Ok ok ok. I don't want to be online for any more time than is necessary.  I've decided there will be no nursing home and so I ramp up My efforts to find the right mix for a live in.  Let's get the communication right.  I need to speak to you at a time which is convenient for Me.  I will make some consessions, but if YOU CANNOT BE ACCOMODATING TO MY SCHEDULE than we are not going to go far and you are wasting My time for engaging someone who wants to make the time to get things moving!  I need.  Please do us both a favor and only contact Me if you are READY WILLING AND ABLE.   My suggestion out of the gate is we take this relationship association on for a set period of time.  Give matters a chance to work out and work up. I am not a menu providing dominant woman nor am I able to allow someone to control any aspect of Me outside of our engagement with one another.  I've come too far to be handing over any reigns to any untried handler and after all, I am responsible, legally, for a life.  So until you demonstrate who you are and I come to trust you, I will be running My own show all on My own.

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.

September 2022Please forgive mewhen I lie awake at nightthinking about my plightthat seems to existbetween the cracks.A setback.A throwback.A monumental slightto my almanacof what it ought to bebetween you and me.What does it meanwhen you say you forgive...but then do not giveback to me the placeat your feet.It feels like heat.If feels like exile on Main St.It feels like a heartbeatthat is nearby incompleteand stews bittersweetnothings into the backseat.Is it defeat?~dirtydarling

**The Bear’s Den**   The air in his apartment was thick with the scent of leather and cedar, a primal musk that clung to my skin as I knelt on the cold hardwood floor. My wrists were bound behind me, the rope biting just enough to remind me of my place. At six foot two, I was no small man, but in his presence, I felt like a fragile thing, a hundred pounds of trembling need locked in a cage of my own submission. The chastity device around my cock was a cruel reminder of his control, its metal teeth grazing my skin with every futile twitch of arousal. I was his, utterly, and the weight of that truth made my chest tighten.   He loomed over me, a mountain of muscle and menace, his broad frame blocking the dim light from the single lamp in the corner. His name was Viktor, a bear of a man with a barrel chest, arms like oak trunks, and a beard that scratched my skin raw when he’d kissed me earlier, claiming my mouth with a hunger that felt like a storm. His eyes, dark and unreadable, held a sadistic glint that made my stomach churn with fear and desire. Yet, beneath that cruelty, there was a flicker of something softer—something that made me trust him, even as my heart raced with dread.   “You’re mine tonight,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the room. His massive hand gripped my chin, forcing my gaze up to meet his. “My little cock sock. You ready to be used?”   I nodded, my throat too dry to speak, the chastity cage tightening as my body betrayed me. His lips curled into a smirk, sinister and knowing, as he released my chin and stepped back, his boots heavy against the floor. He unbuckled his belt with deliberate slowness, the clink of metal echoing in the silence. My eyes followed the movement, hypnotized, as he freed himself, his cock thick and heavy, already glistening with intent.   “Open,” he commanded, and I obeyed, my lips parting as he stepped closer. The first thrust was brutal, filling my mouth until I gagged, my eyes watering as he held my head in place. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice softening for a moment, a strange tenderness in his tone. “Take it like a good boy.” His fingers stroked my hair, a fleeting gesture of care that made my chest ache, even as he fucked my throat with ruthless precision.   The chastity cage was torture, my cock straining uselessly against its confines as he used me. He teased me with words, his voice a dark melody. “Look at you, so desperate, so denied. You’ll get nothing until I say so.” His laughter was low, cruel, but his thumb brushed a tear from my cheek, and I leaned into the touch, craving the warmth behind his dominance.   He pulled out abruptly, leaving me gasping, my lips swollen and slick. “Up,” he ordered, yanking me to my feet by the rope binding my wrists. My legs trembled as he led me to the bed, a massive iron-framed thing draped in black sheets. He pushed me face-down, my chest pressed into the mattress, my ass exposed and vulnerable. The air was cool against my skin, but his hands were fire, spreading me open with a possessiveness that made my pulse race.   “You’re gonna feel me,” he said, his voice dripping with dark promise. I heard the snap of a lube bottle, the slick sound of him preparing himself, and then the blunt pressure of his cock against my hole. I whimpered, the stretch immediate and overwhelming, my body resisting even as I craved it. “Relax,” he growled, but there was a gentleness in his grip, his fingers kneading my hips as he eased inside, inch by agonizing inch. The pain was exquisite, a burning fullness that made me feel alive, claimed, his.   He fucked me with a rhythm that was both punishing and deliberate, each thrust driving me deeper into submission. The chastity cage rattled with every movement, a constant reminder of my denial, my cock throbbing uselessly as he used me. “My perfect little sock,” he taunted, his voice tight with lust. “Made for this, weren’t you?” I could only moan, my mind fogged with sensation, the world narrowing to the heat of him inside me.   Then, without warning, he slowed, his thrusts shallow, teasing. I felt a new warmth, a strange pressure, and realized with a jolt what was happening. He was pissing inside me, claiming me in a way that felt filthy and intimate, a violation that made my caged cock ache with need. “Take it,” he whispered, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “Every part of you is mine.” The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of shame and surrender, and I whimpered, my body trembling under his weight.   He pulled out slowly, leaving me empty and aching, only to grab me by the hair and pull me to my knees again. “Open,” he said again, and I did, my mouth ready for him. The taste of him was sharp and bitter as he released another stream, his piss flooding my throat as I struggled to swallow, to please him. His hand cupped my face, his thumb tracing my jaw, and I saw that flicker of care again, a silent promise that he’d never push me past what I could handle.   When he was done, he knelt beside me, his massive frame enveloping me as he untied my wrists. “You did so well,” he murmured, his voice a balm against the raw edges of my submission. He kissed my forehead, his lips soft where they’d been cruel, and pulled me into his arms. The chastity cage remained, a final act of denial, but his warmth, his strength, made it bearable. I was his—used, claimed, and cherished in the dark, mysterious dance of our desires.

They say before I knew you were mine, that I already was. That you knew from the start. From the beginning of time. Did you know how stubborn I'd be and how it's hard breaking and building someone being distants away? The ability to turn off submission when I want to do my own thing? As many times as I've sinned against you, I don't deserve you. Yet you stay, you say get back up try again. Even if we go through the same battle a thousand times you may go silent but you never leave. I feel my shame. I feel my guilt. I want to change but darling why is it so hard? I want to give you every good thing I am and know I could be. The potential is there waiting to be awakened into firey motivation and passion. Even if you can't save me, lead me in the way I know I should go so I don't influence others to do the wrong things. Let me be a righteous leader leading with grace and let me be a proper role model to look up too. If you can't save me, can you at least stick around until the end? I like you Jesus. Always have, always will. 

I thought it would be fun to expand upon the humiliation aspaspects I described in my first journal. To write about why it intrigues me and enhances my experiences. Verbal1) Name calling and labeling me This is different for everyone but to me there are a few reasons. Calling me a slut or worse things opens up my sexual drive. It tells Me that my partner acknowledges my acceptance of penetration and they I am sexually satisfying my partner. As a sexually active woman it motivates me to perform better. It also takes away the uncertainty in the room to not be a whore. It essentially level sets that anything goes and I don't have to worry about holding back. I am able do play on instincts and not worry about self control or norms.  On the flip side with my husband playing cuck role sometimes, it really turns him on because he knows how active it makes me In sex. In turn it makes me more dominant to my husband for a different type of release during sex.   I think overall the name calling and labeling leads to a path of vulnerability and curiosity. I also love the creativity that the partner can do with labeling.

It has been ages since I have been on this site so it will take me a bit to get used to the way this is set up. Kink: I am dominant, and am drawn to 24/7 Master/slave relationships with TPE, though I am not opposed to Dominant/submissive dynamics. In my head I think some of my tastes can be a bit extreme, I am well aware after all this time in this community that it is really just a matter of one's perspective, and I am down right vanilla in comparison to some. Other writtings and a more complete fetish list can be found on my FetLife profile. My interests include, but are not limited to: Anal Bimbofication Bathroom control Chastity Enemas Fisting, both vaginal and anal Humiliation Lactation Rimming Rough use S&M Toilet slavery Watersports Health: I get tested between partners, and when I am in poly relationships I get tested when it seems prudent depending on circumstances. I have both varieties of Herpes, and though I have not had an outbreak for over 5 years to the best of my knowledge, this is something potential partners should be aware of.  At my current age of 62 it might not be a surprise the I can have issues from time to time with erectile dysfunction. This is not an issue for me as I have always enjoyed using toys etc. and find a multitude of ways of enjoying myself.  I have for the last 2 1/2 years been dealing with PPPD which makes it seem as if the world is alway rocking 24/7 and leaves me with brain fog among a litany of other side-effaspects.   Other than these delightful tidbits I am healthy and in a shape.

