Sadly the following gift card scam is the most action I ever see after joining these types of websites for the past decade  I'm happy to know how serious you are to explore this fetish life style. I shall be taking you stage by stage to make sure you understand all about what I'm requesting from you and what you need to know about my lifestyle. Reading your response let me understand more that you are not a novice but you still require some training in this lifestyle.I will be more than happy to train and transform you to the best of your ability to serve dominant. I shall be discussing with you list of my kinks, rules and regulations which are mandatory whenever you meet any dominant.Before that,i have listed below questions i will want to know about you and it is as follow :1) What do you do for a living ? Do you think your work can prevent you in anyway to explore your fetish side.2) Have you any fetish or kink you have always wanted to explore before now .. i like you to share with me if there is any ?3) Do you think you are ready to explore this lifestyle with me on a serious level of commitments, and if you pass your 3 task are you ready to be my collared slave?4) How old are you presently ?5) Do you think you can ever get so deep with fetish activities?6) How can you describe your personality ?7) What could be your hard limitations ?8) When you write me a message try to be more polite to include your initial below your message,that shows some respect.9) Include your picture ?10) Were do you live presently ?11)Hope buying the fetish materials for your training session will not be a problem for you ?12) Once you are ready to serve and train under my command as your dominant master, you should be ready to deactivate your profile from " website " .. Agree or disagree?I hope to read from you soon.Dominantly

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

How to have limit if you didnt find your own limit(retoric question)   I take myself for an exemple. Im actually a variated person, wich have too much kinks i did, want to do, want to experiment. But my biggest problem is on my speciality, Sadism! I never find the bottom, i can fall soo much, the the hole is too much profund... Then how i can know, how far i would go ? Simple. I adapt myself to the limit of the other. And if she/he didnt discovered it, i just gradually descent. Actually people i knew have short hard limit, its easy to adapt. Some time im a little scared about one day i find someone like me, because, im difficultly shocked about things. Then the only limit i will put is law and security limit, no amputating or things i cant control, if for me i can put my partner to a state of death i will not doing this. I cant control the blood loss, im not doing this. Permanent loss of important part of body, its depend but most part i will not doing this. Im not a chirurgical doctor, i dont have the skill and surely mess up all. Resulting to a critical state of no return. A limit is here to prevent all of this.   If the other dont have limit, your duty is to create one youself to prevent critical situation. 

To elaborate on my interest/search: First, no headless profiles or photos of yourself heavily edited or otherwise masked by a photo app, otherwise my first and last impression of you will be that you are a fake or catfisher -- I won't respond.  Bad English is also a tip off. Sexual encounters are not a priority, in fact most of my fetish play encounters to present have been non-sexual; as anyone who has played before knows 99% of fetish is mental.  A regular relationship with someone who has common interests, particularly with bondage, is ideal for developing intimacy but not essential.  Just play is perfectly fine.  I'm not here for a 'blow and go' so if you're just looking to get off I am not for you. Finally, I've dated or otherwise met a number of different indviduals over the years;  in my opinion life is too short to 'search for the perfect one'; I prefer those like myself who are open minded and grounded that I get along well with to see where it goes over time.    

The sun shining subtly on a sideof this sin is like a sound in my insidesthat shimmer with silence.Silence that strain to see the stars.And soon this season will shift away,and my sadness will slither southboundwith these strenuous sufferings.I may bask in the sun,but those stars sing my song.Someone may scoff at this small bird,but I dare souls to reveal their sub scrip tions.I might be seized in a straightjacketand my sex deprived, my song stolen,and my stimulation snuffed.But this sum is still greater than most dull lives.This is how a songbird thrives.But lo, this is no ordinary songbird.This is a phoenix, singing its pleasurebehind a mask of silence,and setting aflame her significancein favor for ashes.~ dirtydarling

