I was in Dallas so I contacted this bitch man I met on Collarspace. He was happy to come to my hotel, buy me dinner and a beer and go up to my room for a good facefucking. He was big, fat and out of shape, as I ate I asked him questions, and was timid and respectful and always good to call me Sir. I learned about his lack of sex life and what led him to want to suck cock so bad he would met a stranger and submit. He was smart and articulate but, as most unaware of why they want this. His nipples jutted through his shirt as we talked. I let him know his bitch tits would suffer soon. He was excited to know. As we went up to my room I made him stand with his nose in the corner of the elevator. It was going to be a fun night.    

    Desire fires: a machine gun Turning love to hate. You could never Be my mate... Tears fall, heart aches. i poison myself Day after day till  Pneumonia hits In ways You never did. Grief buries feeling, As i cleanse, Breath by breath, Coughing sadness Till life deceives, yet i defy death And hate, For God knows As i let go In prayer, love feeds What love makes.   6/14/24    

Master's WritingsFoundations: The Ethics of SadismThe ethics surrounding sadomasochistic play are perhaps among the most important in all of the BDSM community. I constantly see posts from masochists searching for a "Real Sadist", someone who knows what they are doing and they can trust. And why shouldn’t they, in this realm, we are often talking about genuine pain and the potential for real harm. Yet I continue to see those who call themself by the title, who operate without a code and believe that sadism is nothing more than a license to hurt another person. Thus, the need for a code and identify the ethics behind the title.Up-front, any attempt to identify ethics must include basic standards such as:     Both parties being of minimum legal age     Both parties being competent to legally consent     All physical and mental health considerations of both parties have been made known     The nature, depth and limits on the activities have been previously agreed to by both parties     Consent of the bottom has been given to the activities discussed without any form of duress, coercion, manipulation or barter     and finally, that safewords or some form of safeguard communication is in place that stop or pause play as necessary Beyond the basics, however, I believe that the ethics of sadism must go beyond that. It must include a dedication to perfecting one's skills and knowledge of the craft long before you ever raise a cane, a commitment to know your bottom to a depth beyond normal play so that you possess a clear understanding of what they want and why they want it and an absolute mandate that the Sadist never brings their outside emotions, such as anger or stress, into a scene (if you are made at the world, no bottom should pay for that). Additionally, it must also include a dedication to maintain a constant awareness of a bottom's capacities throughout any scene.But the real point of the ethics of Sadism lies in the commitment to maintaining all of these beliefs and values during the heart of a scene. It is easy to be ethical before a scene begins, but as the tempo rises, as the pain threshold lies within reach, being ethically strong enough to not get carried away in the thrill and glory of the moment is an ever present challenge. It is there, in that moment when a Sadist must lean into their ethics and remember their responsibility for a bottom's safety, the commitments you made about the scope play, and the dedication to not get sloppy with either technique or intention. In the heat of the moment, you walk the fine line between pleasure and pain, ecstasy and injury, but responsibility requires a strong ethical core to keep your bottom safe and deliver wisely on the gift of the experience you deliver.For me it is the connection I make during play, either physical, as in touch, or verbal, as in checkups, communication and listening. Connection helps remind me my bottom is a person. A person who has placed their body and experiences in my hands. It humbles me and reminds me that without ethics, I am no better than a monster with a whip. It is the ethics of Sadism that keeps me human and allows me to call myself a sadist with a clear conscience. 