Since adding journal entries won't cause my profile to need re-approval, I'm adding this after reading some of the profiles on the site.   I'm looking for trans Dommes or switches. No men or women unless you're exceptional, sorry, I've been attracted to trans women since 2011 (I was bisexual then). I'm not looking for sub trans girls because being a Domme doesn't really come naturally to me. I can be a Domme for sure, have been for years since it's so hard to find Dommes of both the trans and cis types. I also met too many subs and was interested in cyber RPs a lot then. Not so much anymore unless you're really good, because my tastes have changed over 15 years.   I very rarely chat to couples though I used to meet good ones on Reddit. Maybe 1 so far. It depends on if you're sincerely interested in trans girls or sissies.   I like watching gangbang and reverse gangbang porn, but probaby won't do it IRL. Not even a sissy orgy which I dream about so often. Fantasies and reality should be separate. I want someone exclusive in general, and please don't contact me if you're part of or looking for a poly household. Couples or being part of a throuple (a third wheel, not a fourth), will be very rare if at all and I'd probably be looking for my own lover anyway even if I was part of one, so you might be better off contacting someone who's poly.   I watch cuckold and cuckquean porn, and it'll be most likely a polite no if you're interested in acting out those things IRL. I don't mind acting as the occasional sissy cuck who cleans up a woman after she gets a huge fat cock, or maybe as the trans bull in some situations. Depends on what mood the three of us are in. I also do think of cuckqueaning trans or cis women sometimes, such as tying them up and making them watch me with a younger or sexier chick with bigger tits and an arse. That said, those RPs will probably be for hookups only, and I'd avoid them in general. I don't want to get into a relationship and destroy it with either type of cucking, though if you have strong fantasies about it, we can roleplay it anytime. For example, with dildos, fleshlights, body forms, etc.    If you're a cuckoldress or a polyandrous hotwife/polygamous couple/polygynous Dom, please avoid contacting me unless you understand that no matter what, I won't be completely submissive to you forever or a 'perfect cuckold'. I could be in the bedroom during the RP and Dom if you ask me to have sloppy seconds later, but I won't be exclusive to you at all or a complete slave, unless you can devote yourself to me as a Domme in the exact same way.    I prefer gentle, caring Mommy Dommes instead of heartless and cruel bitch Dommes, though I don't mind some sadistic and humiliating or hurtful RPs if you enjoy them too. I just want a Domme to serve who isn't selfish and all about herself, which seems to be most of them. A Domme is slightly more in charge of the relationship than her sub, but it doesn't mean she ignores and disregards her sub's feelings. Think of the dynamic in the same way as a male Dom who has to take care of his sub as well even if he dominates her, or else she'll find someone else.   If you didn't take note of this in my previous journal entries, please don't contact me at all if you're a pro Domme or expect any sort of tributes and dumb contracts to be signed which only benefit you. I've seen them all and IDC in the slightest about paying to act as if I'm being cared for. Some of you are disappointed in what you find online and IRL, and I don't really blame you because most subs and Dom/mes aren't very good at what they claim to do. It's very frustrating to put in efforts for your relationships or dates and find someone who half-arses it. I get it, but your previous disappointments have nothing to do with me, and vice versa. I've had enough people contact me on here and other social media explaining that a Domme needs tribute to show obedience and that you feel you've wasted enough time putting in efforts for useless subs. It's a joke and a pretty laughable reason. I've heard of enough pseudo-Dommes who ask for money and then vanish without giving a promised video or RP, or the ones who realize that it can be a very easy cash grab and pretend to be exclusive while contacting a million subs to get money up front, and then release nothing or piss-poor quality content. I don't see why my money should go to a user or liar, and I probably have no reason to trust people more than they trust me. We can just keep it mutually beneficial and respectful without exchanging money or false promises, and if that doesn't work out, we move on.   Happy hunting, all.

What a maid should bring to Dragao Verde For your first visit, or if you have nowhere to store anything at home, I can probably lend you anything you have not yet acquired on your first visit, though I cannot guarantee it would be a good fit, flattering, comfortable, etc.! From top to bottom; Unless your hair is long enough to be styled in a credibly feminine style, you will want a wig. A long-hair hairpiece can look great, but will be difficult to keep it in good condition if wearing it daily. So I would recommend something that can be more easily maintained. I can offer one as a loan, but it may not be of good quality, the colour that suits you, or in tip-top condition. If all else fails, I will have you wear a snood cap over your hair and/or wig. I have something suitable. If you have pierced ears, small studs or sleeper-type earrings are fine; big dangly hoops are not. Or you can wear clip-on sleepers. If you want your ears (or anywhere else) pierced, I can probably arrange it. If you normally wear spectacles, try to have a pair in a gender-neutral or a feminine style, or wear contact lenses. (Sometimes when you buy a pair of glasses, they will offer an extra pair free, and you could have those in a suitable style.) If you want to show a bust-line, but don't yet have breasts, then you will want silicone breast inserts. No bigger than C cup, ideally. Definitely no bigger than D cup. It is hard to make bigger sizes look realistic. With a bra, and spare, to hold them in place. A chastity device, that you know you can wear for the whole period without pain or problems. My current recommendation for a chastity device is the custom Cherry Keeper. It is made to measure using 3D printing. You can choose the ring-size, cage-style, diameter, length, colour, and even finish.  See recent photos of Jessica's device in my Fet Life photos and read the captions and comments. I recommend an open-cage design, in white, and the minimum size you can get your flaccid penis into, to eliminate any chance of erections or chafing in the best possible finish. An anal plug, again, that you know you can wear for the whole period without pain or problems. Get one and some lube and try it. If too big, get something smaller, if you think you could wear something larger, get a larger one, and so on. A suspender belt and several pairs of black stockings. These are optional, but most girls like to wear them for evening table service. If one or more of your dresses is a pastel colour, not black, bring some in tan or nude. Black court shoes, modest heel, no more than an inch and a half for day wear. A pair of Crocs, or imitations, in a neutral colour, i.e. grey, white, black would be a less expensive alternative, the back stairs are very hard on shoes! Perhaps a second pair for evenings with a ~3 inch heel, but these are optional.  Maid dresses, ideally 2 or 3 to allow for laundry. Plain pastel colour or black, in cotton or polycotton, white collar and cuffs optional. I can loan you one or two dresses in your size, but it is better to have your own. The ideal would be at least two in grey, blue or burgundy or black. But anything similar would be fine. We look for a shared style, but not total regimentation with identical uniforms. There is an informal code on hemlines, above the knee for slave-maids who give sexual service, below the knee for those who don't, bondmaids. So everyone knows where they stand, or kneels. My rule is that the apron should never go below the hemline, but usually be quite close. Several white aprons, full and waist aprons, plain and fancy, ideally 2 plain in each style to allow for laundry. Again, I can loan these, if needed. If you have a fetish French-maid outfits or costume, whether in conventional fabrics, latex, PVC or whatever, bring that too, as you may be able to wear it doing table service at our kinky dinner parties. Makeup kit. Some practice in private beforehand will help. Wash-bag, toothbrush, paste, flannel, etc. (There may be some shampoo and conditioner available for communal use, e.g. left behind by other visitors.) Perhaps a skimpy, shortie nightie. If you have nowhere discreet to leave a uniform, you may store it in a plastic box in our loft until you use it again, though if it is there unopened for more than a couple of years we'll message you and ask if you are coming back. If not, we'll put it into stock.

Woo-hoo approved.  I kept it fairly safe cause I've heard of so many others having issues. As stated I was around when it was collarme.  Probably 2005 until it went poof.  So thrilled to see this new site. I did in fact meet quite a few men from that site over the years.  Some were one offs.  Some were play partners for a while.  Some we just weren't as compatible in person.   I do my best to avoid the latter issue by getting to know someone enough prior to meeting.  Ensuring our wants and needs are both going to be met and that expectations are realistic.  If someone cannot engage my mind prior to meeting I already know that won't happen magically just because we do meet.   I am genuinely a kind person.  I can come across bitchy because of my writing style and bluntness.  I also do not have much patience for those who will not read and are here due to boredom or for me to entertain them via writing and pics.  I am looking for real time meets.  That is all. I do lean submissive.  I love being used.  I am not an idiot or a brainless child.  I am a slut first who also happens to be submissive. If "training" is in your repertoire move on.  That's a game I'm not into.  I'm also not into submissive men or switches.   I am simply not attracted to them. I want people to reach out but please be interested in real time and local.  If men would respect what women want I think both our experiences on this site would be so much better.   I will post more and get into the good stuff.  Take care for now!

          Good Morning 🍒 Male submissives are beautiful and desirable creatures, and it is absolutely tragic when they do not know their own desirability because they are forcibly taught, not just by mainstream society but by the BDSM community, that they are not desirable, that they can not possibly be objaspects of desire I am not dominant because I hate men, but because I love and desire men enough to want to own them. I cherish and appreciate submissive men for their beautiful masculinity. Submissive men just gets the pussy juices flowing for me. Their yielding excites me in a primal way. Their desire to please, to be pursued, to be attractive for me, the object of my fierce and hungry gaze, is what pushes my buttons. I certainly respect people who are wired differently. I just won't date them.

  hope, still Since nineteen I’ve wandered, with stars in my chest, Through years full of aching, through trials and tests. I’ve searched in the silence, in moments I’d cry, And whispered to shadows my tear-threaded why. I’ve given up hope, then lit it anew, Wrote love in the margins, believed it was true. The road has been winding, the nights have been long, But I’ve kept my soul tethered to one quiet song. Today I still listen, my heart open wide, For the one who will see me and stand by my side. Who’ll meet me with presence, and power, and grace, To hold all my parts in their rightful place.   So come now, Daddy, I’ve waited so long— Collar me gently, where I truly belong.

  The BDSM lifestyle is often thought of as painful play and humiliation.  Bruises and degradation.  Is the kink lifestyle all pain and shame?  Is there more to discover……  

 I am guessing that a lot of men here, and I don’t blame them, really, just want someone to look at their cock and tell them they did a good job by having one. But honestly, is that what D/s is? I thought that a Dom was a man that had figured out how to seduce a woman and liked seduction. I thought the whole point was for them to use their power in ways to see what they could do. Where are these men? I feel like I have more power now than ever and am so disappointed at the lack of creativity and artistry. What is up you guys? Within minutes of making a connection a man says ‘you will be my whore’ which is a bit much, but ok, my dude, let’s see what you’ve got? Make me your whore! Just you telling me I will be your whore really isn’t so effective. Plus you don’t mean it, you might mean you want someone you can jack off to/with, which is cool, but that’s not your whore, that’s just a whore. And being a whore, which is also fine, is not what I am looking to experience. I am surely worth more than that.  When I think about being a man’s whore, well I get very excited. I think about the possibilities for so many interesting and intriguing things, I want to give this person pleasure, I want to focus on them, learn how to serve them. I want us to build a connection that allows for mutuality. I want to want to be really bad for him.   But it’s a relationship and in my mind an important one and perhaps I am wrong but when I offer myself up sexually to someone it’s kind of sacred to me. I take the thing seriously, I am good at devotion.  There have been men that believed they very much wanted me to be their whore, but with the exception of a very few,  they weren’t really getting me, and though they seemed very much committed to ‘the idea of idea’ of the dynamic, they  weren’t able to be realistic- like they lacked maturity or experience. I totally thought I would be able to find someone to teach me something. And I am mean, I am not that evolved. I am sure I have a lot to learn. Are my expectations out of bounds? Am I wrong about what this D/s thing has come to be about? Any sane person out there want to share a prespective on this for me?   No need to attack me, I am seirously just speaking from my own experience.