MY "ACTIVELY SEEKING" SECTION SHOULD ALSO INCLUDE: SEEKING CROSSDRESSERS

It has been brought to my attention that Desire, my previous journal entry, was cut off midway through. So below I will post the rest of it. Desire part 2  What COULD he do? Bound as he was, I had not ever tested if he could crawl. I climbed down from the bed and tiptoed out of the room and walked back in as if I was returning from elsewhere. He jerked in the direction of my sounds, bells tinkling on my anklet, I noisily gathered a chain leash and walked to his helpless body and attached it to the ring on the collar of his special hood. "Come, puppy." I called in my sing song voice, the very one I use for my cats. "Come on, my handsome boy." He made a muffled noise and tried to orient his body to follow. Trying to rise up on his elbows and knees. I knelt down and gently petted his right cheek and could see him inhale and exhale sharply. "Good boy, that's right, come to me, follow, boy. Goood boy, my handsome boy" He tried to orient his body yet again and one of my cats wandered up and meowed, they, too, were used to such talk from me. As he struggled to get to his knees and elbows I tugged the leash impatiently as if irritated and said, "hurry the fuck up". I dragged him some by his neck and funnily enough he got into the position to hobble behind me. I smiled at that, his determination to please me. It was intoxicating. I led him, blind, behind me through the house to the third bedroom, which was my "office". It was under lock and key, in fact, the key for the office happened to also work on the lock of his cage, I had the lock on the door altered to match the key so he could not enter without permission. He knew that in that room he wasn't to speak. There he was a dog. My dog. My faithful puppy. We entered and I gave different commands. Sit, and he got into a kneeling position. Stay. And he would remain. Heel and he'd crawl to me and heel. Obedience. Blind obedience. I sat in my chair opened  the drawer on my desk as he knelt beside my right leg. Opened a book I kept in there and turned to the most recent page. I read through and opened my mouth and said firmly. "Yesterday, my property degraded himself and so degraded me. 25 swats with the cane. Get into position to receive" he groaned but complied as best he could while hobbled. "Remember, we do not move away from the pain, perfect love has perfect trust, be ready to receive. This is your penance. Count each stroke of the cane and be grateful to suffer and try to remember that to harm yourself is to harm Me, to love yourself is to love Me" He barked an affirmative, as the rule of the room was no speaking. The first strike he was still, taking the sting of the thin willowy cane. *bark* By the fifth his behind was quite red with deep lines. His barks were breathy and he swayed. *bark* counted out the tenth stroke. There trickled a pink clear fluid from one of the pretty lines. *bark* his voice was weary even through the hood and he had sweat in beads on his back. This was stroke 20. He trembled visibly and rocked on his knees. I thought I heard a sniffle. I raised the cane and swung but didn't strike him. He tensed and moved forward but not away. His breathing was quick yet shallow. I imagined tears and sweat and saliva in his hood. I raked my nails across his warmed ass, this was primal for me. This reminded me that he wasn't the only beast in the room. I wondered if I were sick, his perfect sadist, was I a monster to be so aroused by the brutality. I leaned down and said to him, lovingly, "there are five more, my love, are you strong enough to endure for me?" He nodded his head quickly and let out a low "bruf" bark. I stepped back, raised my arm and struck him quickly, five times, as hard as I could. I felt the cane cracking and at the last swat it snapped and a piece of the cane flew up and hit me. Startling me I yelped and he tried to get up and attend to me, forgetting his place and forgetting his binding and forgetting to bark five times. I should have written it down that the penance was not complete but was moved by his desire to care for me even when he was broken. "I'm fine. Remember your place" I called out. He stayed quiet for a minute and then nodded and barked five times to complete his punishment. Could I have been more in love with a man? I doubt it. I got down on my knees beside him and caressed his leather bound head and clucked over him. I cleaned his wounds and kissed his face over and over. I stood up and returned my book to my desk and gave another command. "Pleasure" He flopped onto his side and rolled onto his back with his legs opened. The true purpose of how he was bound is that being in a frog tie made it more difficult for him to fuck me. I decided I wouldn't yet unlock him so I sat on him in his cold metal cage with my hot pussy. Enjoying the feeling of him cooling my skin. Knowing that my weight on him was applying pressure to the wounds on his ass. He immediately tried to buck but I placed my right hand on his chest and my left on his neck and pressed down. He grunted and tried again to buck. Jerking his head upward in frustration, precum leaking out of his cage and smearing on his pubic hair and my lips. I began to grind on him, pressing hard on his neck while feeling his heart beat under my palm. Knowing that I was using my weight on his neck. He'd slow down and I'd release him and feel his heart race. The metal cage now warmed and wet from both of us. The blood and air rushing to his brain and lungs. "Would you like to cum, do you want me to unlock you?" I cooed and moaned and he sighed and nodded and gave a short "ruff". I slapped him and laughed. Then I moaned, "No, you haven't earned it" and ground against him in slow circles, feeling his balls draw up tight to his body. I scooted forward and leaned back to fiddle with his cage as I bounced on his chest, listening to the air whoosh out of his lungs. The sparse hairs tickled my clit and I felt I'd explode at any moment. I turned my torso and unlocked him. Now erect and free. "Are you allowed to cum without permission?" I asked breathily?" "Uhn" he grunted shaking his head and bucking his hips. </spa

I'm hesitant to update my profile. There's a few things that need changed, and a few more that need added. I wonder how long it will take to be approved... If I seemingly ignore you, keep chatting anyway, because I may be unable to respond. Updates: Reiterate that Hubby is a platonic friend, not a kink, sex, or D/s partner Political ideology matters. Drumpf=no, nuh-uh, hell naw Sub/slave skill bonus for repairing fence, organizing online selling Can't meet w/in 6 weeks, don't bother until you are. (Maybe 8 for holidays?) Be realistic!! No, you can't completely escape the Real World by being a slave in my Home. I'm not going to kidnap you and/or lock you in a cage, even if you beg and plead. That's foolish, unrealistic, and would be irresponsible for me to do.  We each have to be accountable to some degree. That's for your protection and mine. (If you don't understand this, ask.) May have The Form™️ online soon. Wish me luck! lol