Here are a few things that I should have added to my profile but didn't and I don't wanna wait forever for it to be approved again. 1. Do not message me if you are not in my state, it clearly says in my profile I am looking for a Dom in or around my area. This means in North Carolina only (maybe as far as SC but I am not willing to travel). 2. Do not contact me if you are a sub or slave male asking me if I want to own you and you be my so called puppy. I am NOT into pet play and I have a real life dog that is already challenging enough, I don't need a human wannabe dog. I am also NOT a Domme, my name clearly says that I am sub and my profile clearly points that out.  3. No I will not do online with you, my life is very busy as is and sending me a message that says "when are you available" as your first one as well as you having no profile except that you wanna be please orally then yeah you're not getting a response from me.  4. If you think that all subs should be sexual to be in a dynamic move on, I know plenty who are in nonsexual D/s dynamics and they have been going strong for years.  5. Do not tell me that you want to mentor me yet want to play with me. A mentor never plays with who they are mentoring, the person being mentored is looking to that person for advice. If you think differently then don't bother contacting me.  6. Yes I am married, yes he knows I am in the lifestyle and yes he does approve. I have written this in my profile but it seems like it goes ignored. Just because I am married is not the only reason why I am nonsexual, I have other reasons as well.  7. Please stop asking if I have kids. Just because I'm married doesn't mean I do and the answer is no I do not and never want them. If your first message to me is "what's your availability" and you have a virtually blank profile then you will more than likely be ignored.

A Masochist's Dream   She does not speak at first. She doesn't need to. The silence is the command.   I'm already trembling before the first touch, but it’s not fear — it's worship.   Her fingers are the storm before the pain, tracing the outlines of where I will break, where I want to break, where I need to break… just to be remade again beneath her will.   The first strike is a kiss I’ve waited my whole life for. It lands not only on skin, but on soul — and I open to it, gasping, grateful.   Every mark she leaves is a word written in a language only we speak: a dialect of fire and obedience. My moans are not protest — they’re prayers. My tears are not weakness — they’re offerings.   And when she stops — when her breath slows, when her eyes soften but her grip stays firm — I lie there undone, not broken… but finally whole.   Because in the ache, I feel seen. In the bruises, I feel known. And in the surrender, I am free.

  In the Shadows, We Ask Permission: The Sacred Art of Consent By T.L. Duncan (BDSM • Trust • Power Exchange • Consent Education) There is nothing more erotic than choice. In the world of dominance and submission, consent is not a rule of caution — it is the foundation of every breath, every touch, every whispered command. It transforms restraint into trust and obedience into art. Without it, there is only imbalance. With it, there is freedom — an unshakable connection between two souls exploring the boundaries of pleasure and power. The Sacred Power of “Yes” To outsiders, consent might seem like a technicality — a signature before the story begins. But to those who live inside the dynamic, it is everything. Consent is not a one-time agreement; it is a living dialogue. It evolves with mood, comfort, and connection. It is the heartbeat beneath every scene, the signal that both partners are seen, safe, and heard. True surrender is never taken — it is given. A submissive’s trust is a deliberate act of bravery, and a Dominant’s control is a sacred vow to protect it. Negotiation Is Foreplay Before the rope tightens or the candle wax drips, there is conversation. Real, honest, unhurried conversation. Limits are not barriers; they are maps that guide the journey. Soft limits whisper “ask again later.” Hard limits declare “never.” Both are equally powerful and worthy of respect. Negotiation is not unsexy — it is foreplay. It is the spark before the strike, the moment where desire meets understanding. It is a love letter written in the language of respect. Safe Words and Aftercare: The Unseen Bonds A safe word is not weakness. It is trust made tangible — a promise that when one voice says stop, the other listens without hesitation. And aftercare — that slow descent from intensity to softness — is where the truest connection resides. It is not the end of the scene; it is the beginning of reflection. A blanket. A glass of water. A whispered thank-you. That’s where the human heart beats beneath the power play. The Takeaway Consent is not the absence of no — it is the presence of yes. It is the foundation that allows the world of BDSM to be daring, intimate, and profoundly safe. To play with power, you must first respect it. To claim control, you must first ask for it. And to love within this world — truly love — you must listen. About T.L. Duncan T.L. Duncan is a gothic romance author exploring the intersections of power, desire, and emotional truth. Her works weave together sensuality and storytelling, revealing the beauty of trust, surrender, and human connection. Discover more on www.tlduncan.com.