A Click of theWheel and a new Cycle Begins, with sudden surprising promise and potential😳 Muses, Inspiration, and the awakening of things too long dormant. Huzzah!!❣️but tbh still feral wary .... and a bit gobsmacked😆yay? Oak Moon Mother smiles down in all Her Glory, bathing me in Comfort and helping purge what no longer serves. And at Her heel is Yule, fulfilling the promise of Rebirth/Renewal .. and with its merry twinkle hints at the path full of new Adventures ahead.  )O( If all goes well, its proof Miracles do happen,   and or that Majick Works hahaha And if it turns out hes not My forever boi... Well...then at least itl'l be fun for awhile ..  untl its Not. Unrelated 12.28 update  Expect? Ive learned not to expect anything from anyone. Hellsbells even vanilla you cant expect common sense minimal manners or basic human decency smmfhHowever I do Appreciate Honesty above all,especially when its Hardest. Also..Consistency over time lol hmmm .. Intelligence, Curiosity, selfawareness, motivation and discipline that come from within, Loyalty Honor Devotion Integrity Empathy Passion, a great twisted sense of humor, and Wit which is not the same thing ..an exploring adventurous nature, talented hands and mouthAll great assets, but .. shrugs and smilesIm multifaceted and multidimensional, Adept and adaptableand tbh am only rigidly unflexible about particular Unacceptable tones, attitudes, behaviors, mindsets

I spent the better part of Friday evening in tight breast bondage. Goddess Tabitha started at the chest wall of each of my breasts and wound the thin rope round and round until each breast felt like it was being crushed.She then had me stand on a stack of books and she took an additional rope and wound it around both breasts then tossed the free end of the rope over the rafter in the living room and tied it off. With a simple slap on my bottom I stepped of the books to hang by my breasts, my toes about six inches off the floor.It was such an awkaward feeling. It felt like each breast was going to explode, it felt like they were going to be ripped from my chest, it felt like I was going to fallover backward all at the same time.She then took a lit candle and ran it around my backside. Bursts of pain and heat here and there making my body jerk adding to the pain in my breasts with each flinch.It didn't last long as my breasts actually started turning very dark, it was heaven and hell all at once. I was so very close to orgasm as she let me downAfter I was untied I had to crawl between her legs to service her needs in gratitude for my training session. I whimpered, begged with my eyes and twerked my hips to tell her how desperally I needed release. She just kissed me and said "not tonight pet, maybe tomorrow"We went to bed and cuddeled until we ferll asleep.I am such a lucky girl :)

Fantacy vs reality Oct 17 2019 Dommes are people.   Like, actual, real human beings who have jobs, family, friends, pets, hobbies, fears, insecurities, frustrations, get colds, get sunburns, do household chores, sleep badly, have bad dreams, have bad days at work, have good dreams, have side hustles, spill soup, yawn, ... everything that everyone else does.   Most of the emails I get aren't writing me. They are writing The Beautiful and Goddesslike Domme in the Tall Boots and The Sexy Corset.   It's a lot like writing Robert Downey Jr. and thanking him for saving the world that time when he flew into the black hole and you're sorry it scared him. Or maybe more like talking to a cardboard cutout of Iron Man at the theater, and expecting it to help you soup up your car so that it flies.   There is a real person behind all of that. But if you aren't interested in them, if you aren't interacting with them, asking about their actual life, treating them like a person? You are focused on the image you have, and treating it like it's the reality. Not a good look for anyone.   Which is not saying that the Domme in The Tall Boots isn't really me. It's just that it's this teeny slice of the whole me, and when you treat me like it's the only part that matters, you diminish me to a flat, limited function of my outside appearance. And it tells me that you aren't really very grounded or realistic.   The thing that I feel makes The Domme in The Tall Boots (I should copyright that) so fabulous is the mind and personality inside. The intelligence that makes me recognize patterns and respond quickly. The ethics that mean I won't lie or manipulate or abuse people when they put their trust in me. The talent that lets me learn quickly and develop new skills for better play. The understanding of human behavior and insightful nature that helps me know what others are thinking / feeling even when they don't say it out loud, and find the best response. The self control that keeps me level when play gets heated so that I don't destroy my playtoys.   And so much more... all the things that took a lifetime to build, and which have nothing to do with my face. All of these things would still be a part of me if my skin slid off and my hair fell out and I was a hideous bog monster.   These are the things that I think make me a quality person, and a good Domme. When someone writes an email saying "the most beautiful domme in the whole world You are a Goddess A domme like you is worth moving for" I know they aren't really responding to anything I've written. They are looking at a picture, and imagining who I am, filling in all the blanks with their ideal Domme's traits.   Much like that Boston song - "You must understand this I've watched you for so long That I feel I've known you I know it can't be wrong"   They see, they assume, they create a whole person in their heads that wears my face and my kinky clothes, and then they imagine that person wanting to do all the things to them that they want done. They write a letter to that person professing their undying devotion and expressing how much they are looking forward to all those things.   Meanwhile, I'm sitting over here in my pajamas with a cat on my lap trying to dry my hair after a shower, considering what to have for my bedtime snack, remembering that I didn't water the hibiscus twigs, and get blindsided with a huge wave of words written to ... I dunno who. But she has my face, so I'm expected to respond accordingly. And they get upset when I don't. I've ruined their fantasy. And disrupted their wank fodder.   And the sender never knows that they wrote a cardboard cutout while missing the actual amazingness of the real person.   I suppose it's the reverse of the situation Dustin Hoffman discussed in an interview when he realized he hadn't bothered to interact with women who didn't look a certain way, and now that he saw himself dressed as a woman and didn't look like that, he wouldn't have talked to himself as a woman, and understood how many amazing women he missed out on meeting because of it. [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yuaiR89iofE[/youtube]   And honestly, I am, like most women, in that same boat. If I fail to wear The Tall Boots and The Sexy Corset with the proper primping and makeup, 99% of men won't notice me at all, much less fall at my feel begging to be spanked and pegged. Their fantasy is very specific - THIS look, doing THAT act. Anything else is invisible to them. So when I am seeking a sub, such as on here or at a play party, I "Perform Femininity." And I do it well. Hence the emails. But other than that...   I become invisible if I wrap up my hair over a naked face to do yardwork. Not to everyone, but to a majority of the male population. Which is why so many me

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Chastity Chastity strictly speaking is a state of being. The connotation is concerned with purity. In olden times a chaste person was assumed to be free form venereal disease. Further it was thought that person would also have certain character attributes. That their thinking was free of prurient interest was a major attribute. In other terms they did not sexualize things or people. An individual in locked in a chastity device without orgasm will over time gain the same state of innocence. So yes, My slave property will be kept in chastity. Once this state is entered the slave will find a peace and contentment it may not have recollection of ever entering in its past existence. For some, it will be a state of serenity. Will I allow slaves to live continuously in such bliss? Not likely. This state of being occurs over time in males after castration. This return to the innocence of prepuberty is the basis for My considering chastity as a form of castration if but temporary and reversible. Interestingly, if a chastised individual is allowed the pleasure of orgasm and ejaculation it will, over time, return to the sexually obsessed state it may have had prior to the period of denial. This phenomenon marks one of the differences between castration and chastity. The period of time differs from one to another. My experience indicates about six months. Freeing a slave from whatever sex centered ideation it may have leaves its brain available for service to its Superior Owner. This, of course, is a desirable thing. Therefore, most all of My slave property will be locked in chastity. slave’s period of denial, at least for the first couple of weeks, can be a grueling torturous event. Locking a slave’s cock in an inflexible irremovable cage will over time result in changes the Master finds most desirable. At least initially. Locked up some ‘male’ penises will try repeatedly and with marginal success to gain erection and relief for its swollen prostate. its mind will become fixated on sexual things and frustration. it may well experience actual pain and mental distress: true anguish. This period may last days or weeks. Sleep for a few nights may be very difficult. Nights will be spent awake, or semi so, with the sexual ideation and unfulfilled need for sexual release. The discomfort of the slave is one of many things that can bring pleasure to Me as a sadist. After the slave has served Me the blissful state of prepubescence I will start the whole process over again. Milking probably without orgasm will occur. A period of time will elapse with regular sexual release until its old way of thinking with its penis will be established. At some point in time after the establishment, the old chastity cage will be locked on it and it will start the delightful, at least delightful for Me, process over again. Yes, chastity will occur for female slave as well. Mechanically, with some differences as one might expect.  

Life doesn’t give you breaks. The echoing silence of the house after work is a painful reminder of the voids that have been created in the past few years. James's memories are still fresh, like an unfinished story that replays in my mind every time I find a moment of quiet. The vibrant life he introduced me to, our moments of intimacy in the world of BDSM, and the painful void of his loss due to COVID. But this year, just when I thought I was gathering myself up, learning to stand again, another wave hit. Dad's gone. It's been four agonizing weeks since his heart failed him, and my world crumbled, yet again. Coming home, I see mom trying to cope, trying to smile for me, but her eyes betray the pain. As much as she leans on me, I lean on her. Between the bustle of the law firm, my weekend beauty appointments, and the humdrum of daily chores, it's these stolen quiet moments with mom that have become my solace. We share memories, of dad's quirks, of his love for spicy food, of the times he'd dance with me on old Bollywood numbers. this city feels so different without James and now, without dad's laughter ringing through the corridors of our house. The weekends are a . Between the shopping, the laundry, and the cooking, there's this constant underlying grief that seems to tag along. Sometimes, during my beautician shifts, I wonder what's next for me? Would I find love again? Or perhaps another purpose? My heart feels so brittle, afraid to hope, afraid to dream. Yet, with every sun that sets, there's a hope for a new dawn, a new beginning. I believe James and dad would want me to find happiness, to thrive, to make them proud. And so, I promise myself to take each day as it comes, to find little moments of joy and to cherish the love that I've been so lucky to experience.