Why do you do this? So here is my question and my issue...  Why are you here?  I know that the fakes and scammers are here to try and make a buck, and the Doms and Dommes are hre for their respective reasons, but this goes out to all those subs and slaves that need to pull their heads out of their asses. I have been around CS since it was CM, Not even sure if my old account is still active or not but regardless I want to know, why it is you dont have at least the basic respect for the ones giving their time to write you a simple reply? I can understand scrolling the mouse over an email and ignoring it if it has one sentance, but if some one takes the time to write out a whole paragraph introduction and you still ignore it, leaving it unread for years and yes I said years, there are some that I personally did a cleanup on this last month on my email dating back to pre covid still unread Seriously, there needs to be the old user notes back on profile so that you can make note of those you talk to, have mail unread with, etc And to those reading this that actually have notes in their mail like this be it from me or others, at least give the common respect that We deserve and write back that your not interested at the LEAST so that we can, at least those that are level headed, can simply move on I know that I only talk to one at a time here, and if a mail goes unaswered for a few days of seeing that user online every day, I will move onto the next But not everyone is like that here, some will bitch, rant, and wine that why aren't you answering your emails etc Now not all of those are trolls or fakes, but a good portion are mentally children if they do that A good not to the Doms and Dommes ,,,  Dommes not so much really,,,  SOMETIMES you get better results with honey than spite

The Brightest Mark of Ruin   She had warned him. Not with raised voice or trembling lip. The way a storm warns you: a change in pressure, a stillness that precedes something absolute. She had looked at him with those eyes that always saw further into him than was comfortable and said, quietly, with the patience of someone who has never needed to repeat Herself: "Your body is mine. Your word is mine. Everything you signed your name to belongs to me now. Cross me unforgivably and I will not punish you. I won't need to. You will lose everything we have built, and it will be like poison in your veins." He had meant it the way weak men mean everything: completely, warmly, right up until the moment it cost him something. There was a contract. A real document, negotiated with Her characteristic precision, each clause a brick in something She was genuinely building. He had signed it with both hands steady and the particular glow of a man who has just been given more than he deserves. The ink was barely dry before he started deciding which parts applied to him. The protocols She had built as architecture, the daily rituals that kept him tethered and honest, he let them erode with the indifference of someone who has confused being trusted with being unsupervised. Then he put his hands on someone else. Not a stumble. A decision, made repeatedly, to take what belonged to their bond and spend it somewhere cheaper. He came home from it and looked Her in the eye and said nothing, and that silence was its own act of violence. When She found out, She came to him without hysteria, without tears, with complete and devastating composure. She asked him once for the truth. What he did next cannot be softened. He became physical, used his body the way cowards do, and drove Her from the home and safety that had been Hers. She left not because She was weak but because She has never once in Her life tolerated the intolerable. She did not come back. She didn't need to. The community moved the way water moves around a stone. No tribunal, no dramatic exile. People simply became unavailable. Conversations ended when he entered them. The doors didn't slam. They simply stopped opening. And She had not campaigned, had not made calls, because women of genuine authority do not need to destroy you manually. They tell the truth once, to the people who matter, and the truth does the rest. He still tries. He appears at the edges of gatherings with the careful posture of someone who has rehearsed his normalcy, performing the shape of a man who has grown and arrived humbly at the gates of a second chance. Every experienced Domme in the room clocks it within minutes. The hollowness. The grasping. The unmistakable vibration of a man whose submission is a strategy rather than a truth. They decline, one after another, sometimes without a word, sometimes with a look that says they know exactly what they are looking at. This is Her work, and She isn't even trying. The contract still exists. She has it. Every line he failed, every clause he desecrated, every promise subsequently dismantled brick by brick. It is not a document anymore. It is an accounting, and it will follow him into every room he tries to enter, every connection he tries to build, every carefully managed first impression, until he has repaid what he owes in full. Everything must be returned to Her as was originally decreed for the poison to ebb. To the world he dirtied by what he did to Her, to the fidelity he shattered, the safety he violated, the home he poisoned : These things do not expire. They accrue interest. She is woven into the world he still wants access to. Her judgment lives in it. He cannot go anywhere She has not already been, cannot reach anyone She does not already know. She is not a chapter; She is the book, and he is a footnote in a hand everyone can see was shaking. She is not thinking of him. That is precisely the point. He is living inside the shape of Her absence, and it fits him like the life sentence it is.

