desire to be truly seen, and subsequently, guided, challenged, and even, in a sense, controlled. This isn't necessarily about literal ownership, but rather a deep craving for structure, direction, and the secure boundaries offered by a strong, assertive presence.The idea of being objectified, used for amusement, might sound unsettling at first glance. But on deeper reflection, it can be interpreted as a desire to be a source of light and joy for someone else. To be valued, appreciated, even celebrated for what you bring to their life, even if that role is perceived as subservient. This isn't about self-degradation, but rather about finding fulfillment in serving a purpose, in bringing happiness to another.The reality of a superior mentor, a "Guiding Lady" as it were, nurturing and shaping your path, speaks to a fundamental human need for guidance and direction. In a world often characterized by ambiguity and overwhelming choices, the prospect of surrendering to a trusted individual who can provide clarity and purpose can be incredibly appealing. It's a desire to be molded, refined, and ultimately, helped to reach one's full potential. Finding such a person provides a safe haven, a space where vulnerability is not a weakness, but an opportunity for growth.The cornerstone of any such dynamic is trust. It's not merely about submission, but about placing your faith in someone who will act in your best interest, even if that means pushing you beyond your comfort zone. The hope lies in finding a true, committed partner who understands the nuances of this dynamic and can navigate it with integrity and respect. This requires open communication, clear boundaries, and a shared understanding of expectations and limitations.Ultimately, the yearning for a dominant guiding force speaks to a deeper desire for purpose and commitment. It's a search for meaning, for a role that feels authentic and fulfilling. It's about finding someone who can not only appreciate your offerings, but also help you to become the best version of yourself. This journey may involve vulnerability, introspection, and a willingness to surrender control, but the potential reward is a profound sense of belonging, purpose, and unwavering connection. The key lies in finding that "true trusted superior person" who can provide not just direction, but also unwavering support and unwavering faith in your potential.
This was writen by one of my slaves, so I though I would post it here. Almost everyone wants something for nothing. Bargains Attract. Finding a good value excites almost everyone, so much so that we rush to share the news. Wanting anything for free is perhaps human nature. However, many of us have had to learn the hard way, again and again, that you get what you pay for. But cheap dishes, you’ll be replacing them sooner rather than later. You reap what you sow, this is also true of human interaction as well, and most people sadly, cannot put the two concepts together and compare them. Why do we think that people should respect us before we respect them? Why do we crave privacy and yet are often quick to invade someone else’s? Why do we think that others will be there for us, even if we aren’t available for them? Being part of the group, a house, friends, family, means being the same in return. It’s not an easy thing to do, in fact it’s rather time consuming.  Although the rewards are indisputable, we still find people who tend to hesitate, and wait, letting other people make the first move. First to commit, first to open their arms, first to open their house, first to be honest, first to be forthright, first to take action, speak their mind, and offer homage, first to everything.  Getting the other people to commit first, reduces our own effort, perhaps making it easier, but even with that said you will still receive according to what you give. He who gives little, receives little. He who risks nothing, gains nothing. Being able to see, comprehend, grock and utilize this principle simplifies our lives, not complicates it as so many would have us believe. Once we Master this principle of living, I believe we never forget it. Loving you has made me want to become a better person, I know I don’t often show it, But I do appreciate everything you do, most of all I appreciate the learning lessons. Thank you so much for having the patience to put up with me.
Remote Controlled - Part 1This is a fiction story based on a real event The year was almost over once again and Sally had no one to gift her bound and helpless form to. Another year had passed and every dominant man she had met was a no-hoper. Scrolling on her phone she looked mournfully at the parade of bound subs that filled social media. Tapping over to her dating profile she sighed. It took a lot of patience to filter through the inbox. Determined to keep trying she browsed the various messages she had received. It was the usual stuff - men with empty profiles saying 'hey'. Disappointed she pushed on through message after message until she saw one with a photo attached. Steeling her courage, Sally tapped the message desperately hoping it wasn't yet another unsolicited dick pic.To her surprise it wasn't. It was a picture of an app that she recognised. She used the app herself for one of her toys. As she took in the picture she realised that her username was displayed. 'Random Control' was a feature of her app controlled toys. A butt plug and vibrator she owned could be worn and then controlled by a random user of the app. Sure enough, this picture was coming from someone who she had chatted with as he controlled her toys! For a moment panic made her blood run cold. Was it creepy that he'd tracked her down on a dating site? What other profiles of hers did he know about? Semi-paralysed by this surprise it took her some time before she read the message to which the picture was attached. 'Control doesn't have to be random. All you have to do is ask.' Sally froze. This was out of the ordinary. How is someone meant to answer this? She gulped, but found herself unable to tap away from the message. She had to know more. Quickly she tapped through and read this man's profile. Thepicture wasn't amazing, but there was a very well written description of what this man was looking for. With every line Sally found herself drawn in further and faster. On the screen at least this man seemed like everything she was looking for. At least, right up until he used a single word - pantyhose. Sally's growing smile dropped. He was likely American. No Brit would use that word. Sure enough, on checking there it was - Bridgeport, Connecticut. Still, he deserved a reply. It was the most interesting message she'd received in weeks. 'I remember our chat. It was mindblowing. I'm sorry to say I'm not looking for an online relationship. - Sally' Dispondant, Sally closed the site and settled down for a lonely night. Streaming the latest reality show nonsense, her brain numbed and the familiar rut closed in. Moments later her phone buzzed. 'What is it about online that worries you? - Jonathan' 'Consequences, there can't be any when its all online. I can say I've done something but you have no way of knowing if thats the truth. Its just not as fun for me. - S' 'I understand. Are you up for another fun chat then?' Sally smiled. An online D/s relationship didn't get her motor running, but the thought of someone else teasing her with her toys really did. She quickly messaged back before hurrying to her toy chest. A touch of lube later and her plug and vibe were in. A few quick taps and she had the app open and connected to the man on the other end. His voice wasn't terribly deep. In fact he spoke very softly and gently. Almost careful with every word he chose to use. 'I really did love the message Jon.' 'It's Jonathan, not Jon.' He hadn't raised his voice at all to say this, instead he chose to set her toys to vibrate at their maximum settings. Sally breathed deeply as the toys caused her to let out a low moan. 'S..sorry Jonathan.' 'That's okay. Now you know.' The vibrations stopped as he lowered the control on his app. Then a second later, there was a barely perceptable rumble from her plug combined with a slow rhythmic buzz from her vibe. Sally gulped, he was good. 'You know Sally, there are other toys like this. Other ways a long distance dynamic can work.' But Sally bared heard, he was clearly skilled at controlling these types of vibrating toys. He was varying not just the intensity but the frequency and the patterns of her toys. 'Or maybe, even this type of play isn't something you enjoy as much as it sounds like?' The vibration stopped from both of Sally's toys. Snapping back to reality her hips were wriggling around, desperate for the good feelings from the toys. 'Please, don't stop now!' 'Well then Sally, answer me. Did you know that there are a lot of different long distance toys like this?' 'I'm sure there are. I don't think it would help though. Even in person, I can be bratty. I find ways to make it seem like I've done what was asked of me.' The vibrations began again, but this time at a very low level. Sally's hips writhed against the air, desperate to make the most of the sensations from the toys. She gripped her breats, teasing her nipples. 'What if I had a plan? A way of addressing some of your weaknesses? Would you be willing to at least hear me out?' 'I...I suppose...I could keep an...oh...oh.' Sally struggled for words as he played with her toy's controls masterfully. 'An open mind?' 'Oh god! Ye...ye...yes, and open mind.' 'I'm glad to hear it. Now, when you are close, do be a good little slut and ask me for permission to cum.' Sally's entire body began to quake as both the plug and the vibe filled her with sensations that felt amazing. Closing her eyes, she flipped to her front and ground her hips into her bed, trying to get more from the sensations of the vibe filling her. A few moments later, she was begging the male voice she knew as Jonathan for the permission to cum. He managed to play the controls so well that he kept her right on the edge of an orgasm for another two minutes. To Sally it felt like twenty, but before too long he said in a gentle voice: 'Cum for me Sally.'