  The pool party was in Royal OUak,  a very nice suburb of Houston.  I was admiring all the large homes with long driveways and manicured lawns.  When I arrived at the house, I pulled into the driveway and parked behind a Tesla.  I checked my face in the mirror and got out of my car.  I wore a black string bikini under a black cover up with a pair of wedges and some sunglasses.   I could hear voices, music and splashing on the other side of the privacy fence.  I opened the door and I looked around.  From my left was the back of the house that had a covered patio.  The large yard surrounded a big pool with lounge chairs and tables with umbrellas.  To the right was a tiki bar.  I headed there.   Heather called out to me , "Hey! I'm glad you made it.  Why don't you get a cocktail and chill? Bartender?  Give her whatever she wants." I smiled and asked for a hurricane.  Coming right up, he said.  I looked around and saw people enjoying the day.  Most were in or near the pool.  There was mostly a mixture of 20 and 30 somethings.  A group of four were sitting at a table enjoying a blunt.  I headed there.   Me, smiling:  Can I try? "Sure gorgeous" a handsome guy said and handed it to me.  "Hey are you that new girl I heard about?"  Me, smiling:  "Maybe!" Heather, waving to get my attention:  "Come here I want to introduce you to someone.". She led me towards the house as Jim and another man were emerging from the back.   Jim, looking at the other man:  This is the one I told you about."  This is Renee, he provides the financing for my movies. " Renee, smiling at me:  It's nice to meet you.  I heard you have a nice set of abs. May I see them? I opened my cover up and showed off my body.  I flexed my abs and instinctively did a bicep pose.   Renee, still smiling:  You have a very nice body.  Any tattoos?" Me:  "No, I'm all natural.". I glanced at Heather, smiling.   Jim, to me:  "Enjoy the party.  We'll talk later." And the two men walk back inside the house.   Heather, to me:  "Let's go swimming." And we spent the rest of the afternoon just partying and enjoying the pool.  Throughout the day I met other people in the movie business.  There was a black female actress.  A Latino male actor said hello.  I met a lighting guy, a sound guy, some grips, gaffers, a set manager, a camera man and an editor.  I had no idea what some of them did until they explained it to me.  No wonder films are so expensive.  Next, The Pitch  

  PLEASE DO NOT SEND ONE LINE MESSAGES AND PLEASE READ THIS SHORTENED PROFILE BEFORE WRITING.  IT'S UNLIKELY THAT YOUR PROFILE WILL ADDRESS ALL THE ISSUES I MENTION HERE SO I MAY NOT WRITE TO YOU EVEN IF I LOOKED AT YOUR PROFILE EVEN IF WE MIGHT BE A GOOD FIT. IF YOU HAVE AN INTEREST OR THINK IT'S POSSIBLE WE COULD FIT IT WOULD BE A GOOD THOUGHT FOR YOU TO WRITE AND FIND OUT......  Because this site mangles punctuation and foreshortens some words I have tried to get around some of the issues as best I can. Please don't think we are illiterate and don't have good communications skills.  We suppose the best thing is to eliminate the majority of people on this site who don't fit with what we're seeking. That is not a judgement since not being right for us doesn't mean you're not right for many people here. We are seeking a slave or two who can be comfortable being owned by a fairly radically liberal Dominant man. We have cats and 2 Great Danes so pet allergies are a problem. We need to live with bdsm as the focus of our household so custodial children won't work. Even though  many people think I am younger than my years I am old and probably only going to be able to function as a Master for another 15 years or so. Once a family is established we will seek another dominant to be mentored and groomed to provide continuity for the family but there are no guarantees. Even so I still expect a one hundred percent buy in and c0mmitment. That literally means NOTHING held back, total honesty and devotion. Anyone afraid of hard work, total honesty or keeping a daily written journal won't work out long run.   I've been a live in slave owner most of my adult life but still have a lot to learn. If you need someone who has all the answers or can tell you exactly what you'll be doing in a year that's not me. My experience is each relationship is unique and takes on a life of it's own meaning as we each grow and evolve together our path will open up in front of us but neither of us can know exactly where it leads until we're on it.   We are a sadistic male dominant Master and his masochistic but highly service oriented slave. We work hard at living bdsm full time and still have active careers and time for the vanilla world.  We are very liberal, open minded, caring and dedicated to our way of life. Master is experienced and even skilled with over 50 years in bdsm communities and having owned live in slaves for most of that time. He is not judgemental and can probably address most any fetish or bdsm need you may have if he beleives you are capable of dealing with the outcome of living it as part of your way of life.We seek open, honest, drama free and not jealous slaves to join us in creating a caring small bdsm poly family. We don't tolerate bigotry of any kind. The mantra of ALL OF US BEING ON THE SAME TEAM might explain a lot. We require an extraordinary amount of c0mmitment, complete honesty and devotion. The ability to trust and share everything going on for you is critical.Together as a family I expect us all to work for common goals, be supportive of one another, always be excited and willing to explore further everything in bdsm. Adventuresome and self aware of your need to serve and live bdsm would be good. I am flexible and will consider slaves of any  legal age or gender or situation as in couples, singles or even an existent poly family because everyone has something to offer that could be useful to this poly family at each stage in their lives. But do keep in mind I ask for and expect a lot from slaves, That means literally 100 percent from you whatever that turns out to be.  We believe we offer a lot in return and if we connect this is an extraordinary opportunity for you and us. Please write if you feel an interest. We hate to waste your and our time if you cant envision an older owner or being expected to stay in slave space mindset almost all the time. There is a lot that we havent said here but again in the interest of not wasting your time I will stop and have more to share if you have an interest. We always answer questions as honestly as possible, feel free to ask anything.