For those who ask me this is the sort of Domination I enjoy and practice.  from www.cyberbazzar.com waay back in the day! The Equalitarian Dom: Is one who controls by teaching, mentoring, and leading. This Dominant knows that when he finds a comparable submissive that things will happen as a natural progression of the interaction. Usually just a short learning phase is required to receive the correct response from the submissive. Both the Dom and the sub “get it”, there is very little need for so called “training” and they naturally know what the other needs and seeks. The Dominant does not like the situation of constantly repeating and forcing a particular behavior (submission) to occur. Besides the activities (sexual and others) it is the surrender as a result of the Domination that is the enjoyment. Creativity is an important part of this situation. They tend to intellectualize and be more into the philosophical and psychological mechanisms of this life style. They understand the concepts and resultant interactions and can put it into real life. They do not need many rules like the Democratic type, nor do they like the heavy S&M activities of the Authoritarian, preferring submission to occur as a result of an instilled desire in the submissive to surrender. She “wants” to submit as a result of the Dominant’s knowledge and skill in dominating her. Sensuousness is the rule. Pain is given and received as a form of sensuous stimulation. Light pain as opposed to severe. Sensuous torture is a popular activity in this area. Both the Dominant and the submissive must naturally be this way. These are the people who will claim to be “born that way”. They fully understand the concept of D/s, it comes to them naturally and easily. They attract a submissive that truly and naturally desires to please and who will observe and sense what it is that the Dominant is communicating; and be able to translate that into the right thing to do. The “doing or saying without having to be told” type. The submissive begs easily and surrenders sweetly. They understand the concept of respect and surrender and can make it happen after initial learning with little or no additional instructions. They embrace the surrender gratefully and lovingly.   These individuals usually form very intimate relationships. There is not much downside to these relationships, because they not only gr the concepts, but can make it happen as well, and their attraction is based on a strong mutual respect. Their strong relationship is not readily apparent to the unobservant, but they are always subtly in the 24/7 mode. The fact that these things come forth naturally and without the need for orders is a great source of pride, satisfaction, and loving. They are the opposite side of the coin from the Authoritarian. Whose pride, satisfaction, and love come from strictness and forbearance.

This is a somewhat tongue-in-cheek, somewhat serious exploration of how to get to know someone via collarspace.com. Or, I guess to put it honestly, how to get to know me. Step 1. Read the fucking profile. My profile is not short, but it’s not War and Peace. It has important content in it that will help you know whether we are compatible or not and save your time AND mine. When you see a photo of someone you are attracted to, a compliment is a lovely thing. But if you honestly want to start a relationship or dynamic of some sort with them, read their profile before writing. It’s a form of respect, both self-respect (keep yourself from writing to people who are wildly incompatible with you) and respect for the other. Step 2. Don’t call me Mistress. I don’t like unearned titles, and if you MUST address me by a title, Ms. is enough. Don’t call me Miss, don’t call me Goddess, don’t use one of a hundred other unearned titles. If the time comes when addressing me by a title is appropriate to our relationship, you will know and we will discuss the appropriate title at that time. Until then, you may call me Elorin or Ms. Elorin. Step 3. Three sentence minimum. This is my 95% rule for responding to a letter on collarspace. A rare exception comes in where I respond to an initial email with fewer than three sentences, but for the most part, that’s the rule. If you feel like writing three sentences is too much to ask from someone with no relationship with you so far, that’s fine. You can choose not to write or you can write less and I’ll just delete your message when I read it. And if you send a long, run-on sentence with no punctuation and capitalization, I’ll treat it as one sentence and delete, even if it should have been three sentences. This is a personal value of mine, and it’s important to me that my partners are literate and able to write and express themselves. I realize that some people don’t do well with writing, or expressing themselves online, and I have made an exception in the past to meet people in person and give them a chance to express themselves in person, but that is rare and again, 95% of the time, if you can’t write and sustain emails with me for a short amount of time, you won’t be compatible with me in person. Step 4. Don’t immediately ask to go to another media. I’m on Collarspace, you’re on Collarspace, write to me on Collarspace. If things go well, there will be time to provide my FetLife ID, or my Telegram ID. For the record, I don’t have an Instagram, Kik, or Twitter account, I don’t use Skype anymore, and I have no idea how to use TikTok to chat. If you want to talk on instant messenger, I use Telegram. And I won’t move to an instant messenger program until I’ve talked with you long enough to feel like it’s worth my time. Step 5. Volunteer information. Look at my profile. Look at your profile. If your profile is essentially empty, or is turned off, and basically provides zero information for me to learn about you before replying to your first message, provide some information about yourself when you write. Please note: a first email should be one or two moderately long paragraphs. If you write me a book in your first email, I may or may not read it but I won’t respond to it until I have time to dedicate to it, whereas a shorter email may get a response sooner. However, still, three sentence minimum. A good first message starts with a little bit about yourself, what you liked about my profile, and what you’re looking for – getting to know me, playing with me, becoming my full time submissive, something else entirely. Step 6. Ask questions. While my profile is long, there is plenty of information I did not provide. Ask me a question about something you’d like to know more about me. However, if you read the first two paragraphs of my profile and ask me something that you would know if you’d read the whole thing, I’ll probably delete your email. Fair warning. Step 7. Share your answer Either when you are initially asking the question or after I have replied with my answer, share your answer to the questions you ask! This prevents me from having to say “I like XYZ, what do you like?” and makes the getting to know you process go much faster. Step 8. Volunteer more information Whether answering a question of my own, or as in step 7, providing your answer to a question you asked me, volunteer information. There ARE yes or no questions, but there are very few questions where you can’t provide at least a little context with your answer. When you reply to questions with one word answers, you force me to try to ask follow up questions to figure out what the context is. This translates in my mind to how you would be during negotiations in BDSM. I spent years in my first marriage “pulling teeth” from a compulsive liar and control freak, trying to find out what the actual situation was and learn what was going on in our life. I refuse to do it again, and if I find myself having to “pull teeth” to get information from you because you are giving one word answers, I’ll just write you off and move on to someone who is more interested in actively getting to know me. Step 9. Do NOT send me unsolicited fantasies. It’s one thing (and an ok thing) to say, “I’ve always wanted to have a crop scene.” It’s another thing to write 5 long paragraphs about your ideal crop scene when I haven’t indicated any kind of interest or desire in knowing. Unsolicited fantasies are an automatic block. Step 10. Do NOT ask me “If I were there what would you do to me/what would we do/what would it be like” questions. I’ll shut you down and refuse to answer, and possibly block you. These are basically a request for free fap fodder and I’m not in the business of providing it, even if the honest answer would most likely not be enough to masturbate to. NOTE: If we’ve been writing for a while and you are planning to visit me/meet me and you ask me what to expect, that’s different and won’t get you blocked. I don’t expect anyone to read this entire thing, but if you do, mention the instant messenger program I use with the word snowflake and you’ll get bonus points in our exchanges. Ms. Elorin