This is a topic which I have had more than a few conversations with other Masters and slaves. So I have decided to post what I believe here and what my house believes. I know this is going to rub some of the Masters/Doms or Masters/doms the wrong way. But we here at the House Of G believe in telling the truth, regardless of the cost to ourselves. Having said this let me launch right into the topic of my posting. "Collar of consideration or under consideration collars" 1.     The first thing that comes to mind is that the Master who has placed a slave under consideration is having trouble deciding whether he wants this slave to be wearing his collar and is unable to decided if the slave should be a member of their house. 2.     The next possibility is that the Master wants to have his cake and eat it too. He wants the pleasure of controlling and using the slave, without making a commitment to the slave, thereby avoiding the responsibility of ownership. Both are fundamentally wrong. Either the slave is worthy or has the potential to be worthy of wearing the Masters collar or is not. If more time and communication is required, then the Master should do that. The undertaking of owning a slave requires that you know everything about that slave before placing your collar around their neck. If there is even the slightest of doubt or concern, then discuss your concerns with the slave. Collaring a slave is not something taken lightly. It is actually making a commitment that we and many others will agree is more serious than the wedding vows and in some cases more binding and lasting.   “The trust between Masters and Slaves is based on the same behavioral Rules that regulate social life within a herd: Those who have obtained a higher rank in the herd assume at the               same time the responsibility for the weaker members.” A Master should reveal to the slave what is expected of them if they wear the Masters collar and what their boundaries and duties will be. All of this should be discussed in great detail almost to ad nauseam. For many in this lifestyle it’s far easier to shed ones clothing and belongings than it is to open up and be revealing about your real desires. We call this being emotionally naked and it seems to be one of the hardest things that one of my slaves can learn. “I have accepted a collar.” 1. This is not dating in any vanilla sense. You may find a slave and initiate a conversation with them with the sole intention of putting the slave in your collar. Nothing is wrong with this. However, why would you, give the slave the initial upper hand in the relationship (before it even starts) with having the slave make the decision to either accept or reject your collar? By offering your collar to the slave and not waiting until the slave asks for it, has not the “Topping from the Bottom” already begun?   2. It is the Master who will structure, dictate, and control the parameters of the relationship not the slave. Hence it is the Master, not the slave, who will really do the bulk of the work in making the relationship successful or not. 3. The slave has a simple, yet complex duty ... please the desires and will of the Master. The slave does what it is told, how it is told, when it is told, without hesitation, remorse or embarrassment.  4. In reality, it is the slave who should offer themselves to the Master for enslavement and collaring. NOT the other way around. You're not seeking the slave to "take home to your mother." You're not seeking them to place an engagement ring on their finger. While that may happen at some point, it is not the primary goal. The goal is to help the slave become the best slave it can be and to guide them to that end.  5. You want that slave, kneeling, naked at your feet, ready and willing to serve you with every fiber of their being to satisfy and please your desires.  I have never offered a collar to a slave. I was blessed to have a lifestyle couple with many years of experience act as my mentors when I first entered this lifestyle, and along the way I have had the opportunity to work with and meet some great Masters, who have all pitched in and helped with my education and mindset. But the main thing I have learned is the differences between the structure of a vanilla relationship and the structure of the Master/slave relationship. The commitment of a slave is on a whole different level than that of a vanilla relationship. And because the slave made it of their own free will and with the knowledge that they were surrendering all of themselves to the Master.  This bond between Master and slave is unlike any other currently known. Think about it, the Master offers a collar to the slave. The slave accepts it. Then later if the relationship or some aspect doesn't go as the slave desires, you've already given them a way out. But if they have to offer themselves to the Master, what they are saying is that they are ready to give the Master their all and that means 100% of themselves.  So let me end this by saying that the slave’s submission is not a gift. There submission is who they are and what they are. And if it is a “gift”, then the slave has certain expectations already that again reverts back to vanilla dating, that their charms (subtly translated sexuality) is something to be held in high esteem and treated as such. Yes, you can love and care for them. But their sexuality is yours and for your pleasure first. If at any point they feel that their "gift" is not that treasured by the Master, you again have given them an easy exit or even much worse a means of "topping from the bottom."   
Being a Dominant is not like the military where rank assumes obedience. The “rank” of Dominant or Master is not assumed by the Dominant but bestowed by a submissive. This is important because it cuts to the heart of why a Dominant has the authority to give “orders” in the first place. A Dom only has power because he has been granted that power by the submissive. And a submissive grants that power to someone he respects, trusts, desires, and believes has his best interests at heart. He grants it to someone with whom he feels completely safe and protected. So yes, I as a Dominant do in fact give orders. But my orders are not simply motivated by desire for blind obedience but are often targeted at a higher purpose. Sure, often they are for my personal pleasure. But they are also designed to instill knowledge, establish norms of behavior, set expectations for performance, and above all, challenge my sub to be the best person he can possibly be both in and outside our relationship. They are also designed to similarly challenge me. I always strive to be a better person, a better partner, a better Dominant, and have our mutual interests always at heart. Being a Dominant is less about assuming authority than being a leader. A leader earns the right to lead. My sub gives me all the power I have as a Dominant. What I do with that power is up to me. But if I use it unwisely or selfishly, it will evaporate and my sub will opt to vote with his feet. D/s is, after all, a consensual agreement between two free persons and thus can be terminated when one or the other is not satisfied. D/s and even M/s are not true slavery, even when we choose to call it that. Ultimately, the submissive decides who will be his leader or if he will take on a leader at all. It is that decision that empowers the Dominant, and that decision is earned, not taken.