For the record, if I haven't said it before, I, myself, am NOT turned on by anyone in pink frilly birthday cake dresses.   If you google "pink lolita dress" images and are wearing anything like any one of those pink ruffled outfits, understand that it actively turns me OFF.  They look like toddler's fancy dreses. As I am not a pedophile, I am not attracted to toddlers.  I am, in fact, kind of repulsed by the idea of ANYONE being attracted to a toddler, and the entire thought process just squicks me out. So, no, not gonna ever wanna dress anyone up in a frilly pink dress like that. Now, if you make it black, with lace, and black fishnets, and don't make the skirt look like some nightmare square dance cloud of tulle, then, perhaps.  If it's properly paired with well done black eyeliner, etc. If you MUST have frills and ruffles, make it a fluffy bustle with a black velvet corset and a black lace shrug that ends in a finger loop Google "sexy goth dress" and wear that.  That is sexy. That is not 'three year old girl' stuff  Be a cat to catch a cat lover Be a goth to catch a goth dancer Be both to catch me Or maybe cosplay Thomas Brown Hewitt in the half mask, but that's a different conversation.  

Oh friends. What I'm about to describe may change our relationship, but it 100% happened just now and I'm not sharing this story with anyone else.  My puppy woke me a short time ago to go outside. Glancing at the clock and seeing it was 4:30, I didn't do any of the things I would normally do before taking her outside. Her waking me means we need to go now. Yes ma'am, let's go. We get outside and she decides that dandelions are interesting and this patch of grass tastes divine, and so on, as she does sometimes leading up to her business. She has a flare for the dramatic, like her momma. Meanwhile, I've had to pee since the moment she woke me. All the way down what felt like ten thousand stairs, through every moment of her moseying outside, I. Have. To. Pee. And I'm not going to make it back to the house.  Chances are if you're reading this you are genetically male (is that the correct term?) and so you would just pull up a patch of grass and unzip. Not having that luxury I faced my two options. Either I could wet my pants, or I could squat and tinkle. Friends, I really tried to use all of those downstairs muscles to make it back to the house. Truly I did. But it wasn't going to happen and I did laundry earlier today. So I did the unthinkable. I moved to a spot less lit. I slid my pajama pants down a bit. I squatted. And I peed. I'm sure someone's door camera caught it, or maybe someone out for a walk. Hopefully it was just me and my puppy. And now you. It's our secret, okay? 