I had some lovely intro messages today, was nice to be introduced to the civil side of this site. I did notice in the wave of change one message that is still behind the times. Instead of introducing, or building rapport they offered a time stamped plan which included several hours of satisfying their one-sided fantasy. The itemised itinerary marked 4pm you do this to me 5pm you do this to me 8pm you do this to me. I do 6 hrs of unpaid overtime a week to help members of the public and now you want me in my 1 day off on my weekend to spend hours milking your fantasy.  In the great words of Elton John will you F-off.   C  

I bring it on myself, I know. I am a perfectionist overachiever and I do too much. Earlier I was taking a break watching tv, and a song came on. I don't even remember the song now, but I burst into tears for a good few minutes for no reason at all. Other than I have created a monster of a deadline that I am spending way too much time working on. No balance. But we knew this.  The other day I had a conversation with someone about pacifiers. Not just the what, but the why, and the stigma and labels, and how none of that matters. I bought two, they're purple. After a run through the dishwasher I tried one out the other day. I don't know that I feel anything, but I also don't know what it is I'm supposed to feel or if it has to be used in conjunction with a particular activity, like coloring. Which I hadn't done in that moment. Or this one. I kind of feel like Maggie Simpson. What I don't feel like is an infant, and I'm glad of that. Guess I'll continue my experiment another day when I can do more things with less stress. I'm still calling this progress in breaking down barriers. Oh, and I bought bubbles. Looking forward to a day when it's not a million degrees outside. 

The ritual for asking to speak I get questions from slaves frequently. Many slaves seem to think it is a slave's entitlement to ask questions of a Master at any time in any fashion. This is a false assumption to make with Me. Below is the ritual a slave must follow if it desires to speak when in My presence. A slave that wishes to ask Me a question on line should at least observe the ritual as best it can. The ritual for asking a question (or being allowed to speak for that matter) of Me when it is My presence is to kneel and put its lips and tongue to use on My shoes. Then while it kisses and licks, it waits for Me to acknowledge it. This may take a while as what ever I am engaged in is more important than the slave's request for recognition. Should I tire of its presence I may dismiss it with a word or a, maybe not so gentle, kick to the side of the face. The slave must wait at least 15 minutes before attempting to get My attention again. its question must have some value to what I care about, or, the slave will be punished. If slave should intrude on My time on line to ask a question that is answered in the writings it can find herein it risks being blocked.

I'm updating my profile here since this site seems to make regular updates problematic.    First, if you're blatantly racist, transphobic, or incapable of recognizing your own privilege, there's no point in reading further.   Second, I'm polyamorous and have other partners in an open relationship. If you're looking for monogamy, you're looking in the wrong place. You have to be able to get along with them, and I won't put up with jealous behavior.   Third, I'm looking for someone who's willing to cook and clean, as well as be available sexually whenever I choose. I'm not looking for hookups or one-offs.   Fourth, you will have to contribute to the household; either through outside work or in some other way. I'm not a sugar Daddy.   Fifth, I have ADHD, and I often lose track of time. If we have been corresponding and suddenly you aren't hearing from me, don't take it personally. Just touch bases with me, and as soon as I'm able to focus, I'll reply.    Sixth, you will need to authenticate that you are who you say by live cam. Text and pics are nice, but they often don't represent reality.   If you have any questions, just ask.

I am not on your schedule! You would be lucky to be on mine, period! If you send me a message, I will reply on my own time and accord. If you are so impatient that you will delete the msgs sent to me, please keep that same energy!  If there are so many options out there, that you squander an opportunity with me then know.... I don't give second chances!    I easily get anywhere from 20-30 msgs daily, which makes it easy for me to get inundated or have lost msgs. So be patient, and possibly send a reminder to bump your msg or you can find me in chat and ask to speak with me there.      