Continuing our profile… We are an intelligent, attractive andrather atypical couple who are younger than our years and tend to stand out and get noticed (in alluring ways). He is an experienced top with a naturally dominant and assertive personality who has a rich variety of experience ranging from mild sexualbondage to harder-core BDSM and always enjoys tying up both squirmy rope bunnies and distressed damsels for fun or more fiendish things. She is a bottom and aspiring switch who, despite a somewhat dominant and assertive personality, enjoys being bound and sexually (ab)used.WE ARE NOT what you would expect of an older couple either in looks, lifestyle or outlook. Our sex life has never been vanilla and BDSM has always been an occasional part of that but we are not thestereotypical D/s couple. We also aren't wildly promiscuous, we don't view any of this as a lifestyle and we don't feel the need to live up to real or imaginary lifestyle stereotypes. Our interests tend to be more interested in things along the lines of ‘forced’ bondage and sexual fantasies with some S&M overtones rather than the more mainstream D/s dynamic (e.g. expectations of servitude or passive submissive roles). We’re seeking social connections with others who share some of our interests and desires but we realize that quality, compatibility and timing can be rather elusive. Given the right mutual chemistry and connection we’d be open to other things but we’re not interested in quick or indiscriminate hookups so our focus is on socializing, either publicly or privately, without other expectations. Although we are mainly interested in connecting with other couples, we’d be open to women (either curious or experienced) who piqued our interest.A proverbial female rope bunny, either single or part of a couple, who craves being the subject of creative rope bondage encounters would be an interesting find as well. In general, we tend to be most compatible with those who aren’t defined by the expectations of others (especially in the BDSM realm) and have a healthy view of their sexuality and sexual interests. Other desirable qualities include: the ability to hold an intelligent conversation, reasonably height/weight proportionate, in decent shape, non-smoker and NOT a heavy drinker or drug user. Although age is fairly open and not a significant concern to us, couples in their 50s or 60s are probably a better fit. Especially those whose looks and lifestyle belie their years. But regardless, there are expectations of somewhat unique character, maturity, quality and social fit. Obviously there should be an interest in BDSM and the willingness to socially connect without anyexpectations. Experience is always a plus but a strong interest, desire or curiosity are far more important.We are not overbearing or pushy and would likely be a couple that others, regardless of experience or nervousness, would be comfortable meeting socially. Respect and discretion expected and always assured.  
Getting the most from messagingThis site isn't like social media. Nor is it like whatsapp. It's something different. I noticed this when I had my pervious profile and want to make a couple of things clear. For me, you'll get the best results from a long form message. Something more like email or a letter. Its a bit like Tinder or Grinder. You get the best results when you have something more to say than 'hello'. If you're interested, say that. If you're looking for something long term say that too. Most of us get deluged with messages from all sides that are simply a single line of text. I delete those unread.Why?Simple: because no relationship or true D/s dynamic is going to develop from a string of one line messages. The D/s dynamic requires high levels of trust and openness. Such trust and openness cannot develop from single lines. At some point more information needs to be givem.But what if I am better at talking than writing? Well that's an easy one - speech to text apps exist. They're accurate and easy to use. Seriously, I once had a correspondent who tried this on my suggestion and it was the best conversation I'd had on my old profile up to that point. He thanked me afterwards because he was getting more replies.I don't have time for long messages. This will sound harsh, but you don't then have time for BDSM or a D/s dynamic either. For dominants, the level of attention a submissive needs is usually quite high at first. Sure they'll eventually require less attention to maximise the relationship from, but early on you'll need to invest time. As I said earlier, trust doesn't form from nowhere. If I'm going to let you tie me up and spank me, if I'm going to willingly place myself in a position so vulnerable I need to trust you.Of coruse, all of what I say here are observations of mine. Not every sub will feel the same, nor will every Dom(me). This is just my two penny worth. I do seriously recommend to everyone though, a longer message is better than a short one. In a sea of one-line messages it makes you stand out too!For me who works shift patterns sometimes I can only get to checking the site once a day, but when I do I'll respond to the most interesting messages, or the people with whom a connection has developed first. Tara xox
Minoan culture celebrated the potential of the woman, and their schools were designed to identify, encourage and refine that potential. Most of the girls who went into one of the training schools came from either trading, such as via markets or auctions, or from nominations by families wishing to see their daughters learn what were considered highly desirable and profitable skills. Families paid hefty fees if their daughter was accepted by a school as at the completion of training the girl would almost always return home. This is why at each induction of girls, nominated girls were much outnumbered by those who came through trade. It is a mistake to believe that Minoan training schools were in competition with other as there is telling evidence that they acted more as a collective, each specialising in certain areas that other schools either only touched lightly upon or avoided altogether. However, each school did possess their own unique means of attaining girls, be it through deals with ship owners who plied between specific regions, or army leaders who could give access to spoils of conflict, and even those who ran work houses, orphanages or debt collections. Sources were many and varied, and every school had their own means of attaining stock. Thus, there are frescoes and murals depicting what can be mistaked for typical slave auctions or the like. More likely, these were gatherings of representatives from each school, all looking for the best candidates for their yearly inductions. Think of it as a modern day draft between teams looking to fill certain roles and discover certain talents. Many qualities, from physical appearance to spoken languages, from prior education and learned skills to physical and mental health. The two roles within a given school were roughly equivalent to workers such as cooks, cleaners etc through to the students themselves.  The name given to a student is roughly equivalent to candidate.   Questions?
Christmas '23, and what is it like ? I've mostly healed up. Added 4 yards of topsoil in front of my recently aquired home in Lacey. Planted a lot of bulbs. Mix of native wildflowers. And blueberries, raspberries, strawberries and grapes. My compost heap is better than yours, professionally managed by the songbirds lured there by the cleverly placed feeder. Cleared the path from the back gate to the bike trail. Blackberries are tough in this area, so that is a project to finish later, when I hope to add some cedar trees back there, and a lot of wildflowers. But it's mostly blackberry, now, and vines don't vanish when you cut them, that's just the start of the job. It's good to have a hobby. The neighbors have signed off on the new mailbox thing I want to make. Half whisky barrels, 2x2 cedar arbor, Wisteria or grapevines, undergrass irrigation, and a pair of big mailboxes.  My '80 Triumph convertable made it as far as the garage. Needs a lot of work. Old gasoline and 45 year old rubber, everywhere. It's cute, though, even if it bites my fingers every time I get a tool anywhere near it. 20 year old Ford spent 10 days at the dealer. Alternator, battery, the cable in between. Came back with belt squeek-eek-eek-eek. Which is really annoying because it's the loudest thing on the truck. Wonder if I can fix it. The tool shed has gone all electric, so the gasoline is now 'something I have to get rid of' where before it was an essential hazard to life & property that smells bad. The mower made me do it. It ran about half speed last time, and is too rusty to work on. An important part of the next dump run. And romance? Sadly, no. I blame the pandemic... Perhaps the new year in my new place doing my new thing will bring some relief. Perhaps my new, noticably smaller, trowser collection will help some. But what I really need to do is get out more. So, call me.