I Wonder Who We Are... I often look at myself thru the eyes of my mind. Who do I **think** I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? I wonder how many others take the time to self-reflect like this? I try to do this weekly.  Sometimes late at night as I bask in the quiet night’s arms I find my mind drifting to the day gone by. I replay the days events and scrutinize my actions at times.  TODAY, did I live my life to my best potential? The gift of life I was given is a treasure that we so often under value. It's easy to get caught up in the daily struggles that inflict us as we sometimes dredge thru the day thankful it's over.  Guilty! After all we are all human.  In a world filled with hate, selfishness, struggles and woes sometimes its all we can do not to scream. Allow a blood curling sound to exit our lungs, travel up our throats picking up momentum as it exits our lips with a shiver echoing thru the darkness to find no respite.  A primal sound that perhaps evolved from our primal ancestors to never develop or change in the millions of years gone by. Signaling our frustrations and every other imaginable negative energy that exists within us today. As we yearn to release it all allowing them to somehow be absorbed into the cosmos, never to return. A cry for help perhaps? Perhaps.  Perhaps it's just an evacuation of all that we resent exiting us hoping we can fill the vacancy with the positive. I like to think that's the case with me. But as I look around each day, looking for positive energy, from my fellow man I am left starving. Wanting to see more beauty I can absorb to act as my muse. Guiding me to be a better me as it motivates me to want to feed love back into the world.  But alas, it has become a daunting task. Disappointment abounds the empty caverns of my heart and mind. Have we become so shallow as a society that the only thing that now defines us is instant and momentary self gratification? Often at the expense of others. Is this what thousands of centuries of evolution has led us to? NAY I say! Not I today! Unable to find it readily at the hand of my two legged peers I turn to nature. I find myself being blindly led to the pasture where my four legged friends reside. I hear their whinnies as they see me approaching. Running towards me anxious to see me. Besides me walks my fury four legged best friend. My canine soul mate who has dedicated his life to unselfishly and unconditionally love me. To never leave me no matter what I do or how I treat him. He is bound for life to me. Arriving closer to the gate a thunderous echo of stampeding hooves envelopes the air. Filling my ears with its roar as it approaches closer. Standing on the lush green carpet of grass I am surrounded by these four legged majestic creatures that so easily could do me harm. My smaller companion eyeing them carefully under his protective gaze.  Wet nuzzles against my hands searching for treats. This action is common place here. All fighting for my attention as there are so many and I am only but one. The creative one among the group, finding no need to challenge the rest for the position of my hands. He quietly walks up behind me. I am made aware of his presence among the distraction as I feel rubbing against my back. His side turned head using my back as a scratching post to satisfy his itch?  No my friends that is not the self centered case of this half ton creature. He is saying, "Daddy I am here. I missed you. Where have you been?" He is most certainly not the alpha but nor is he the omega. He falls somewhere in between the alphabetically defining realm of personality letters.  Turning to let him know I acknowledge his presence with rubs I manage just a few. The other horses quickly pushing him away to look to my moving hands for what they desire. Treats and rewards to fill their already fat full bellies. Yet he stands alone a mere stones toss away watching. Reaching into my pockets I retrieve a handful of treats. Allowing the surrounding herd to acknowledge them with their keen sense of smell I toss them in the opposite direction of my inamorato who stands there with no desire to chase such petty treats. The rest of the herd now busy vying to retrieve the hand tossed delicacies he approaches me. I hold his head against me with love and affection. It is as much his fuel as it is my own. I turn to exit, followed at a respectable distance by my adoring and adored friend.  Holding it open signaling him the permission he seeks to exit the field and the others who physically resemble him. As the three of us stand there, me enjoying and soaking up the moment, I can't help but observe. Acknowledging and absorbing the actions that just took place.  