Growing out of touchWith myself -This is me;trying to stay afloatand trying to stayon this boat and clingto a motivational quoteand a big fat jolly emote.Trying to put on my sugar coat andKeep this sicknote in mytote, as i deepthroatAnother dose of thisworld's useless antidote.But then this is mewhen You touch me;i sing notes in octave CAnd become a born again devoteto your lifeboat of keynotes,And i realize all along my scapegoatWas an incredible sinking u-boat.~ dirtydarling (8.27.23)

Hey, guys. Just so you know, this ain't my first rodeo. I was experimenting with S&M activities long before I was legal, or had actual sex. And so I call BULLSHIT on your "D/s is mainly mental" blah, blah, blah. A solid D/s relationship is a 3 legged stool of mind, body, and spirit. Each leg is equally important, and MUST be equally developed in order for there to be balance and harmony in the power exchange relationship. This is not optional, and you don't get to change the D/s laws of the universe just because you live 3000 miles away, or are trapped in a boring marriage. Mind. BODY. Spirit. For a masochist, one of these things MUST take place in person. So regular face to face meets are NOT optional. Smacking myself online while you watch does NOT count. And if you live more than 100 miles away, I'm not driving, or flying, to your place every week. It is what it is.

Maintenance.... If yall do not have an updated profile how do you expect Me to trust you?  Your age, location, etc would do well to be updated prior to contacting Me.  Collar updates regularly enough and if not an update within your profile you can certainly update your JOURNAL to proper information. If we set a time for speaking, meeting, doing and you don't show up and no reason given...what is the point?  For those of you who have My personal information, chivalry is not dead.  If you are not smart enough to figure out how to apologize, what is the point?  With that said, I am not in the habit of opening closed doors.  What is the point? Remember, VERIFICATION.  You don't get close to Me and My home without exposing yourself to Me.  BIGGER and Better! I would love a mechanic type of person from time to time.  I'm a vehicle enthusiast and have some knowledge but not nearly anything to brag about. I would love to rebuild an engine side by side as project.  Last year I sold My beautiful vintage truck.  Sigh. I DO so love MUSCLE cars though just about anything that comes acrosss on Mecum will do.  To have ones breath taken away by the pull of a powerful engine is mightily exciting.  The first car I ever drove was when I was knee high and it was a lovely Mercades.  Then onto the Jaguar...  My first car was a custom 500 with a suicide knob...and boy could that baby go! That was the car of My first speeding ticket!  I was crusing down Interstate 93 doing 120, when I moved My hand away from the side rear view mirror and to My chargrin there was a state trooper, hot on My tail, lights flashing (no siren) just keeping pace with Me.  I won't forget that troopers face for the rest of My life.  He didnt make eye contact and just said, "I have a ticket for you and you will need to pay it by this time or show up in court.  If you show up in court, I will tell the judge that you were doing WELL OVER 80 MILES PER HOUR and you will have your license taken away."  I paid the ticket and got a radar dectector.  lol Still, I have a relative hot spot for all things mechanical.  This brings Me to My love of steel...but THAT is another topic for another day!      

Since I seem to get the same questions over and over I will answer them here and save me and anyone asking time and effort: Q: Would you consider a male slave?/Do you ever play with a male sub? A: Not really. My style of BDSM is very sexual and since males doesn't attract me sexually I wouldn't enjoy a male slave. I might consider a male slave as part of a submissive couple, but then again he couldn't expect much sexual interaction between him and me. Q: Would you consider a CD/TV/Sissy as your slave? A: I might consider it if you are part of a couple where the other party is a sub female, or if you are very feminine, very young and very submissive. Q: Would you train my wife if I send her to you for a limited time and send me photos and films of you training and using her? A: Yes I would if you really send her AND if she is in on it. The problem with the couples and men asking for this is they disappear and erase their profile after 20 - 30 messages and sometimes the same number of mails. Most probably they were roleplaying and there was no wife OR she wasn't in on it and they din't dare to suggest it to her, or if they did she wouldn't play along. Q: Would you train me on-line?/Would you claim me as your on-line slave? A: Probably not. I used to say no way, but during the pandemic I did have a few sexual relationships with submissive girls in several countries using telephone and/or various chat apps. We shared our dirty fantasies, we shared orgasms and I had some of them do painful and perverse things on themselves on my command. Now when the pandemic seems to be over and IRL contact is possible again on-line relationships seems less attractive. I live the lifestyle IRL and even an on-line slave girl takes time and effort. It's not a definite no, but you would have to be very special and very devoted for me to consider an on-line slave.

Yes, I have been on this site for a bit. I am looking for the slave that is best to meet My desires. I am looking for long term and live in, when it happens. I do not expect instant match and move. I want any relocation to be permanent and good for both of Us. I hope you have watched the show Big Bang Theory. Living with Me is similar to living with the Sheldon character. At least in the aspect of I get what I want from a slave living with Me. If that isn't you then we will not work well together. I am open to one offs and play dates and such. So feel free to reach out for that also.