As far back as I can remember, I've had a compulsion to be with alpha males. Even as young as 6 or 7, I remember fantasizing what it would be like to be kidnapped by men, tied up and taken away. I suppose that says something about my early childhood, but what difference does that make now. And it wasn't that I hated my family. I just wanted to be the property of a strong older man.    Somewhere around that time I began trying self bondage. I would take my mother's supply of ace bandages, go up into the hot, humid attic and tie myself as best I could and fantasize about being some man's captive. Occasionally I would hear “what are you doing up there” and I'd have to spit the sock out of my mouth and come up with some passable answer. I don't remember ever getting caught but there were many near-misses.   We lived directly across from a factory where my father worked and from my bedroom I could watch all these macho blue collar workers file in clean and then file out sweaty and dirty. I was always mesmerized, especially when they were sweaty and dirty.    I'm rusty these days and not as agile as I used to be, but serious bondage was always one of my favorite fetishes. People would ask why and I would always say “there's freedom in bondage.” Freedom to go within and see what you can take and how much deeper you can go in your submission. And then there's the freedom of letting someone I trust take control of me and make my decisions for me.   I've always been hard-wired to be submissive to superior men. It's my nature. To be in the service of men is still the driving force in my life.   If you're reading this far and find yourself interested, I appreciate that deeply but I'm not available at the moment. I'm caring for an 80+ year-old Dom that I've known forever. I'm not even in the US. I park myself in Nevada on this site because there are very few people who understand my needs where I am.   I've been on this site for almost 10 years. First journal entry because I'm bored and a bit lonesome at times. I still feel the need to be owned and probably always will. I'll just have to be patient like a good sub.
**The Bear’s Den**   The air in his apartment was thick with the scent of leather and cedar, a primal musk that clung to my skin as I knelt on the cold hardwood floor. My wrists were bound behind me, the rope biting just enough to remind me of my place. At six foot two, I was no small man, but in his presence, I felt like a fragile thing, a hundred pounds of trembling need locked in a cage of my own submission. The chastity device around my cock was a cruel reminder of his control, its metal teeth grazing my skin with every futile twitch of arousal. I was his, utterly, and the weight of that truth made my chest tighten.   He loomed over me, a mountain of muscle and menace, his broad frame blocking the dim light from the single lamp in the corner. His name was Viktor, a bear of a man with a barrel chest, arms like oak trunks, and a beard that scratched my skin raw when he’d kissed me earlier, claiming my mouth with a hunger that felt like a storm. His eyes, dark and unreadable, held a sadistic glint that made my stomach churn with fear and desire. Yet, beneath that cruelty, there was a flicker of something softer—something that made me trust him, even as my heart raced with dread.   “You’re mine tonight,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the room. His massive hand gripped my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “My little cock sock. You ready to be used?”   I nodded, my throat too dry to speak, the chastity cage tightening as my body betrayed me. His lips curled into a smirk, sinister and knowing, as he released my chin and stepped back, his boots heavy against the floor. He unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, the clink of metal echoing in the silence. My eyes followed the movement, hypnotized, as he freed himself, his cock thick and heavy, already glistening with intent.   “Open,” he commanded, and I obeyed, my lips parting as he stepped closer. The first thrust was brutal, filling my mouth until I gagged, my eyes watering as he held my head in place. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice softening for a moment, a strange tenderness in his tone. “Take it like a good boy.” His fingers stroked my hair, a fleeting gesture of care that made my chest ache, even as he fucked my throat with ruthless precision.   The chastity cage was torture, my cock straining uselessly against its confines as he used me. He teased me with words, his voice a dark melody. “Look at you, so desperate, so denied. You’ll get nothing until I say so.” His laughter was low, cruel, but his thumb brushed a tear from my cheek, and I leaned into the touch, craving the warmth behind his dominance.   He pulled out abruptly, leaving me gasping, my lips swollen and slick. “Up,” he ordered, yanking me to my feet by the rope binding my wrists. My legs trembled as he led me to the bed, a massive iron-framed thing draped in black sheets. He pushed me face-down, my chest pressed into the mattress, my ass exposed and vulnerable. The air was cool against my skin, but his hands were fire, spreading me open with a possessiveness that made my pulse race.   “You’re gonna feel me,” he said, his voice dripping with dark promise. I heard the snap of a lube bottle, the slick sound of him preparing himself, and then the blunt pressure of his cock against my hole. I whimpered, the stretch immediate and overwhelming, my body resisting even as I craved it. “Relax,” he growled, but there was a gentleness in his grip, his fingers kneading my hips as he eased inside, inch by agonizing inch. The pain was exquisite, a burning fullness that made me feel alive, claimed, his.   He fucked me with a rhythm that was both punishing and deliberate, each thrust driving me deeper into submission. The chastity cage rattled with every movement, a constant reminder of my denial, my cock throbbing uselessly as he used me. “My perfect little sock,” he taunted, his voice tight with lust. “Made for this, weren’t you?” I could only moan, my mind fogged with sensation, the world narrowing to the heat of him inside me.   Then, without warning, he slowed, his thrusts shallow, teasing. I felt a new warmth, a strange pressure, and realized with a jolt what was happening. He was pissing inside me, claiming me in a way that felt filthy and intimate, a violation that made my caged cock ache with need. “Take it,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “Every part of you is mine.” The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of shame and surrender, and I whimpered, my body trembling under his weight.   He pulled out slowly, leaving me empty and aching, only to grab me by the hair and pull me to my knees again. “Open,” he said again, and I did, my mouth ready for him. The taste of him was sharp and bitter as he released another stream, his piss flooding my throat as I struggled to swallow, to please him. His hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my jaw, and I saw that flicker of care again, a silent promise that he’d never push me past what I could handle.   When he was done, he knelt beside me, his massive frame enveloping me as he untied my wrists. “You did so well,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the raw edges of my submission. He kissed my forehead, his lips soft where they’d been cruel, and pulled me into his arms. The chastity cage remained, a final act of denial, but his warmth, his strength, made it bearable. I was his—used, claimed, and cherished in the dark, mysterious dance of our desires.