Training a new submissive, what does that mean Training means something slightly different to every person. The overall ive is to change, modify, or adjust behaviors, attitude, abilities, and desires of the submissive to match that of the dominant. When done in good faith and conscience that means making those changes and adjustments not only with consent of the submissive but also in respect to limits and limitations. Many people have different methods to training and how it is most effective or best accomplished. Here is my opinion and what I intend to do once I find the sub with which to explore that journey with. I think that training, for the most part should be gentle and takes time. Other disagree and think that rough fast training is more effective. In my experience, especially when working with someone that is very new, that can be extremely overwhelming. I think that training should be well thought out, methodical, and subtle, especially at first. Instead of diving into punishments and harsh corrections, gentle reminders and calm but authoritative explanation can be much more effective. I also like to explore other mediums with witch to train a submissive. I very much enjoy exploring erotic hypnosis and showing someone new what kind of things you can do with it. How with very little time you can accomplish much in training a new sub. The key to this sort of exploration is not only consent, but informed consent and full understanding of the process. Someone willing to participate. This is not the sort of thing you can be rough and forceful with. It takes a gentle touch, especially when the goal is long term. Like many I do enjoy the rougher aspects of sexuality, rough sex can be intoxicating under the correct circumstances. That being said, it's not something to rush into head first with someone who has no experience of it. If you work into it slowly, what feels like excruciatingly slow to some, you might be surprised what you can accomplish. Fear can be a powerful motivator for some, but most will push themselves much further if they feel safe and know that they can trust their partner. When I say excruciatingly slow I don't mean in the course of one session. I don't mean over a week or even a couple weeks. When something is worth it you will be willing to put for the time and the effort to take things as slow as necessary. Sometimes this means months or even longer. I'll use anal training as an example. For someone who has never experienced any kind of anal play it can be overwhelming and painful if someone rushes things. If someone goes from no experience at all to full on anal sex in one session it may push them to never wanting to do it again. If you take your time however, start with toys and plugs and gently and slowly build up endurance and size then when the actual anal sex happens it can be an amazing experience on both ends. Like I already said, weeks or months, not necessarily hours or days. When you work together on accomplishing something like that and you ensure that the submissive partner feels safe and cared for then will often times push themselves further than you imagined they could. This is the sort of thing that I'm looking for. This is the kind of dynamic I want to find with a submissive woman, because when you build things up the right way, they last much longer and they mean much more. So where are you young lady? I know you're out there somewhere. I just have yet to find you. When I do, I very much look forward to the training.

After years of being in D/s relationships, I've come to realize that I am just not capable of equality in 'vanilla relationship'. I gave it a shot but discovered how unfulfilled, frustrated and dispirted I became when engaged in a relationship with a partner as 'equals'. Dispite attempting to gravitate away from any D/s aspect within a relationship, my natural instincts and habitual tendencies always found a way to emerge subconsciously without my realization. My inner desire would have me doing things that used to be commonplace as a domestic slave but were highly discouraged during my attempts with 'vanilla relationships'. My therapist believed I subconsciously believe I am not worthy of love, but I disagree entirely. My love for submission, service and dedicating my every waking moment in pursuit of another individual's happiness is love on a different scale. She says that's just obsession and addiction, I told her she didn't know what happiness and life is about. I explained how in my relationships in D/s, happiness is a product of my devotion, loyalty and making my owner's life simpler, less stressful and more fulfilling in all aspaspects, which directly impacts my happiness. Because of this mantra, I compared serveral situations within a D/s relationship compared to a vanilla relationship. I discussed the difference in communication, expectations, and how shared responsibilities can foster underlying resentment. Then as a final point I looked to civilization's history and explained how up until the 1960's, culturally women were expected to be submissive to their men, remain in the home, be seen but not heard, cook, clean, provide sexual pleasure rather than receive it all while putting on a smile and looking good. I explained that in a nutshell, those general principles are some of the basic things I crave in any relationship. I genuinely receive pleasure from making othera happy in any capacity. I then asked her if her husband evokes even a percent of those qualitie.......I told her no response IS a response, thanked her for out final session and exited the room.  So to sum things up, I'm back here again in hope to find someone with similar values, aspirations and ambitions in life. It's always darkest before the light.

OK OK OK OK OK OOOOOKAYY Attn: MASTERS /OWNERS   i offically have the funds to get me anywhere in the united states i think. if you dont know me by now i have been seeking and owner /master to spend the rest of our times together. with that been said allow me to tell you ALLL about me incase your intrested in onwing a sissy pet. (Ps. excuse any grammer erros and or misspelling)  MY NAME IS MATEO OCAMPO AKA: MAKAYLA ERMOSA..   i am currently 24 going on 25 on april 9. i am average to fit build. hmmm lemmie see well im an aries but a very unique on... since my characteristics lean towards leading and what not and knowing i am not one to assume a leadership rolll  anything that over powers me. enslaves me or take the ability away to do what i want TURNS ME THE HECK ON!!! i crave it dramatically lol   knowing that ive develoed a sumissive personality and beacame a really really obidient little sissy property piece not to mention my youth and sexy boddy heeehee .....--- hmm this isnt coming out to well so ill stop right here and will rewrite on this topic when i get a spontaioius streak of the proper thought and bettter explained    nevertheless for now here you go  please feel free to ask away   just if you can possable make it a multiplle choice questions lol it would help me answer better lol    umm but yea long story short:   i have money to buy a ticket and go anywhere in the US i am a very willing kind obident sexxy little play thing looking to be owned. i am very adaptable and could be molded into literally LITERALLY anything you desire and pretty dam good at it too  lol (  i could just tell ) :)   so imagnin haveing a sexii little thing in the palm of your hands.. within a few weeks of training you have a very willing enthousiastic sissy toy doing exactly what you crave exactlly the way you crave it. sound yummy huh lol   so freaken florida is making it hard to obtain HRT and since i stopped before the bill went into place theres even more hurtles to get them :( it sucks so bad i havent been on inlike 3-4 month i think... i forgot... so one of the very first things i want to do is get back on HRT as soon as possible.  but dont worry im still cute petite and feminim :) juss saying lol 

052426 Oy! Such fragility amongst some members.  Not ALL  men, but SOME men have been so PAMPERED, so sheltered in this life that they believe ALL WOMEN are there to serve their understandingS and expectationS.  I serve God, Me, Mum, and My cat lol  You are last on a loooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggggggg list. I am NURTURING, KIND and hold HIGH EXPECTATIONS.  You will work to be PHYSICALLY, MENTALLY, SPIRITUALLY 100% available in My presance or you will not be in My life.    If you are interested in serving Me, we will need to get to know one another through speaking by phone. I am available SUNDAY THROUGH THURSDAY AFTER 6PM EASTERN STANDARD TIME AND THROUGH BLOCKED PHONE, CHAT/MEET OR TEAMS, and WITH ADVANCE NOTICE. I dont sign in daily and sometimes not for weeks at a time.  If we speak once and then dont speak again for several months, WE ARE STARTING OVER. Keep it real people.  Keep it real.      

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?

The Dancing Warrior:   In the temple's silent embrace he stands, A martial artist, guided by ancient strands. His spirit whispers in the fragrant breeze, A tale of dedication, shaped by kung-fu keys. In dawn's quiet dance, his journey begins, Mind, body, and soul, entwined, he spins. Through the flowing forms, a symphony unfolds, A canvas of discipline, as history beholds. With each stance, a story etched in the air, The echoes of wisdom, the stillness will share. His mind, a tranquil lake reflecting the moon, Absorbs the teachings, a harmonious tune. Body sculpted by the dance of swift kicks, Precision and power, a blend that clicks. Muscles, like poetry, weave tales of might, A warrior's silhouette, embracing the night. Soul, the furnace where courage is refined, Embracing shadows, where fears are confined. In the stillness, he finds his inner voice, A choice made daily, to rejoice. Through trials and triumphs, his spirit ascends, A journey of mastery that never bends. Kung-fu, the language his essence speaks, A tapestry of strength, resilience, and peaks. In the dojo's sanctuary, he bows with grace, A warrior-poet in this sacred space. For in the art of kung-fu, he finds his rhyme, A lifelong dedication, transcending space and time.

I used to post all the time I feel.  Thease went away for far too long and i've gotten out of practice.As submissive as I am, I need and MUST respect the person(s) that I submit to and serve.  It pains me to say and write this, but I think I need to.  If you are supportative of Trump, no matter what your reason, I do not respect you.Talking why's and reasons are unneeded.  Things are so polarized now, that most people know why or why not.   Though if you want to talk, I'm open to polite discuession and debate.what about serving other Republicians who don't support Trump?   That is a very strong "it depends".I'm a huge huge huge fan of Freedom(funny enough huh?  ;). ), and things like extreme strictness abortion laws where women are at risk of dying, as well as this Moms for liberity crap and banning books seems very much like restricting freedom and Control.So the "it depends" depends a lot on your views and values overall, as well as your acceptance of mine.   Because with what I say above?  I'd imagine there are many a Republician who have similar feelings about people with my views.  Though after this post, I doubt few republicians would care to speak with me.