My Fool, My Leash, My Afternoon - a Fantasy for a Future slave   The morning of the faire I lay his costume out on the bed with the particular satisfaction of a woman who has planned something she intends to enjoy thoroughly. The motley is excellent, deep jewel tones, the bells on the collar catching the light, the cut of it deliberately absurd in the way that only works on a man with genuine physical presence. Foolishness on an unimpressive man reads as foolishness. Foolishness on a man like him reads as theater, as choice, as the most interesting thing in any room he enters. He understands this. He puts it on without comment, with the quiet dignity he brings to everything I ask of him, which is itself part of what makes it so delicious. The leash attaches to his collar with a sound I find unreasonably satisfying. I am wearing the corset, deep burgundy with black lacing, the kind of construction that does what good corsetry always does: makes the architecture of a woman into an argument that cannot be refuted. My skirts are full, my shoulders bare, and I carry myself the way I carry myself everywhere, which is to say as though the ground has been expecting me specifically. We make, I think, an extraordinary pair. The Goddess and her Fool. The implicit story of us readable to anyone with eyes and the wit to use them. He walks two steps behind me and slightly to my left, the leash held loosely in my right hand, and I feel the particular pleasure of his presence the way you feel good weather: as a condition of the atmosphere, something that improves everything around it simply by existing. The faire opens around us in all its chaotic, fragrant, anachronistic glory and I move through it with the unhurried ease of a woman who has nowhere to be except exactly here. It is the stocks that I have been thinking about since I planned this outing. They are positioned in the center of the square, heavy oak weathered to silver, historically accurate in their construction and entirely available for use by willing participants. I steer us toward them with the gentle but unambiguous redirection of the leash, and he feels the change in direction and does not ask where we are going. He has learned not to ask where we are going. "In you go," I say pleasantly, nodding to the attendant, who opens the upper board with the cheerful efficiency of someone who has done this many times and finds it no less entertaining for the repetition. He folds himself into position. The board comes down. His wrists and neck are held, his posture suddenly and completely at the mercy of the construction, and I step around to face him with my hands clasped lightly in front of me and look at him with the full and unhurried attention I reserve for things I am enjoying very much. He looks up at me from his locked position with that expression. The one I have catalogued. The one that contains too many things to name. I lean down until we are level, my face close to his, close enough that the bells on his collar would brush my cheek if either of us moved. Around us the faire continues its noise and color, children running, merchants calling, the distant sound of a lute being played with more enthusiasm than skill. No one stops. Several people look. Some smile. I do not acknowledge any of them. "Comfortable?" I ask. "No, Goddess." "Good." I straighten and produce from the small bag at my wrist a piece of the honeyed pastry I purchased at the last stall, and I eat it slowly, with evident pleasure, directly in front of him. He watches. The bells are very still. "You look," I say thoughtfully, tilting my head, "exactly right." A small crowd has gathered at a comfortable distance, the way people gather around anything that has the quality of performance, and I am aware of them the way I am aware of weather, peripherally, without concern. I reach out and adjust the bells on his collar with one finger, a gesture so proprietary and so casual that I hear the quality of his exhale change completely. "We will stay here," I inform him, "until I finish my pastry and decide I want to see the falconers. Which gives you approximately," I pause, taking another unhurried bite, "as long as it takes me to eat this." He says nothing. His eyes do not leave my face. The afternoon light falls across the faire in long gold bars and my corset is exactly right and my fool is exactly where I put him and I am, in this moment, precisely as content as a woman who has arranged her Saturday exactly to her specifications has every right to be. I take a very small bite.   I am in no hurry at all.

Communicating with Me.   Prospective slave property may want to go out of their way to show respect for Me as its potential Owner. So, how to show respect?   Here are a some guidelines: In each and every sentence addressed to Me slave should include the honorariums Sir, Master or both. Capitalization as demonstrated in this message should be observed, while, using lower case for any reference to it. To ask Me a question is allowed only with My permission. Since we are not face to face, it may beg permission from Me to be permitted to ask a question. No matter My response, it should always expressed gratitude taking My time begging for permission. There is a ritual for a slave to observe regarding getting permission to ask a question when in My presence. Gratitude is essential in growing proper mind set in a slave. it should never miss an opportunity to express gratitude. Flattering Me is encouraged. Repetition of the same flattering phrases is not. It must read all of My writings.  It should expect to travel to Me for inspection.   Until it have been inspected and taken to training, it has free choice, without recrimination, to observe the foregoing guidelines, or not. Without recriminations means its lack of following the guide lines will not keep it from having a successful inspection and entering the trial period.

I saw this today in someone's journal and I decided to write about it as my interpretation of what Protect the Property means.  To me, protecting the property is part of the protocols I have adopted as my own.  To my submissive, it means protecting yourself. You are charged with making sure you are healthy by taking care of yourself, eating correctly, drinking enough water, etc.  Ensuring I am well taken care of to the best of his ability.  To me, it means the same for myself, and it means I am to ensure my submissive is well cared for.  To both of us, care for the relationship. Water the garden of the relationship, and help it grow together. If the relationship is not cared for, it will not succeed and this is done by both of us. 