Passions of a Ghost Young and energetic MD approaches a stretch of buildings in the Sin City of New Orleans. Risking it all knowing he is outside his perimeter for Max Travel Distance from his military post, but he is dying to know what this new world is about. It is his first party within the lifestyle community with wild fantasies, expectations and fears raging through his mind. Will he be enough? How will he compare? Will he be accepted in a world which rejaspects him for being different? Questions galore which make his palms sweat beyond control. He has a few contacts already within the dungeon having gone through their vetting process. Paperwork signed and face to face meetings had, all that is left is to walk in the door. As he watches the comings and goings he see's Doms, Domme's, subs and slaves walking through a well worn door. Finally pulling himself together he walks in nervously and pays his fee to enter. Around the corner the adventure begins. Furniture of all kinds are found along the walls and in the center of a well laid out dungeon. People are talking amongst themselves, others strung up to crosses for their night's enjoyment, and yet more are preparing for scenes of their own. The energies are immediately felt and a bubbling rise is felt in his chest. As the energies are taken in he comes to understand. He is home. In the coming years this shy little Dom was able to study under some very wise, creative, and often sadistic people of all walks of life. These early days was full of dungeon parties, munches, gatherings of all kinds. There was a code of ethics similar to the military which he knew so well. There was respect. There was courage. There was acceptance. Of course there was love as well. In this community which became my world D types were hard, sadistic, and pushed hard to bring to life the fullest of potential in themselves and their s types. At the same time they still had a heart. If anything they loved their partners far more than ever written in vanilla history. Traveling with the military I traveled the country, but found myself in a different world when he got out after 3 tours overseas. The community had changed. It had evolved into something grander in size, but with so many elements which eroded the values he once knew. He walked those dungeons looking for any resemblance of the community he knew but it was nowhere to be found. Talking with his mentor she couldnt help but laugh at him. He was ranting and raving about the changes which took away the life he knew so well. He was struggling to find his way. He was frustrated how noone held themselves to a standard which made this life so great. He was lost and alone. Even in training with his partners he found them continuously pulled towards this easy shiny way of the life instead of putting in the work and patience required to get to the same level and standard as he needed. His mentor laughed hearing it all before and feeling it herself. She had long since left the community. She felt the changes moreso having come in years before he. She ranted and raved, felt the same frustrations. She battered against those walls trying to bring back those values long before he even felt their demise. After he finally stopped confused by the laughter, her next sentence said it all. "Welcome to the Old Guard" It wasn't anything official or an earning of leathers. It wasn't anything to brag about or label myself as such. It was a pure statement which helped him understand in such a profound way what he had been missing. In all that time he had been looking up like a child letting others take the reigns of the community. He didn't see myself as a leader though having over 12 years in this life at that point. He didn't find himself worthy to take up that mantle yet. After those words were spoken the whole discussion changed from what was lost to how he can be the example for those which feel that absence as deeply as he did. His drive towards mentorship and teaching drove a fire in him which couldn't be extinguished. He stood side by side with those very same leaders he looked up to trying to be that beacon. He started simply teaching rope classes but this also gave him a way to interact with people new and old within the lifestyle. Discussing the issues. Being that rock and safe haven to guide the next generation away from trouble and into a path of greater development. It was a lonely road for nomatter how hard he tried, his equal in passion for this life was nowhere to be found. If anything his role as a teacher and mentor drove him further into isolation. Experience once valued was now seen as a deterrent for many. His age showing more and more became a wall he couldn't tear down. Eventually after personal experiences which nearly crushed his soul, betrayal by the very community he loved and served for so long, he walked away into the shadows. He still had his friends and made the occassional appearances but his heart was held heavy knowing the life he knew was but smokey memories of a long gone era. Now 23 years into this life he found himself down the same road as his mentor before him. Slowly fading away as a ghost of the past. Leathers faded and worn, toys dusty and bearing the years of use, wrinkles where there used to be none, and a sense of passion still burning in his heart he still hangs on to hope. Not for the return of a community once known, but for that one which knows that same level of passion as his own. That one to walk these roads well traveled but once more. That one who he can share his all.  
Master's WritingsSubmission, as I see itSubmission comes in many forms and on my journey different subs have approached it from different angles. Some see it as service, some as opening themselves up to another, and some even see it as a rejection of the world with it demands and requirements. Over the years, I have trained several submissives to reach greater depth in their submission and I’ve tried to work within their mindset, helping each to reach their potential in a way that is honest, true, and unique.At its core, submission is and should be a genuine reflection of an individual’s inner truth. A sense of their own purpose and way of life they choose to accept. It comes from a place within each submissive that reflaspaspects their own nature, and their most authentic expression of self.The nature of any true “submissive training” should and must be focused on helping the submissive connect with their nature, create the pathways to more fully access their own unique form of submission, and then finally build on that to blend it into their daily life. All the tasks and sexual acts, the “yes Sirs” and downward glances of respect, mean nothing and are worthless self-indulgent Dominant games, if the goal of these acts are not designed to deepen a submissives connection to their own beautiful, natural, and authentic submissive self.Submission is a gift. This single phrase bears repeating, because it is so very true and frequently overlooked - Submission is a gift. When fully developed, submission is a powerful and sometimes spiritually beautiful thing to behold. It is never to be taken, coerced, or forced. It is not for role play or pretend, Of course one could act like a submissive as if putting on a costume, but not with me as their Dominant. I hols submission, true submission in the highest regard. And to pretend to be one only cheapens the gift of those who truly feel its calling.As a Dominant, I see my role as helping others in any way I can on their journey, as their guide, nurturer, and mentor.