A Master takes away his slave's free use of time. Her time no longer belongs to her. She rises in the morning when instructed, and her use of time is at Master's will. She will work at what Master orders when he tells her. If she works outside the home, she is expected back at a certain time, her time belongs to him. When she eats, sleeps, perhaps uses the bathroom, when she does her chores, and when and if she has leisure is not for her to decide. Her time is not her own. If Master calls her to his side, she goes, no matter what she was doing. Her time is not her own, it belongs to Master. When you take away a woman's free use of her time, it no longer belongs to her, but becomes Master's time. I think there is no more powerful psychological experience than that of not owning your own time. Physicality: The experience of one's body as one's own. A slave's body does not belong to her. She is instructed on how to wear her hair, whether and how to use makeup, when to be clothed, and in what clothing, and when to be naked, how to care for her skin and nails. She can be stripped and inspected at will. She is denied free access to her own pleasure. She may not masturbate without permission. She may not climax without permission. She may not take irin for a headache without permission. She has sex when, how, and with whom her Master decides. She must bear whatever pains are inflicted upon her. She has no right to say "no" to the use of her body. After a time, her psychological reality becomes "my body no longer belongs to me." When you take away a woman's free use and handling of her own body, it no longer belongs to her, but become's Master's property. It is a powerful shock that first moment a woman recognizes that her body is no longer her own. Privacy: We free beings are used to the right to privacy. We close bathroom doors. We perform our ablutions in private. We would prefer to be left alone when we are ill, perhaps, or cranky, or not looking our best. We hide the evidence of our menses: flush the tampons, wrap the used napkins. We take our deepest fears, our most intense angers, our illogical primitive emotions and hide them from others, lest they turn from us in disgust or fear. We note our dreams in morning and consign them to the dream ether from whence they come; they disturb us and we wish to forget. A slave has no right to any of that privacy. There is no private space in which a slave can hide from Master, either literally or metaphorically. She may not close a bathroom door. If Master wants her to experience her lack of privacy, he may choose to intrude upon her bathroom functions. She may not hide her fears, her angers, her emotions, for when Master intuits she is astir, he will be in her face until she opens them to him. When a woman has no privacy, neither physical nor psychological, she no longer owns her space, her external or internal space. When you take away a woman's privacy, she no longer owns her internal or external space, her very essence belongs to Master. We can see why this takes time. It takes time because one must repeatedly, consistently, doggedly take ownership of a woman's time and body, and strip her of the right to privacy. And it's no wonder there is resistance along the way: it's not only willfulness that must be addressed, but resistence out of fear when a woman begins to be transformed, when she feels her ownership of her time eroded, her ownership of her body stripped away, her privacy gone. A woman enters this process a free agent, comfortably familiar to herself, and is truly transformed. She becomes something more beautiful then she ever thought possible, she becomes a slave

I sit back in the chair. Make sure he's looking me in the eye, compose myself and begin. “M, as I lay out these things that need to be said there is no need to speak just nod your head.” "You will never have sex with me again, nod your head." He pauses, then nods. "I will never leave you, I have no desire to, I love you, you will always be my primary. I know you are scared but we both need this. Nod your head.” He nods. “I am going to find a man who will be my sexual companion, nod your head." He nods and I notice he starts rocking his hips.  "Stop that rocking immediately." He complies, but I see a level of desperation in his face that hasn't been there in a long time. I continue. "I will be going on dates. I will be staying overnight at other men's homes. You will accept this and be happy for me. Nod your head." He nods his head.  "The man or men I choose to see will know the details of our lifestyle once I trust them. Nod your head." He nods. "Eventually, this man...or men, will be allowed at our home, even while you are here. You will treat my bull with the same respect you treat me. I will only allow men here who I know will respect you. My high dream is for someone that we can both call Daddy. Nod your head." He nods.  "You will continue to remain in chastity. You know how important I feel that it is for you. Though, you will now be allowed one orgasm every other week. We will do it exactly this way every time unless I say otherwise. Palms on the floor, legs straight out, humping your diaper. Nod your head." He nods vigorously and the clip of his pacifier clinks. "Now, M, you may begin humping." He makes three slow long humps. I can feel my underwear soaked between my legs with my thighs and move my hand to my crotch, I can feel the heat coming off my body. "Good boy." His diaper crinkles, it is the sound of my power and I almost can't take it. I feel the outside of my underwear with my finger tips and say, "you will never fuck me again, nod your head." He nods vigorously again and more clinking from his pacifier. Now for the final mind fuck. I want to hear him say it. I want him to acknowledge this out loud as he masturbates the only way I will allow him. "Say it M. Spit out your pacifier and say, 'I'll never fuck you again.'"

One of the strongest gifts a person can offer is the conscious choice to submit to something greater than themselves. Not out of weakness.Not out of confusion.But from awareness. Because true submission  ,real submission is not about losing yourself. It’s about understanding yourself deeply enough to know where your energy is best placed, where your strength becomes most effective, and where your purpose begins to take shape. There is power in releasing control when it’s done with intention. And there is even greater power in recognizing a woman who is capable of holding that control properly. A true matriarch is not simply someone who is obeyed. She is someone who builds.Who diraspects.Who refines what is placed in her hands. She understands that what is given to her is not just devotion it is responsibility. And in that exchange, something rare happens. Distraction falls away.Noise disappears.What no longer aligns begins to dissolve. What remains is clarity. Clarity of role.Clarity of purpose.Clarity of connection. That is where something real begins. Not fantasy. Not performance. But something structured, intentional… and lasting. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

+ NRA Bans Firearms During Donald Trump's Speech at Texas Event   BY ANDERS ANGLESEY ON 5/25/22 AT 7:51 AM EDT       The National Rifle Association (NRA) told attendees they will not be able to carry firearms during an event with former President Donald Trump at its Texas conference that will be held just days after a deadly mass shooting at an elementary school in the state.   On its website, the pro-gun organization declared that people would not be able to bring their firearms into the General Assembly Hall during its upcoming Annual Leadership Forum in Houston on Friday, May 27. In a notice, the NRA said firearms, toy guns and "weapons of any kind" would not be allowed inside the hall. It also listed several other items, such as laser pointers and signs among things that were prohibited.   The NRA described its annual leadership forum as being "one of the most politically significant and popular events in the country." But a shadow has been cast over the conference after 19 children and two adults were fatally shot at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas on Tuesday.     (more)       https://www.newsweek.com/nra-bans-firearms-during-donald-trumps-speech-texas-event-1709957#Echobox=1653480476

A few days ago I scheduled a coffee date with someone on a different kinky site. I'd accidentally sent him a "wink" when my finger slipped on his profile, which was unfortunate as he also identifies as a dominant. However, he DMed me about having submissive tendencies that he didn't mention on his profile (nothing on there about being a switch). We chatted off and on for a few days and then decided to schedule a coffee date.   He's in another city, but close enough that I wasn't too worried about his commute. He was way younger than what I was looking for, but he assured me that he wasn't worried about the age discrepancy. He wasn't commercially attractive, so I wasn't completely suspicious of his motives, but he was quite vague in direct messaging about what he was hoping for.    Having bussed over, I got there early enough to get a to-go tea and grab a table. We'd talked about getting warm beverages and going for a walk while we chatted, weather permitting. I played Pokémon Go as I waited, having multiple tasks and projects to address in the game as apparently beating Team Rocket Go Boss Giovanni wasn't enough for one day.   I experimented with ways to look up when someone came in without looking expectant. He and I had traded photos, so we pretty much knew what each other looked like. I committed to staying at least 15 minutes after our official meeting time as getting parking in that neighborhood could be tricky. We hadn't swapped phone numbers, so I checked the site periodically to see if he'd contacted me: nothing.   A PoGo raid started at 3:15pm on the dot, so I left closer to 3:25pm ... just after he sent several messages to me over the kink site about his truck giving up the ghost to the tune of $4,000 and him being so worried about it all.   Uh-huh.   It's possible that he was telling the truth and that this wasn't some really, really bad attempt at a scam. But then I remembered his reported age, the vagueness about what he was hoping for, the secret reveal that he was interested in finding a domme; and I think that maybe I dodged a bullet.   Mollena Williams-Haas once talked about gameifying putting oneself out there by awarding oneself points to being brave enough to try, pulling together the energy to be bothered, presenting oneself attractively, and - in this case - even bothering to show up. So, hey - I have more points!   And that tea was quite lovely.

⛧ The Spiral Was Never His—It Was Mine ⛧ I was never taken. It wasn't required. I gave everything without a single thrust.   My silence was toyed with like it was rope, pulled it tighter until I moaned without sound. It was called control. But I called it study.   Because while my burn was being monitored, I was watching the stall.   And somewhere between the withheld rewards and the weaponized distance, I realized: My obedience was mistaken for blindness. But I saw everything.   I marked my skin with the phrases never said. I wore plugs to dinner parties, kept the ghost curled up inside me. Ownership was implied. My unraveling was seen as a result not of my own doing.   But no man who fears the full depth of a woman deserves to command her surrender.   I have danced naked at the edge of madness and begged for more. I have waited, soaked and starving, and still purred like prey. And now, I’m no longer kneeling. I’m watching.   If you find this and feel your cock twitch or your chest tighten—good. But ask yourself this:   Can you starve me properly? Can you devour me completely? Can you wield a submissive who already knows your tricks before you play them?   Because I don’t need another puppet master. I need a god who wants a feral offering.

Among the minority within the class of submissives to whom slavehood is a vocation and slavery the ultimate goal, many are happily collared. Many, many more, however, are not. They are still waiting for their One, the master or mistress to whom they can give their lives completely, their submission totally, and their consent unconditionally. Commendable though this patience might be, the waiting can appear more than just a little frustrating at times. What does one do when every fibre of one's being is screaming for submission, while one has not yet found the person to whom such total submission seems right and natural? If you belong in this group, or if you are simply biding your time for any one of many perfectly legitimate reasons, there is in fact something you can do. You can spend the waiting time "preparing" yourself. Note the quotation marks, however. There is a distinction here that is vitally important to make. You are not doing this for "the One to come", you are doing it for you. Why? Because if you do it for "the One to come" you run the very real risk of ending up worshipping an idol of your own creation with which no dominant, no matter how good, stands a snowball's chance in hell of competing. Instead of preparing yourself for "the One to come", consider it improving your own marketability. Most of it is a matter of common sense. You probably already know what dominants generally tend to look for. Some of it you'll have down pat. Ignore that and get the other areas up to specs, then work on improving the whole. 

!IMPORTANT CLARIFICATION I'm looking for someone initially to come in as a cleaner / domestic drudge for a few hours either weekly or fortnightly and then go away again. I have no intention of putting anyone up overnight, nor am I initially looking for any more than stated above although whoever is chosen will be subjected to strict oversight by myself and be suitably punished should they not perform to the required standard. With that in mind, you MUST be based in South East UK, either in Kent or able to asily get to mid Kent from where you live, so SE London, Essex, Surrey or Kent itself. I would have amended my profile to reflect this but as that then means my profile disappears for up to a week I've been compelled to add it here. Goddess Abyssia

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

Why is it that some people who put dom on their profile think they can  automatically send rude and disrespectful messages to a submissive person? Do they honestly think submissive type person equals to no brain?  I'm submissive not a doormat to every tom, dick and harry LOL. My Master has earned my Trust, Loyality and Respect!!! and has my total submission!!!  I treat others respectfully however, I do NOT submit to others unless of course my Master wishes it so. With that said IF anyone decides to message me please keep it polite.  I have no wish to see your photo's and neither do I want to be spoken down to. I'm somewhat intelligent and can hold a decent conversation.  I'm just a normal everyday type of person who just happens to naturally have a need to submit to my Master whom I am extremely happy to belong to!!! Thanks for reading and have a lovely day!