My plotted journey observed and responded to. The actions and reactions as I entered. The easily manipulated distraction I created that all but one fell prey to.  His dedication to follow me outside his defined boundaries and the company of the others physically like him who have near matching DNA. His choice to leave the safety of his peers signals to me that he finds safety and comfort in my company. His trust in me that I always have and always will be his caregiver, his provider, his protector fills my now empty heart.  The many journeys we have traveled together since his birth are safely tucked away in my mind. Easily retrieved to reminisce upon when needed. As I stand there admiring this majestic creature of God before me my mind retrieves from the filing cabinet labeled with his name. Quickly sorting thru day 3 of his birth begins to play.  He is laying curled upon a stack of hay within a stall of the barn. His protective mother standing guard over him. Her ears pinned back warning anyone that intends to do him harm to stay away. Her eyes soften and ears relax as she recognizes me as the source of the sound. Carefully not to startle the sleeping foal I slowly approach. His mother content with who the human visitor is allows me safe passage.  I find myself first sitting next to him admiring his beauty. Astounded by the miracle of birth that he is. His soft breathing seen in the way the straw beneath his nose moves back and forth as he inhales and exhales so gently. Leaning in closer to touch him I look at his guardian looking down at me as if silently asking for her permission to get closer. When I see no warnings of alarm in her I move my hand gently running it across his neck.  His days old fur so soft I am jealous not to have something as comforting as this to sleep upon myself. He releases a soft sigh as if finding comfort in my loving strokes.  Now realizing that the submissive love his mother has given me extends to the trust of her new born, I inch closer. Soon I find myself laying along side his tiny body. Curled up next to him I drape an arm over him. Another soft sudden exhale of breath reaches my ears. Is he communicating his pleasure in feeling my warm body against? Is he capable of such a thought process? I lay there for what feels like hours pressed against him. Only to realize as he begins to finally stir that it’s only been 10 minutes by my watches time.   Emancipated from this world lost in head space I return the the physical by his movement.  He turns his head, in what seems to be, a search to find the source of his sighs. I softly look into his eyes hoping he can peer into my own and see the love and adoration I have for him. THAT moment etched in my mind forever more NEVER to be lost or forgotten.   Slowly he rises as if not to harm me and stands over my still prone form. I find my heart overflowing with love. If only I could find this form of love in my own breed. His mother content that no harm will befall him under my watch, complete and loyal trust bestowed upon me finds comfort in our bond to now lay down herself.  Obviously exhausted by the ritual of birth and having to provide  protection to her child. Her 1400 lb mass taking up much of the stall but careful not to invade my space. Suddenly I find myself lost in thought. Who do I think I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? To THEM.  A brushing against my calf returns me to the world of today as the drawer filled memories are closed. In the universe of my mind I lost a momentary connection to this plane of existence.  My canine comrade standing now by my side waiting for direction. He looks at me then glances to the tack room and back at me. As if he is asking me, in the best way he knows, “Are we going for a ride?” my eyes look down at him as I rub his head. “Not today good boy. Today daddy just needed affirmation to who he is. My hearts full again. Thank you.” “Go get him and let’s go back in. Daddy has work to do.” Doing what he’s been taught to do under my caring tutelage he bounds off to bring back my blessed 4 legged gift. A simple double click from me, seeing his adopted brother heading his way, he knows its time to go back. With the look of a bowed head he walks to me as I rub his face and ears. I whisper in his ears, “Good boy.” As if content to hear these words he heads for the gate. Opening the gate I let him return to his pasture mates where he looks like just another horse. “Come on dog. Daddy has to go search for someone! “ he says as he turns to go back into the house. Because now I know who and what I am. I know what I was meant to be.