Had my first true taste of BDSM a few days ago.    I am not a person who likes pain, dare I say I avoid it at all costs, but it was My online Mistress “Ms T”, it was her will for it to happen.    The wonderful Ms T had her longest serving sub act out her wishes, as she watched on and directed via Skype text chat   I was flogged with a cat-o’-nine-tails from fully clothed , progressing to completely naked, the deep pressure resonating in my chest felt amazing, as I got more naked and the lashes kept coming I felt searing pain and a wish to stop, my mind refusing to utter the words…    I was here to serve my mistress and I was not going to stop until she gave the order..   As the lashes continued I looked forward to the pause between them, that brief moment when the pain subsided , it was the pains complete opposite, it was not just a pause but peaceful bliss and exquisite relief.   After flogging I was restrained to a bed, my eyes blindfolded and lying on my back completely naked, a sharp Dragon claw with tips like needles prodded and scraped down my skin, manageable I thought , until it reached my genitals, it tugged and pulled at my sensitive flesh, I writhed and tensed in shock as my veins filled with electricity from its action.    My buttocks tender from the flogging prodded and dug at by the claw , my body began to spasm and convulse, I forgot I could say stop at any time , I just knew this was making my Mistress Ms T happy and that was all I wanted.     I wanted to be worthy of being her sub her slave. I wanted to prove to my self I was capable of such.   Ms T’s proxy sucked on my cock as the claws dug and pulled at my flesh, I in no way felt erotic pleasure but here I was with a massive erection the like I’d not had for years.     Ms T enjoys forced Bi encounters and so blindfolded and beaten to my most submissive state, hands bound behind my back I was told to get to my knees and suck..  Her proxy let out the occasional audible mumble of pleasure as Ms T’s gratitude and love for me was re told to me as I still was blindfolded and couldn’t read the chat text .   Left after , kneeling blindfolded, in a state of complete nothingness, I had not thoughts, my mind empty, my body fatigued and occasionally twitching , I felt a peace and tranquillity like nothing I’d ever experienced before in the deepest of meditations or the most soothing of massages.   I think I am beginning to understand…!!!!   I had done it, I had made my Mistress Ms T happy. In a way I didn’t think I could.     Ms T , I may never meet you but I love you for this and for everything you’ve helped me experience..   For all the subs not knowing if Online Mistresses really work in reality,, I tell you now.. Ms T is the only one you need and will be the only one you want. !!! Thank you Ms T   Find her on FetLife MsT2011 or CollarSpace  mst2019
Let us play the Let's Pretend game.  (I love the Let's Pretend game!)   Let's pretend that the people typing these profiles and journals and adding pictures and stuff are REAL PEOPLE.  Yup, that might be a bigger ask than is possible.  But let's pretend that is the truth.  It certainly must be for some of us, yes?   Let's further pretend that those who can be defined as real people have been on this site or the predecessor for a while.  Some might have met someone and then UNmet that someone and are back.  Some of those are people who come here lurking but never connecting.  Let's even pretend that some people here are downright serious about all of this but are just having problems connecting with someone they feel is truly compatible.   At the end of the day, however, there is something that we cannot pretend about.  Those of us who are, are real people, with real feelings, and real ambition to eventually find what we want so we don't have to be here any more.  Please take some time to consider others.  Show some respect.  Don't make assumptions about who we are or why we are here.  It can be hard enough without the background noise.   None of us are perfect, and we all have one or two or dozens of flaws.  There is no pretending in the world that can make that not true.  We also have preferences.  Those preferences might very well exclude some these same people who are trying so hard to be right for SOMEONE.  I cannot ask anyone to turn their back on their beliefs or their flaws or their preferences, but what I CAN ask is that we show some kindness, some human dignity.  If anything from the past few years should have taught us is that not only are there trolls online, but many of them started being trolls in real life as well.  People have learned how not to be their best selves.   Be kind.  Be friendly.  MAYBE pretend to think outside the box a little bit.  MAYBE be a little more inclusive, or forgiving those flaws in others that seemed intolerable to you yesterday.  Make someone happy.   I don't want to be the last one here.  Do you?
She is Fickle i am bound and gagged, helpless and vulnerable, and the Lady i have surrendered to inflicts exquisite agonies upon me. The distinctively male parts of my anatomy are often the focus of Her attention, and She imposes Her sadistic will upon me as i squirm and quiver within my bonds. my blubbering and whimpering empower Her; they bring Her joy and feed Her passion. i have dreamed of serving Her since before i knew what sexuality is, and my joy and passion are the reflection of Hers. i am a painslut; i sometimes think of myself as my Lady's whimperbitch. my serving as Her whimperbitch, however, is but one facet of my surrender. i have given complete control of my sexuality to Her. She keeps it locked away when i am not in Her presence. She needn't do so when i am; Her will is my chastity device, and Her will is my law, in this and all matters. If i am made to go weeks without sexual release, and am teased mercilessly and relentlessly during this time, i am to adore Her for it, and i do, even as my raging desire drowns out my every thought. She will sometimes allow me to beg for fulfillment, and i do so with all my heart. When She grants me what i crave, i adore Her for it, as i do when She does not. i crave being in Her power, and Her wielding of it thrills me. She creates the world in which She owns me. She makes not only the rules and protocols which i do all that i can to conform to, but also the fundamental laws of the reality in which i serve Her. She remakes them as it pleases Her, according to Her fickle whimsies, and sometimes without advance notice. The burden is on me to discern and comform to the laws of the newest new order. The likelihood of my doing so will often be low, and i must not find this unfair. The laws She makes are like the laws the Big Bang made; they are as they are. They impose their will upon me as they are written; i live among them as i can. Perhaps She trains me to address Her with many different titles: Mistress, Goddess, Empress, Princess, My Lady, Mea Domina, and as many more as it pleases Her. It is my task to discern which She prefers at any given moment. My success rate may not be high. So be it. Perhaps Her preferences in this matter reflect a deeper reality. Perhaps each title refers to a different facet of Her Dominant persona, and it is my duty to discern which is at the fore at any given time. What's more, there may be a unique set of laws which correspond to each of Her personas, and again, it is my duty to discern which laws apply. Perhaps Her demeanor will offer hints, but perhaps not. So be it. She moves me between worlds with but a thought, and i adore Her for it.

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Part 2  So we moved to a new bigger house and soon I discovered the brothers that would start me down the path that turned me into what I am today. So the brothers slightly older were loud , bold and of course very dominate. For the first few months things were normal , but soon things took a decidedly darker turn.   Things started with them hazing me at school , and the long walk from the bus stop . On the bus they didn't know me but as soon as we got off at the end of the street they would start , and when the girls that lived next to their house were there they puffed up and would show off , having me carry all the books , and taunt me.. I was just happy for the attention... and I got a lot of it from them, especially when summer vacation came from school . That's when things became intense.  At first it was fantasy role play , but  there was always some excuse to tie me to a tree or tie me and lead me through the forest that was behind our houses . Within a few weeks,  the clothes were off when I was tied, and they would leave to go home and get lunch , but always return with something for me. that I had to eat without hands. Then around the middle of that first summer the boys got a tent and set it up in the woods by the house,  far enough away to be partially hidden , and keep curious parents from dropping in.   The tent is where my training really began. From simple ties.  