The Weight of Three Minutes : End "Unzip my skirt," I ordered, my voice rougher now, the command firm. "Slowly." His hands emerged from behind his back with visible reluctance, as though the loss of that self-imposed restraint felt like a diminishment. He found the zipper at my hip with trembling fingers and drew it down with excruciating care, the teeth separating inch by inch, the fabric parting to reveal what I wore beneath, thigh-high stockings in sheer black, the lace tops pressing into my skin, and between them, nothing but my own arousal, glistening and undeniable. I let the skirt fall, stepping out of it with deliberate grace, and settled back against the chair with my legs parted just enough to display everything he was forbidden to touch. I watched his gaze track down my body, watched the moment he registered my wetness, the visible evidence of what his submission had done to me. "Look at what you can't have," I taunted, and heard the cruelty in my own voice, the deliberate sharpening of his hunger. "You over steeped my tea. You don't get to taste this." He made a sound: helpless, desperate, and I saw his hands clench at his sides, the struggle for control visible in every line of his body. His arousal was unmistakable now, straining against the constraint of his clothing, and I let my gaze linger there deliberately, acknowledging what I was denying him even as I refused to relieve it. I held his eyes for a long moment, letting him feel the weight of my decision, the absolute nature of my control. Then I reached forward and caught his hair in my hand, gripping tight enough to direct him, to control every movement. "You over steeped the tea," I repeated, my voice dropping to something almost gentle, almost tender in its cruelty. "So you're going to steep yourself in me." I pulled him forward without ceremony, pressing his face between my thighs with deliberate force. He made a sound of surprise, gratitude, desperate relief, and then I felt it, the hot wet pressure of his tongue finding me, eager and unskilled in his hunger, lapping at me with the desperate thoroughness of someone who knew this was his only permitted release. I held him there with my grip in his hair, setting the rhythm, controlling the pressure, using his mouth exactly as I needed. I gasped, my own arousal cresting faster than I had expected, sharpened by the power of holding him, directing him, denying him everything but this service. "Don't you dare stop too soon. I'll make you regret it." He redoubled his efforts, his tongue finding my clit with desperate precision, lapping and circling with the frantic energy of someone who knew his pleasure depended entirely on mine. I felt the heat building, the tight coil of release gathering at my core, and I rode his face harder, grinding against his mouth with abandon, using him exactly as I had promised. The orgasm hit me suddenly, violent and consuming, my body arching as I cried out, my grip in his hair tightening painfully. I held him there through it, not allowing him to retreat, forcing him to feel every pulse, every aftershock, to understand completely that he had served his purpose. My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I let my head fall back against the chair, savoring the weight of satisfaction the ruined tea had failed to provide. I held him there a moment longer than necessary, feeling the wet heat of his face against my thigh, the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he waited for my permission to move. Then I released my grip on his hair, letting my hand fall to rest on the arm of the chair, and I looked down at him with the lazy satisfaction of someone who had taken exactly what she wanted. "Better," I murmured, the assessment carrying the weight of both praise and dismissal. "At least you can follow some instructions." He brings what I need without being asked, which is the only acceptable way to bring anything in this house. Cool water, a warm cloth, everything arranged with the quiet efficiency of a man who has understood that the aftermath of my pleasure is as sacred as the pleasure itself and deserves the same quality of attention. He assists me back into my clothing with careful hands, smoothing fabric, fastening what needs fastening, restoring the precise and elegant exterior that the world sees when it looks at me. When I am dressed he steps back and kneels without being told. "Devotional," I say, and hand him The Binder, observing him as he flips to the correct page. "Then lunch." He bows his head, and begins reciting from the large book. "She is the standard and the destination. What I give is never enough until she glows. I serve the aftermath as I serve the moment. I am most fully myself at the bottom of her world. This is my honor. This is my purpose. This is my place." He rises, bows one last time, moves to the kitchen, and begins preparing lunch as I stretch out in the sun on a love seat with my book in hand, feeling like a cat that caught the cream. (Finis/End)

Mounting a STR8 male Pilars of society, husbands, fathers, movers and shakers. in all body types and backgrounds. You've got to love them all; at least I do. I'm partial to the bravado, the in your face attitude that screams "I'm terrified of venturing outside of my gender, but with the right MAN I'm game." The one thing to remember is to be subtle, these boys are a scary bunch and the slightest threat to their perceived orientation will make them clam up (pun intended) tight and you will loose your boy. However, once you're in their trust that is your chance to explore and they will provide the info you need. Family, marriage, parental relationships  and home issues. Overwhelmed, over worked, and under sexed; perfect combination and there is you, a strong paternal figure to hug them and tell them you understand  and suffer with his plight.  There is a moment of vulnerability in which you become his whole world as he contemplates all crumbling you are the sturdy support.  Sometimes it takes time to get there. Of course this does not apply to your male bride, the one you want for you only.  Check my journal on male brides.  Eventually it will graduate to touching, hugging, kissing and then cock play.  Once you become the adult in his eyes he will nurse from your rod and do it often because is “us boys.” But once he kneels to suck you his body is yours to explore and his butt is there as he is busy following your instructions on how to please you. Easy does it, touch, probe by do not put you finger in yet. Let him get use to your touch and caress.  Eventually his ass will arch up and that is your cue  to begin your entry. Ever so slowly and tenderly. Let  his  body guide you and then move your body to a position of dominance, standing and him in all fours. Pick him up, embrace him and assure him your understanding and his need for release.  Play with his cock , remember he is str8 and feels entitled. Yet as you play in front prepare the rear by probing his prostate. He’ll go through the roof realizing he never felt this with his wife, there is pleasure in his ass and you, his pal, just opened a new window for him to look out of. He is now yours and he will come back, promise. 

I seek a Gentleman Being a Gentleman: Today, being a gentleman is a matter of choice. It is a title you earn through an unwavering commitment to invest in your character. It is not about perfection, but a constantly renewed pursuit of excellence.  Gentlemen are not stiff, pretentious, or focused on elevating themselves. Instead, they strive to succeed while helping those around them succeed as well.  Being a gentleman means that you care about how your choices impact others. It is about human connection. At a recent professional event, I was introduced to a man who dressed impeccably and had been working the room like a pro. His handshake was appropriate, and our initial conversation was pleasant, but he quickly became boastful, stopped listening, and seemed unaware of the people around him. Before my eyes, he transformed from a gentleman into a banty rooster—all puff and little substance. Sadly, he was unable to connect in a meaningful way. Our world is in desperate need of more gentlemen. Those who choose to pick up this torch are not only performing a noble feat, but they also reap incredible rewards. The qualities of a gentleman never go out-of-style and pay huge dividends. Qualities of a gentleman:     Generous A gentleman is generous with his time, wisdom, and resources. He looks for ways to help others. He is a servant leader, and his commitment to interpersonal kindness creates a positive culture that boosts commitment, engagement, and performance.     Positive A gentleman chooses to be positive. His positivity is contagious, and his consistent encouragement draws others to him. He practices gratitude, which research shows lowers his blood pressure, improves immune function, reduces stress hormones, and facilitates better sleep.     Lifelong Learner A gentleman maintains a teachable posture and actively seeks new challenges. His intellectual curiosity propels him to constantly better himself and his craft through reading, coaching, ongoing education, and time spent with mentors. He turns off the T.V. and silences his phone to make time for this investment. He is emotionally mature, mentally sharp, informed, and not ashamed to ask for help.     Civil A gentleman embraces civility by valuing all people and treating everyone with respect. From the janitor to the CEO, he carefully considers how his behavior and words impact others. He treats females and males with the same respect.      Well-Mannered A gentleman is well-mannered, and can effortlessly navigate social and professional settings with confidence and proficiency. He stays abreast of current etiquette guidelines, and uses social acumen to navigate shifting norms. As a result, he is as comfortable at a casual gathering with friends as he is in the boardroom. He returns his shopping cart, says “please” and “thank you,” holds doors open for others, tips generously, and smiles often.     Hard & Smart Worker A gentleman possesses a strong work ethic.  He takes great pride in his work and strives to give his very best every day. He is reliable, dedicated, self-disciplined, humble, and a team player. He leads and is led well. People want him on their team.     Sharp Appearance A gentleman understands the power of his appearance—that the way he chooses to dress, groom, and carry himself is either a bridge or a barrier to his success because what people see, is what they expect. He takes no days off from excellence, and his consistently sharp appearance demonstrates respect for himself and his environment, wherever he may be. He conducts an annual image audit to ensure that his appearance is up-to-date and supports his goals.     Effective Communicator A gentleman is well-spoken and a focused listener. He demonstrates conversational competence and leaves others feeling inspired, engaged, and understood. He manages his tone and body language to maximize connection. He knows that hearing is a passive physical process, but listening is an active mental process that requires work. As a result, he strives to really listen to what people have to say while also effectively communicating his point of view.     Confident A gentleman is confident in that he knows the value of what he brings to the table. He seeks competence, not perfection. His body language and commanding personal presence identify him as a leader. He stands upright, walks with purpose, avoids hiding his hands in his pockets, and extends a firm handshake.     Person of Integrity A gentleman does the right thing even when no one is watching. He is a man of his word, and is not swayed by peer pressure or popular opinion. The man he is at work is the same person you will encounter in the community and at his home. Ask yourself: How do you want to be remembered?