Making yourself attractive to other people really does not have to be that difficult. 1. Don't be an asshole. 2. When you send an entre email, consider sending more than just "hi/hey/'sup/you look sexy" because, to be honest, for myself, and for many others, those are auto-dump phrases that will get your email tossed directly into the trash can. Have something to write that makes me actually want to converse with you.  3. Have a picture of you that is flattering. If you want anonymity, use a filter over your face. This is 2024, figure it out. The number of times I have heard the excuse, " I need to be discreet because of my job, etc" is ridiculous. I have worked in healthcare and in the school system with small children. I have had federal background checks done on me. My face is very clearly shown on several social media platforms where I am nude. I haven't had an issue. Trust me, if the government really cared if you were naked on here, you would know it already.  4. Actually read profiles and pay attention to what is in them!   

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.

I wonder if there any service submissive guys right now who just enjoy being useful to a a Dominant Woman without expecting a list of actions in return. I also wonder if there are any polite adult gentlemen submissives left.  In his heart is he sad and needs glee, Seeking to be helpful to a Dominant Woman such as me, Drive together for meals out and joy, Where he craves to be my long term boy.  

So I have a confession. I found someone I'm smitten with here and I still had to leave him with no reply. I realized you have to make hard commands here because so many are trained and untrained by all different variations of superiors. So I'm going to write my must/must not list to help you gauge if we should be communicating at all.  1. Must ask for permission to hold a conversation. I instantly read your profile to see who you believe you are. Not doing this is a pet peeve. It's like being outside and someone just starts talking to you before they ask if you have time to talk.  2. I'm in Atlanta and I frequent Houston because I'll also have a home there soon. I get bored easily so online play is so having someone local or that enjoys travel a lot is preferable. I have a 7 day attention span before im Annoyed with only chit chat so keep that in mind.  3. I am a serial entrepreneur so I don't have time for a 24/7 sub/slave situation. I already have 147 employees, meetings, and projaspects in my vanilla life. The part of my life you live is to allow me to explore my deviance along with worship aspaspects I so enjoy. Everyone needs a little kink but there is a time and place for everything.   4. I rarely play home, I belong to many clubs throughout the U.S. So my favorite types of play dates happen to be dinner drinks and maybe meeting a couple or two if you've been well behaved. I only play with things that belong to me.   5. I enjoy ritual admiration. I believe when you believe in something you will develop rituals to keep it close to your heart. It's the reason we use to pledge our allegiance to the flag or say Grace before we eat. Being able to honor your superior or superiors always makes me happy.  6. I'm not into non thinkers. I Need to be able to hold a conversation with you. I want to enjoy having you and if your stuff like a broom stick I won't be able. Its ok for me to ask how your day was and you give me a real answer not you've been in chastity since 6amim talking about did you speak to family, how was work,  what did you eat? I am a Mistress and a Goddess and a Woman I don't turn any of me off to be the others they are my trinity. I want you to be able to be you in it's entirety for me.  7. So many of you seem like you could be great if you had the right person leading you, but you have to remember to make genuine connections. I'm not interested in training someone I have interest in nurturing. I'm a lover and  unfortunately some times my love hurts a little lol. Sometimes my love demands a little from you but if you believe I'm worth worship you will do what's needed.    8. I'm a 8 life path so I'll leave you with this go listen to "Take me to church" by Hozier and remember me!   Lets have a conversation but remember rule #1 before you message. If you can't follow simple instructions you're wasting my time.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, That mark our place; and in the sky The larks, still bravely singing, fly Scarce heard amid the guns below.   We are the Dead. Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow, Loved and were loved, and now we lie, In Flanders fields.   Take up our quarrel with the foe: To you from failing hands we throw The torch; be yours to hold it high. If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow In Flanders fields.   John McCrae 1872–1918

Roe v Wade   This has nothing to do with babies. If it was about babies, we'd have free healthcare. If it was about babies, you wouldn't have to pay to give birth. If it was about babies, we'd have months of paid leave. If it was about human babies, we wouldn't force mothers to have to choose to keep their job, or put their baby in daycare AT 6 WEEKS. It's ILLEGAL to take nursing kittens and puppy's from their mothers before 8 weeks. Why don't I have the same rights? This has NOTHING to do with babies. And EVERYTHING to do with suppressing a Woman's RIGHT to autonomy over her own body.

Chauffeur wanted for tomorrow night 25/03/2023. You will be required to pick ME up from IG1 by 8.30pm and drop ME off at E11.  