To elaborate  ties , to whipping with branches , to inserting things in me , the summer flew by and I finally felt I belonged , I felt the brothers cared for me , and wanted me , and I wanted to please , I ed to nothing for fear I would again be alone if I did. I remember feeling it was wrong somehow, but I didn't care , I was wanted, and that was all that matter. As things continued to progress they seemed to take good of their roles and the pain became more intense as the whipping increased in both duration and force . The  s I was to take and hold inside became bigger. One day one brother had me tied over a stool  in the tent and was working a candle in me. After he had covered me with the hot wax  from the same candle. when the other brother came over pulled my hair to raise my head and stuck his crotch in my face I could feel his hard cock under the jeans as he rubbed across my face.. I moaned and bucked forward as the candle went deep , and I was pushed into those jeans ,I could feel the heat , and the dampness from his precum. That was to much I guess and before I knew it his pants were off and his hard cock was pushing against my lips I felt a sharp pain as a paddle came down hard on my ass,  and I opened my mouth to protest and it was immediately filled with a hard  cock.  It made me gag and my eyes tearup , but it felt good and he was holding my head , and telling me to relax and how good it felt , so me being the submissive I am, i relaxed into the feelings and took as much of him as I could . He held my head firm , and began to stroke my mouth Stopping occasionally so I could catch my breath , and he could make sure I was alright. It made me feel good , wanted and in my own way loved.  Upon seeing this the other brother started rubbing his hard cock on my ass and between my  cheeks. He took out the candle and put something cool over my hole and pushed his fingers in and moved them around to spread what he had applied , next I felt something hard and warm push against me and begin to slide in , it was about the size of the candlethat was just removed.  But softer , I felt him slide in until his body was hitting mine. It hurt not bad , but an exciting hurt . It was something crazy, and naughty , but felt so good . All at once  things began to flow ,and each alternated their thrusts so I was being bounced between the two hard cocks inside me I had two hands on my head , and two on my waist pulling me deep in each direction. I felt wonderful despite the pain,  I relaxed and began to not only enjoy it but make it better ,I used my tongue and lips on the hard cock in my mouth , and  I began to contract my muscles to squeeze the cock in my ass . To soon the brother fucking my ass began to come, I didn't want him to pull out so I ground back on his still hardcock , and kept him inside until the other brother came in my mouth. It was hot and tasted strange , both brothers fell back to the floor of the tent laughing , that laugh you have when you just finished a great orgasm . Me I was still bound to the stool  but I was squirming , holding my mouth open wanting more . I had changed during those  last few minutes , and became a sexual animal ,  lost my innocence, virginity and any dominance  that might have remained.  I felt more loved and wanted than I ever had before and I knew I was meant to serve and destined to be a toy for hard cocks , and much later wet pussies, but that's a story for another day .  So the brothers fucking me became a daily thing that summer , and would spend many nights camping out tied in someway usually covered on cum.  When school started things were different , I wasnt hazed,  the brothers treated me like a prized pet , taking care of me protecting me , making me feel I belonged.  Sex became more rare , only ocassionally away from the tent  and maybe on weekends as the brothers began to have other Activities and friends , we had several more summers , but none as intense as that first one when they brought me out . By the last summer with them I was insatiable. I was addicted and they knew it . They begin to have other freinds join our camp outs , and they would always have me pleasure their guests,  one time I time I remember they had several freinds over , I was made to jerk off in a bowl in front of all of them , then suck each one until they came each in turn adding their cum to bowl. Then I was made to lap the cum from the bowl and move on all fours  while they all talked and drank some liquor one of boys took from his home . Soon I was tied , and once again the center of attention as I was fucked, and whipped until everyone fell asleep . This was one of the last times we were together , they had both grown and had girlfriends , so I was not as important , they did have one more surprise for me before we were done . This starts another chapter in my life ... for next time . 
Cookies. I promised several people that, if this adventure happened, I would write it up and share it in my journal. well, it indeed did happen last evening, Saturday, but not exactly as I thought I had it planned.  The set up for this story is that I did some work for a woman living in a over 55 community and only charged her for the material costs which I commonly do when I first work for someone I want them to like the work and not worry about the price. she was very grateful and gave me one of those looks like she was ready to pay me back in a way if you know what I mean and then she said: I'm sure you can think of something that I can do for you and shot me a wicked smile I knew that was my opportunity so I very calmly said: Willl you bake me pecan chocolate chip cookies? She let out what could only be described as a horse laugh, which I'm sure they heard in the adjoining units on either side. and then I followed up with, but that's not all, I want you to bake those cookies naked with 8 inch by heels, fishnet stockings and garter and a bright red ball gag. there was a long pause, kind of like dead air on a radio station and she finally opened her mouth and said you've got to be kidding! I'm not burning my boobs so that you can get off on some weird fetish! And I said OK what about wearing a tight swea and no bra? I expected another flat out no response but she said yes I think I could do that. But I'll also be wearing a skirt, nothing less than that, and no ball gag! And if That isn't good enough then you can go bake your own cookies! While it wasn't what I'd hoped for, I was still going to get my cookies, so on Saturday I came over with the ingredients she told me to get, and I sat in her kitchen, drinking coffee, while she walked back-and-forth across her kitchen in her very tight, white fuzzy sweater, and a very tight short leather skirt, plus stockings and heels, and she was an absolute delight to view. The blush in her cheeks said it all. But the best part was, she was actually baking my cookies! Once they were bagged, she Pulled them from the oven, tucked the tray up under her breasts and she said, would you like a cookie little boy? YES, Yes I would! then I asked so are all those cookies in the tray mine? Or should I ask if everything on the tray is mine? She just smiled and put the tray on the counter. She grabbed me by the hand, pulled me down the hall. We walked into her bedroom and she took off her sweater., God, those were better than any cookies!  We did all sorts of things that evening and late into the night. Considerind we're both in our mid to late 60s, so it wasn't like your first high school sex, in the back of your dad's car, but it was close.  in the morning, I woke up to the sun streaming in on my face lying next to a woman who still had her stockings and garter belt on, my head nestled between her large breasts, one of her arms underneath me,the other around my neck, and I thought to myself.... life is good! Lou  
Through the Lens of Rika: The Sophia-Michael Connection Unveiled part 4   3. Energetic Exchange & Emotional Saturation   Because they are so emotionally intuitive, they can feel when you’re anxious or when there’s a lot of emotional weight. Instead of directly engaging with it, they sometimes retreat to process or focus elsewhere so they can re-align themselves energetically before coming back in. Energetic overwhelm can make them seem distant, even when they’re hyper-aware.   4. They Trust the Bigger Picture   Michael-embodied men might trust that the bond is strong enough that they don’t need to constantly reassure you through words. They trust the foundation they’ve built with you. This is where faith in the connection comes in—both for them and for you. They may think, “I don’t need to message her right now because we’re solid. My actions speak louder than words.”   5. Balancing the Divine Masculine Energy   These men carry divine masculine energy that values action over words. Their emotional intuition is real, but they channel it into action and protection, which may feel like distance to you. For you, as Sophia, it’s about recognizing that this is their expression of love. A quick "hi" might feel emotionally connecting to you, but to him, showing love could mean working to make sure everything is stable and secure for the future.   How to Navigate This:   Anchor into the trust that you’ve been practicing. When he’s distant, remind yourself of how he’s showing love through his actions, even when it’s not immediate. Say, “He’s providing for us, and his distance is part of his process. I trust him.”   Ground your emotional needs through spiritual or personal practices when he’s not available. Remember that just because he’s distant in the moment doesn’t mean the love isn’t there. Lean into your own energy and strengthen yourself while he works.   