We now have our male slave we have completed training him so we now have the time to find one more female slave. We are considering have some part time subs all genders welcome to apply. For the part time position reply and answer the following questions   1. What day(s) can you you serve?   2. Are you local to the DFW area? If not can you reguarly make the trip to serve us?   3. What skills could you bring to us for service?   4. What are your kinks? Masocists to the front of the line.   5. What are you expecting out of this? Since this is a part time mainly playtime arrangement do not be afraid to tell us what you hope to get out of it.        We wiil not have any type of sexual contact with part time subs sorry but we have two slaves and since they serve 24/7 that is the one advantage they have over part time subs.   We are not looking to micro manage a part time subs life away from our house. However, part time subs will be required to follow house rules during visits and will not be treated differently than slaves in this regard.    We do expect part time subs to be present when they say they will be here. Life happens so yes sometimes you may have to cancel but if it becomes a reguar thing you will be released.        We will begin the part time sessions in January but you should begin to apply now.   

Where do pirates get their hooks? A second hand store.    Thank you for taking the time to read my profile. I’m looking for someone who naturally has a happy personality and only wants to make others around them happy also. She needs to be drug and tobacco free with only an occasional drink.  What do you call cheese that’s not yours?  Nacho cheese.    I would like to find that type of feeling like when we were in high school and we have that super crush on each other. I do everything to avoid conflict. I don’t argue or fight, if you want a masochist I’m not for you. Trust and respectful communication are important. I am not a social bug so my friend circle is small.  I have 2 kittens but love most pets. I’m not looking for perfection I’m looking for happiness and someone who has the suction of a shop vac. 

I slept most of the time since yesterday evening, Shabbat has that effect on me. checking messages in bed, listening to music, crying. The phone and the door (both for his mother) woke me twice. The bible reading today, when I was finally up, is what made me decide to go back and take a snippet of what WAS going to be in my profile, but I cut out, from 24 hours ago. How long 24hours can be! May I say, for those who are cruel to me, please realize this little flat was my home for 5 years. Then I went to the farm and came back to what is MY HOME. Yes, I know, it was Els' flat and not mine, but my little soul had made roots here. It has been my little safe haven from the storms of life. I could come in here and cry or laugh and be with myself these last 14 months. Now I am leaving and everything that has been in this flat since 1992 is going to go. He lived here all his adult life. I feel the Throne and the Kingdom and the King are gone. I am watching them all dissolve in a  very short period of time. G-D IN HIS GRACE knew that my 365 day bible today would be 1 KINGS 1. I have not read the bible as an adult. I did not have ears to hear or a heart to understand.  IT WAS ALL ABOUT THE ANNOINTED choice of G-d for the next KING. What is so strange is many shift between secular/vanilla and BDSM without understanding that they are doing it. YES, the Man who was in all aspaspects my Dom for 9 years has died. But I am not a vanilla girl. I am a slave...and that means I am King-less. I am Kingdom-less, I am Authority-less. This is all fine and dandy for a secular modern woman who hates Male Authority over her. It is soul destroying for me. Thank you all who, upon hearing that I was dramatically changing my situation to home-less and wished me all the best, I now know you. Thank you for making me realize you have NO IDEA what it means for a slave to be without a Master. I know El' was not always a good King. BUT for whatever reason, this little slave was his until he was no more.(he saw me as a subbie and was encouraging me to meet someone else and I tried, I really did.) I have one more week of Shloshim and with G-ds grace will find some comfort in sitting in the park drinking a hot beverage from a flask with a perfect stranger who is G-d fearing and has just phoned to invite me to do so in the days coming, weather permitting.(he is not from CS. He spoke to me in the street a few days ago).I am lonely. I sit alone in the park and have done so for 14 months. Watching the birds, crocheting, feeling the breeze, is one of my joys. But when Els' mum said yesterday that I needed to move out ASAP, it really hit me like a ton of bricks. It took a nights sleep to understand. The King is dead, the Kingdom is no more, his Throne is empty. my sarcastic little profile that I did not post yesterday I had a radical change on the 5th of June 2026 and I am no longer what is considered 'viable' for a Dom to inspect and find suitable, because I am not in a 'stable' situation where he can take his time to inspect his prospective little creature or offer him the length of time he needs to do so...this is dipped deep in sarcasm for those who don't understand. I am guessing me behind a computer in one spot is the only ideal rather than me being on the move. I would agree in the days of a landline  but we now have the internet. At least I learnt something about some of the folks I was talking too. IF you did not say 'hey, you are on the move, but please, I am very interested in you and please let us keep talking, no matter where you are going, even if it is Timbuktoo...I want to know you, and hope to have you at my feet one day and I will make it happen. Then it was clear that I had no effect on you other than 'she is flaky, I do not need her issues washing over into my neat life' and I wish her all the best. Yes, my life sounds hectic. I would not been on CS if I was a happy little slave with a King. I left CS  last year when El' said he had a tumour. I rushed back to him. Now he is gone and somehow  ow I am the 'flaky' and crazy one? HE WAS NOT perfect, I know. He did not understand me, I know. He was never looking for a slave, just a subbie. (we met on here) He bit of more than he could chew with me, I know. BUT when the crunch came, I came back to him. You want the happy slave. I get it and wish you all the best too going forward. It did clean up my dance card dramatically. Thank you. Anyway, I only want ONE KING. Let TIME tell who is the bolt to my nut.