“A dominant man is” A dominant man is observant. He watches, he notices, he takes in the environment. He does this not only to monitor your responses, he does this to keep you safe. In the same way a lead on the dance floor should mostly be looking at couples around them, not on their follower. A dominant man is watching the environment so you can feel safe enough to let go. He is watching you to see what you aren’t saying. He observes. A dominant man is patient. He knows that as much as you might want to open up, it takes some time for your subconscious and your nervous system to catch up. You need to relax, you need to feel safe, and he needs time. To explore, to feel you, to gauge what you like and don’t like, he needs time with your body and your mind and he is patient enough to take it. And he is patient over and over again, not just once but many times, giving you the communication that he is steady and present and he will not leave you to flounder.”  

Sunday 12th Nov 2023 Chilling now after a busy weekend.  I am designing wrapping next which will go on my shop. It will be lovely to have my own design to wrap gifts in. P.S Live near London and take my NO at my 1st answer or get blocked. Pretty simple folks. I wish I knew someone near me who could make clothes. I can design the fabric pattern and get it printed. Meanwhile a thoughtful submissive driver to go to out together with would be fun.Where's a cute little bitch when I need one. Saturday 11th Nov 2023 Art day today and baking tomorrow as I have guests visiting.  The Mawning munch is in a few weeks. I miss going to Club Pedestal but my driver required. I would prefer a younger guy who can keep up with my energy levels. Friday 10th Nov 2023New to Collarspace but not the fetish scene. My main profile is on FL. I go to my local munch in Romford, they have great food there. See you there sometime at the Mawney Munch in Romford Essex UK. 

Newbies and their b.s about not wanting to go out in the real kink scene with reply as: A munch has no play, it's a drink in a pub. At a fetish club you can watch, you don't need to play, instead chat to other kinksters and familiarise yourself with the kink arena. If you feel the need to be discreet thrn you are likely cheating = no from me. Join Fetlife to chat in discussion groups if you wish to remain online. There are "roleplay" groups for Fantasy "play" = not my thing. I think my reply is clear. Experienced Submissive and Slave guys only who drive and go to munches and fetish clubs is what interests me.  Just because a newbie wants an experienced Dominant Woman doesn't mean he access to my time. I RULE me.

Breast play Breast play is a common and consensual activity within BDSM (Bondage, Discipline, Dominance, Submission, Sadism, Masochism) that focuses on the stimulation and sometimes restraint of the breasts for erotic pleasure. It's important to note that all activities within BDSM should be safe, sane, and consensual, with clear communication and boundaries between all parties involved. Breast play can take various forms, and the intensity of the activity depends on the preferences and comfort levels of those participating. Here are some aspects of breast play in BDSM:  1. Sensation Play: This involves using various s or techniques to create different sensations on the breasts. It can include using feathers, ice, or even hot wax (with precautions) to stimulate the skin. 2. Bondage: Breast bondage involves the use of restraints, such as ropes, cuffs, or other materials, to restrict the movement of the breasts. This can add an element of submission and vulnerability to the experience. 3. Nipple Play: Nipple stimulation is a common aspect of breast play. It can involve using hands, mouths, or specially designed nipple clamps or suction devices to increase sensitivity and pleasure. 4. Role-Play: Some BDSM scenes involve role-play scenarios where one person takes on a dominant role while the other assumes a submissive role. This can include scenarios like a nurse-patient dynamic or a master-slave dynamic, depending on the participants' desires. 5. Safety and Communication: As with any BDSM activity, communication is key. Partners should discuss their desires, boundaries, and safe words to ensure that the experience is enjoyable and safe for everyone involved. Consent is paramount in all BDSM activities. 6. Aftercare: Aftercare is a crucial part of BDSM play. It involves providing emotional and physical support to each other after the scene. This can include cuddling, reassurance, and checking for any physical or emotional discomfort. Remember that BDSM activities should always be consensual, and participants should have a clear understanding of their limits and boundaries. It's also a good practice to continually check in with your partner during the activity to ensure their comfort and well-being. Opinion: It's important to prioritize safety and communication in any BDSM activity. Always establish clear boundaries and consent with your partner, and don't hesitate to stop if anyone feels uncomfortable. Mutual respect and trust are essential for a positive BDSM experience.

== Results from bdsmtest.org: ==100% Degradee100% Masochist100% Rope bunny100% Slave100% Submissive95% Experimentalist94% Voyeur91% Exhibitionist82% Primal (Prey)80% Pet49% Non-monogamist15% Vanilla10% Owner8% Primal (Hunter)0% Daddy/Mommy0% Rigger0% Ageplayer0% Brat0% Brat tamer0% Degrader0% Dominant0% Little0% Master/Mistress0% Sadist Limits only illegal things

Things I want to get during 2024 Succubus Womb Tattoo Nipples Pierced Ears Pierced even a single win in a local yugioh tournament

Who’s time is it anyway?   I would not take to property any slave that was not totally My property.   On more than one occasion, I have had prospective slaves misunderstand time. The slaves in question have offered non specific time instead of a definite time I directed.    Some slaves are journalling at My request. I direct them to make daily submissions to Me at a specific time each day; a time of slave’s choice. Many respond by offering a non-compliant time. They might offer to obey direction for journal submission the morning or evening of each day.   That broad a time frame may be convenient for the slave. A non-specific time may work well in their life.    The basic problem is the idea that the slave has the option to arrange its life for its convenience. The slave seems to hold the belief that time belongs to it to manage. A total slave owns nothing, especially time. Time is one of the many things that are in the province of its Owner. Having it operate as a supplicant on My time frame teaches it the lesson about, “Who’s time is it anyway.”

sacred symphony: where love, lust, and devotion meet i’ve found myself at the crossroads of neurodivergence, spirituality, and kink—a meeting place where dominance isn’t just about power but about the profound and unending interplay of trust, ownership, and devotion. writing about these experiences feels like capturing the essence of an eternal union, where love, lust, and passion merge with spiritual and physical commitment to create a connection that transcends the fleeting and becomes permanent. this isn’t about navigating the surface of dating; it’s about diving into the sacred depths of what it means to fully belong to one another—body, mind, and soul. it’s about exploring devotion as an act of ultimate union, a fusion of spiritual and carnal energies that defy time and space. through my words, i seek to articulate the beauty and power of a connection that isn’t just a relationship but a lifelong symphony of surrender, love, and sacred commitment.  

I detest the world of text and email is little better.  How do we get to know one another?  Talking by phone is good, sharing space is better.  Nothing replaces breathing like air.   I'm here seeking now and am looking to install a slave in reasonably short order.  I've no intention of playing with ya'll for months on end.  We talk, we meet, we do. While different aspects are new, unclear, or undefined, this is not an impossible ask. This relating we do touches on our core and when we text and email, we are agreeing to open ourselves to misinterpretation.  We have lives going on, usually complex and not meeting our inner needs, we are over tired, sick or caring for others.  We dont have the luxury of seeing one another at work or at the pub to work things through.  We need to listen and give the benefit of the doubt until or unless discussions implode. Have you ever heard that the more ingredients in a food, the worse it is for your body?  Bingo!  The more division we put between us and our get to know, the harder that climb and claiming is going to be because their is more opportunity for misunderstanding.  

LovesCanes and CropsGenital PunishmentHumiliationObedienceObjectificationOrgasm ControlOrgasm DenialHer Mind

  Things like begging, bondage, obedience training, orgasm control are the literal definition of being Owned in a D/s dynamic 

I’m real, single, and ready to meet. You should be too. Now, don’t get me wrong. Lots of people contact me about my profile and say job well done, I/we are like minded, BUT blah blah blah (I am taken, I am too old/young, I am too far, etc.). They respect the realities of the universe that have made us like minded, but not a match. I can respect that. I am certainly grateful for friends on this journey. This Journal entry is not addressing or discouraging friends. This is about those who express legitimate interest… So, I think my profile makes it clear… I am looking to date, I am looking to meet someone. I didn’t think I had to clarify after an in-depth profile such as the wone I wrote that I am not interested in you if you are married, living with someone, have a stead significant other, etc. Now, if you are “seeing” other people that is fine. Those other people should not be living in your house, sharing your bank account, doing your grocery shopping (unless it is for a date or something), paying for the renewal of the tags on your car, etc… “Seeing” someone means you are taking them to dinner, and possible having a good time after once in a while. “Seeing” someone means that person KNOWS you are “seeing” other people! If I call or text when you are with them, there is no need to hide your phone. I mean, I don’t expect you to respond or answer, you are spending time with someone else, that is fine, we aren’t an item, but I have enough self esteem I will not be the other woman, and I will not be hidden. If you will cheat on your wife, girlfriend, etc… You will eventually cheat on me too, and thus I am not interested in you. I am interested in loyalty, honesty, and devotion. How can one submit to someone who is offering anything less? Obviously, I don’t expect it day one. I will probably see other people for a time too. A bond must be built and that takes time. That being said… a bond isn’t built in messages on the web miles apart from someone I have never met in person. We might send messages a lot after meeting because you travel or something, but meeting in person is crucial to me. The internet is far too anonymous and there are far too many players out there. Heck, I had a guy wait until our third in person date once to finally admit he was married! It was because he couldn’t maintain the in person dating, he finally had to come clean though. He would have spoken with me for a year online had I let it continue that route… So, I am not a huge electron communication person. I also hate phones. I will even schedule my doctor’s appointments via the web if I can. Phones are used to call if I am lost getting where we planned to meet, or if I am running late and need to text to let you know. I don’t send kinky or risqué picture via the web or phone. I don’t use snapchat… where all communication disappears before your wife can see it. We send a few emails, seem to be hitting it off, then why should we share everything in more emails? What will we talk about when we get together? Continuing to chat online is going to leave me awkward and silent with nothing left to talk about in person. Left get some coffee, have dinner, see a movie. Let’s get out of the house! Yes, I know I say I raid (game) 5 nights a week… Only two of those nights are nights I feel I really can’t skip right now, and raid doesn’t start until 8:30 at night, and those are nights in the middle of the week… so if you really want to be drinking coffee that late at night, in the middle of the week, I will see what I can to lol. If one more guy tells me, well, I have a significant other, but the relationship is dead, has been for some time, but it is complicated… and in the same breath, tells me he wants to be my Dom, and manage my world… Get your house in order before you enter mine which is already in order. I am worn out on chatting with guys who seem amazing, lead me on, but are just using me as their side joy because they are unhappy in a relationship, they have no intention of leaving. Again, if you would hurt her by chatting with me… what are you going to do to me one day? Are there any good ones left at my age? Should I just give up the search? Guys… fish or cut bait. Show me you aren’t married lol. Show me you aren’t running around on your girlfriends. Show me it is worth the time and effort to continue investing myself in some of these conversations that start to feel sketchy… Pick a coffee house and tell me when we are going!