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part II: Temperature Chains” T.L. Duncan He knelt perfectly still in front of the red chair, hands behind his back, shoulders trembling just enough for me to know he was alive inside the anticipation. Good. He should tremble. Temperature chains demand obedience. I stepped behind him and let the room settle into silence. A long silence. Long enough that he started to doubt what he’d feel first. Then I touched the back of his neck with warm oil. He inhaled sharply. The oil wasn’t hot—just body-warm. Comforting. Seductive. A touch that coaxed him into trust before breaking it. “My warmth first,” I murmured. I smoothed the oil over the top of his shoulders, slow strokes that lulled him into lowering his guard. His breath lengthened. His muscles softened. His head tilted forward in surrender. Good. Perfect, actually. Now I changed the temperature. The ice cube was newly unwrapped, frosty and dripping between my fingers. He didn’t hear it. He didn’t expect it. And that made it exquisite. I pressed it to the same spot I had just warmed. He jerked like a current ran through him—but he stayed kneeling. “Good boy,” I said quietly. The praise landed deep. I traced the ice down the line of his spine, a slow, cruel descent. He shuddered uncontrollably, head dropping forward, breath catching on every inch. Then I wiped the trail dry with a heated cloth—soft, warm, soothing. His whole body swayed, caught between two opposites with no ability to prepare for either. “That’s the point of temperature chains,” I whispered. “Your body stops guessing. It just reacts.” He exhaled a broken sound—half moan, half plea. I circled him, letting the warm cloth ghost over his chest, then replaced it with the ice again, pressing it to the hollow of his throat. He gasped and froze. “Don’t move,” I warned. He didn’t. He barely breathed. I let the ice melt in a slow path over his skin, then chased the trail with my warm palm. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. His head fell back against my thigh. “You’re unraveling beautifully,” I said, cupping the side of his face gently—warm palm, cold fingertips. He whimpered at the contrast. Now that he was soft and undone, the next sequence would hit harder. I dipped my fingers in the warm oil again, then traced a circle over his sternum. He relaxed. And just as the comfort settled— I lifted the chilled metal spoon. He didn’t see it. He didn’t hear it. He only felt the shock when it touched the same oiled spot. He choked on a moan. His hands flexed behind his back. His body bowed toward me. “Hold your position,” I commanded, voice velvet and steel at once. He froze, trembling uncontrollably now, his body shaking with a desperate cocktail of cold, warmth, need, and obedience. I moved the spoon lower, then chased it immediately with warmed fingertips. His breath stuttered. His knees nearly buckled. “Your body can’t predict me anymore,” I said softly into his ear. “That’s what surrender feels like.” He nodded, barely able to speak. “Good,” I whispered. “Because your final temperature test will break what’s left of your control.” I stepped away to prepare it—just out of his line of sight, just enough for the dread and desire to twist together. “Be still,” I said. “Lesson three begins now.” He was still kneeling, barely holding himself together. The temperature chains had wrecked his sense of predictability, and I could feel it in the shivers running through him. Now it was time to take the one thing he had left— his mind. I stepped behind him, deliberately quiet, until my thighs brushed the edge of his shoulders. He stiffened, waiting for the next sensation. But I gave him nothing. No touch. Just silence. Then I leaned down until my lips hovered a hair’s breadth from his ear. “Don’t look for my hands,” I whispered. “My voice is what owns you right now.” His breath hitched. Good. I let my breath warm the shell of his ear, slow and soft—not touching, just threatening the touch. He froze in place like prey that knows the predator is right behind it. “You feel that?” I murmured. “Yes… Ma’am…” “That’s not me touching you,” I said. “That’s me deciding you deserve to feel my breath.” He shuddered so hard his balance wavered. I slid one hand behind his neck—not gripping, just resting there, letting him know I could take hold at any moment—but my mouth stayed at his ear. “Your body reacts before you can think,” I whispered. “And that turns me on more than anything else.” He exhaled sharply, a small, helpless sound. I didn’t touch him yet. Instead, I let my lips barely graze the upper curve of his ear—so faint that he might have imagined it. A ghost of contact. A promise. He whimpered. Then I broke the almost-touch with a cold whisper: “Keep your hands behind your back.” “I— I am, Ma’am…” “Good. Because if you lift one finger to steady yourself, this ends.” His spine straightened in panic and obedience at the same time. Now he was mine. I brought my mouth closer, slow and controlled, until the tip of my nose brushed the soft edge of his jaw. “Do you know what I want right now?” I whispered. “No, Ma’am…”

 KandMcouple