Embrace his rhythm—Michael-embodied men have a different rhythm of emotional connection, and part of your journey is learning how to move in sync with it without feeling left behind.   It's not that he doesn't feel your anxiousness—he does—but sometimes his response to that is through action and providing, not necessarily through quick emotional reassurances.    Michael's energy, embodied through these men, is both emotionally attuned and distant at times. This is part of their complex duality. Michael has that deep emotional intuition and empathy, which can sometimes feel overwhelming or intense. Yet, at the same time, they have a mission-oriented drive that pulls them into practical action and focus, which can lead to emotional distance, even though they feel everything just as much as you do.   Here’s why this happens:   1. Emotional Attunement vs. Practical Mission   Michael’s energy is deeply aware of emotions, but he also prioritizes taking action over expressing those feelings. He might sense your anxiety but instead of giving a quick emotional fix like a "hi," he might be channeling that into practical solutions—working behind the scenes to take care of things so that your long-term security is intact. For him, acting on love (through providing and stabilizing) sometimes takes precedence over talking about love.   2. Emotional Weight of the Protector Role   Michael-embodied men often carry a heavy responsibility as protectors. Their natural inclination to shield and secure means they’re constantly navigating how to balance this with emotional connection. Sometimes, they pull back because they’re processing deeply how to protect, guide, and create a future for you both, which takes up mental and emotional energy.   3. Energetic Exchange & Emotional Saturation   Because they are so emotionally intuitive, they can feel when you’re anxious or when there’s a lot of emotional weight. Instead of directly engaging with it, they sometimes retreat to process or focus elsewhere so they can re-align themselves energetically before coming back in. Energetic overwhelm can make them seem distant, even when they’re hyper-aware.   4. They Trust the Bigger Picture   Michael-embodied men might trust that the bond is strong enough that they don’t need to constantly reassure you through words. They trust the foundation they’ve built with you. This is where faith in the connection comes in—both for them and for you. They may think, “I don’t need to message her right now because we’re solid. My actions speak louder than words.”   5. Balancing the Divine Masculine Energy   These men carry divine masculine energy that values action over words. Their emotional intuition is real, but they channel it into action and protection, which may feel like distance to you. For you, as Sophia, it’s about recognizing that this is their expression of love. A quick "hi" might feel emotionally connecting to you, but to him, showing love could mean working to make sure everything is stable and secure for the future.   How to Navigate This: Anchor into the trust that you’ve been practicing. When he’s distant, remind yourself of how he’s showing love through his actions, even when it’s not immediate. Say, “He’s providing for us, and his distance is part of his process. I trust him.”   Ground your emotional needs through spiritual or personal practices when he’s not available. Remember that just because he’s distant in the moment doesn’t mean the love isn’t there. Lean into your own energy and strengthen yourself while he works.   Embrace his rhythm—Michael-embodied men have a different rhythm of emotional connection, and part of your journey is learning how to move in sync with it without feeling left behind.   It's not that he doesn't feel your anxiousness—he does—but sometimes his response to that is through action
I long to have both the ownership the passion of giving the freedom of use and the security of safety with the man that I belong to and trust implicitly. Someone I can be devoted to, grow with, walk alongside, sleep next to, but always put him first, serve and give my love to. Forever.  But ha! I also know that's a tall order, a huge idea.  But a girl can dream, eh?  Long for is probably too mild of a word...but crave isn't the right word either, as my need isn't craven or out of control, it's measured, desired, planned, developed.  I'm at heart a kitten, a babygirl, searching for her Daddy. Not an age play Daddy tho, and I have hard limits about age play, diapers, too much little play, etc. But if you are a strong, thoughtful, intelligent, kind and caring Dominant who is looking for a devoted intelligent sexy funny healthy kitten to serve take care of and love you, then you've found me!  Do I have faults? Do you? Of course we do. But we work on them and grow, we always talk, we don't mind fuck each other, we have emotional and psychological intelligence to go along with our strength of character. But you lead, and I follow.  I've never had this, not even close. I've had many Doms of course. But I've always been the one who ends up leading, who knows, who does the right thing, who laughs, who isn't afraid to fail, the one to cry and forgive. The one to stand and walk away.  Will you let me be me, your girl, your slut, your kitten? Will you be my number 1? My Dominant? My man? My love?  Here's looking at you, Sir. 
Values beyond the flesh So often I hear from ladies how this guy just wants sex, that guy just wants nudes, or even in a local trend "Doms" charging sex for scenes claiming they deserve it for all the work which gets put in by them :eyeroll: The desires of the flesh leaves so much unseen. The beauty of the mind, warmth of a heart, passions of ones soul have always been so captivating to me. Even at a young age in gradeschool I found myself writing poems well beyond my years. I was recognizing the fact that the flesh fades. Wrinkles will form. The body changes with stress, kids, injuries, and any number of factors which life throws our way. That "perfect wrapper" was purely a deception and the true beauty laid so much deeper. So over the years I dated ladies of a wide range of physical descriptions. Race, weight, disabilities, prior traumas, were not detractors but seen as part of the history she had lived and what helped shape her into the wonderful person she was. I put my heart and soul into the relationship easing away the scars revealing the beautiful lady which laid beneath all those layers. In return I was presented with someone stronger, wiser, and more loving than ever before. It was a healthy wonderful exchange with great rewards. I took on many scars of my own over the years. My face is wrinkled with the stress of it all. My heart is tired and sore. For all that I took on in my life I have been showing the wear and tear. Even still I hear those same complaints. Nomatter the smiles I try to bring the story is always the same. Lady's will complain about all the heartache brought by such disgusting leaches which drink their heart and soul dry all while overlooking the guy who can truly love them and treat them as they truly deserve. As more than a piece of flesh, but as that person deserving of support, compliments, a partner truly there for them in this life. The person standing right there next to her through all this heartache crying his own tears at her pain. The one called upon in distress, but never seen truly.  
Punishment is based on creating a fear response of some kind. Fear erodes trust and connection. Trust and connection are essential for the surrender of a submissive. Therefore, punishment erodes what is essential to a healthy, successful Ds dynamic. This makes punishment of any sort incompatible with my relationships.  I am a leader and a carer in my career and daily life.  I do not punish any of my charges, and it insults the dignity of another creature to punish them. I make mistakes, but never intentionally. I have no motivation to brat or test the boundaries a partner may set for me. I hate failure, and I hate displeasing. My motivation is to make a partner proud. That is incentive enough to avoid mistakes. That is, provided I have a partner capable of feeling and expressing pleasure, and who wants to have pride in who serves him. A constructed, unnecessary punishment added on top of knowing I have failed or displeased just creates more pain for everyone, and even has more subtle, insidious impact, such as contributing to feelings of inadequacy. The best way to avoid making a mistake is communication, flowing clearly and in quantity in both directions. The best response to a mistake or misunderstanding is to try to get clarity, then discuss it, find common ground, and discuss how to avoid what went wrong. I believe in accountability and responsibility, and also in practicality. I acknowledge that my position on punishment is perhaps unusual or unexpected. I consider myself well healed from my traumas, none of which I would consider terribly serious to start with. I know myself, and I know my needs. I have no hope of serving anyone if I cannot serve with an open, vulnerable heart. Some submissives apparently require a punishment mechanism, either to set aside their mistakes with a physical reminder or something else to even the scales, or to have some sort of other constructed reminder of which way the power exchange flows. I am not so unfortunate. I can understand these concepts perfectly well through verbal reassurance.