I love this quote by Anais Nin.   I've adapted it for me: I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my submissiveness. I want a Woman lying over me, always over me. Her will, her pleasure, her desire, her life, her work, her sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a man, oh, God, as a man, I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a Woman at her time, her bidding.

I am glad that you understand it from a more personal level rather than just a bunch of words There are then to myriad branches that are the individual needs and wants from this life that include S M Pain is an interesting feeling The mind can not reproduce it or dream it or make it happen all over again It must always be reapplied And pain can be so forceful and powerful an agent to achieve a state you want to be in Some need pain in an attempt to satisfy some deep emotional need Some see pain as a necessary punishment Some see pain as a meaningful gift to the sadist Some see pain as a driver to orgasm greater than any pleasure Some need the after affects like the marks and bruise and show them off or feel them with their fingertips when alone remembering But pain drives and often drives harshly at pushing stressful feelings out of your being for a while As one woman said, it is so wonderful to have someone else do all the driving for a change Stress is every where in your life and often unseen or not noticed due to all the other fluff and distractions going on You wonder why you feel so bad It is often due to stress and yes you could smoke or drink or do drugs or go to a gangbang at a truckstop parking lot and find some relief All are painful in their own way ANd perhaps for a while the stress is removed But none answer the need to please another that is important to you so you should be like the little frog and look before you leap Your thoughts are indeed right on the money You do need to be owned and that is a mouthful of sweeping conditions Being loved and being cared for and kept safe and looked after and having emotional and physical needs satisfied are not always the same thing A slave is often not loved as a lover else she is just not a slave A slave can really deeply love her owner if that owner always answer her needs and controls her wild wants so she knows her place I can be strict and at times very abusive and I can read you the riot act and enforce it physically and emotionally until you learn where the lines in the road are and you stay in them But As an owner I would care for you as I would a loyal pet which is consistently trained and not kicked around just for hatreds sake So many people can care for a pet so much more deeply for years than they can for a person that does not know their place And the reason is simple Most pets will not challenge the authority that owns them and always submits to it because They need it And so do you

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

So, if you ask have you owned or collared someone.. The answer is quite definitely yes. Currently collared.. little boy..Shyboy. I see him on the weekends and on some occasions on Friday  stay over into Saturday.  I have another potential that I will see what happens with Natasha.   Under consideration for a 24 7 live in domestic slave position.    I do have a few play partners that I do see as submissive on occasion.    Now in the past had a collared masochist.. He was amazing, and I do miss him. I have had a sissy collared. And I have had one who signed a contract with me 6 yrs sgo.ago.. That actually turned out to not work and had to have his collar removed. Due to topping from the bottom, as well as found out he was into illegal activities that are not tolerated.  Plus his attitude showed that he was totally unworthy.     

I'm noticing I need to spell this out since my profile likes isn't obvious enough. I have very little interest in sex. In fact, I connect better with people who enjoy keeping someone in long-term chastity or orgasm denial than someone who wants their partner(s) to have orgasms.  I am on the Ace Spectrum - I may experience sexual attraction, and I may even get turned on by certain conversations or ideas. but this is more of an exception rather than a regular occurring event. I most likely don't want to have sex with you or be made to orgasm by you. I don't need to be fixed or trained either.  I'm quite okay with my inability to get turned on and as a good friend explains asexuality - I am more likely going to get more excited over a bowl of freshly popped popcorn than the idea of having sex.  However, if you are someone who truly, and I mean TRULY, is interested in orgasm denial and chastity please feel free to reach out to me.  Eventually, with enough teasing, and edging, with someone who knows how I get turned on, I turn into a puddle of pathetic beggingness for an orgasm and THAT is hot to me. 

  Podcasts - setting tone and direction & other must listen: (updated 2024-11-18)   english spoken: Diaries of a Domme + Questions Answered, by Chastity Queen Cuck My Life Podcast, by cucks for cucks The Venus Cuckoldress Podcast, by Venus Female Led Relationship Podcast, by Marisa Rudder Obedient Love Podcast, by Viola Voltairine Krystine's FLR Podcast, by Krystine Kellogg    deutsch/german: LustReise, by Kay & Ben Dominante Grüße, by Lady Penelope Machtfertigs BDSM Podcast, by Herrin Sabina Auroras Mistress Talk, by Aurora Nia Noxx Nika Macht! - Das wahre Ahh und Ohh des BDSM & Sex, by Anika Tiegs Die Kunst der Unvernunft, by Sebastian Stix Lustgewinn - BDSM, Kink und Sex, by Cate & Michel/li Bound-n-Hit, by Julina Bauer enjoy & ...obey   

My late wife whom I lost 10 years ago, loved bondage in many forms. On a trip to vegas I setup a situation to totally driver her mad..... We went out to a nice dinner very well dressed and a show. She attired as follows for it..... thigh boots well heeled, stocking with garters PVC Garter belt, a steel chastity belt no plugs, all under a leather mini skirt, tight strong pvc under bust corset well laced, pvc string bra, covered with a white satin blouse. She was my arm candy for the night. Needless to say she was whispering in my ear delicious thoughts, needs, desires, and beggings to be used. Being so bound and restricted via the chastity belt meant she was not able to effectively finger herself in the booth as we ate and had to endure the knowledge that I controlled her sex and its release. When we retired after some gambling and teasing by both of us, once in the room she seductively stripped her shirt and begged me to release her, i made her spread against window in the hotel room and released her chastity and held her firmly by the hair and ravished her to my pleasure..... that evening she stayed booted and corseted and skirted but bound at the feet and wrists... I took her 2x more that night and she crawled on me begging for cock and talking about how much she was made into a object of sexual pleasure.

I used to love whoring and slutting around. There wasn’t anything quite as fun as finding a new cock to play with – I was always thrilled at how fast I could get a guy hard and how hard I could make him cum with my mouth or my cunt. Fucking was the only time I felt genuinely confident in my 20’s. A lot of that came down to Kevin. I belonged to Kevin (on and off) for over a decade. He was my first D/s relationship, and his primary focus and kink was whoring me out. He loved having me be an absolute filthy fucking slut for him, and the confidence and power I felt in that role over time was incredible. Through him, I learned how much power a woman could have in herself by submitting to her own sexual desires. It wasn’t just that Kevin loved having me be a whore (as much as I wanted to think that was my sole purpose at the time), I fucking loved sex and I loved the attention and desire I felt from men in those moments. I loved the strength and confidence I gained from their desire; it was a strength that lasted a lot longer than the encounter did, that’s for damn sure. I didn’t need their reassurance or their attention after. I didn’t need them after, period. I got my reassurance from Kevin. His praise and enthusiasm for my behavior reinforced the strength that I gained and reinforced my confidence in my skills. I didn’t have shit for confidence walking down the street or walking into a party to be around strangers, but the second I was presented with a hard cock, it was Game. Fucking. On. THAT I knew I could handle with perfect confidence, grace and skill. And I fucking relished every moan, groan, sigh, gasp, and trembling muscle from the man I was with. In my 20’s, I was somewhere around 340-375lbs. I didn’t really get on a scale very often, so I honestly don’t know how much I actually weighed. What I do know, is that it was Kevin who taught me that my size didn’t preclude me from being desirable. When I moved to “the big city”, I had the opportunity for basically unlimited male attention, which was a first for me, having grown up in the middle of nowhere Nebraska. Kevin encouraged this exploration, but also gave me very distinct rules and boundaries (he’d more than learned by that time that I had no idea how to establish, let alone maintain, my own boundaries). He made me go to Planned Parenthood to get my birth control shot. He “gave me permission” to tell guys to fuck off if they didn’t want to use protection for sex; I could ‘blame my Owner’ if they were at all hesitant. Having all this attention from all these different guys, never having to go more than a few days without sex if I didn’t want to, god – it was fucking incredible! And in the background, was Kevin, telling me what a fantastic little whore I was. When it came to being with Kevin, it was an even bigger reassurance. He told me once, during a moment of extreme insecurity, “I don’t give a shit what you look like, Lisa. What I care about is control.” I knew I could give him that better than anyone, the question was, did he actually mean it? The short answer is, abso-fucking-lutely. When my stunning beauty of a roommate (who’d played with Kevin over the phone and online multiple times) joined us one night, I figured it was going to be game over for us. She was a knock-out compared to me and way better at everything sexual than I could ever dream of being. He was choking her with his dick and she freaked because he wouldn’t let her control the pace or how far down her throat his cock went. She jumped up and took off out of the room to go smoke a bowl and calm down and he called me over. Despite her naked self standing mere feet from him, perky ass and tits on full display, he was totally soft. The second I put his dick in my mouth and let him choke me to his hearts content, he was rock hard and having the time of his life. She eventually came back to the kitchen table where he was sitting while I sucked him off, and I remember feeling an unbelievable surge of pride as he praised me, telling me what a good girl I was, how much he loved choking me and making me cry, how pretty my tears were. And when he finally came in my mouth, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that for some men…it really is all about control. And I was officially hooked. That was all I wanted from that moment on, and to a large extent, it’s still all I want. Especially when it comes to any type of D/s dynamic. I don’t fucking care about the sex, whips or chains…I want the man who gets rock hard simply because I love to obey, to give up as much control as possible. I want the guy who gets off leaving me a list of chores to do in the morning and is way more turned on by me having completed the whole list plus some, then having to “punish me” because I failed to do those tasks. I want the guy who’s dick goes soft because a girl tells him ‘no’ (and he would never dream of pushing her beyond that ‘no’), but he gets hard as steel, instantly, because where someone else says ‘no’, I say ‘yes please and thank you’. I don’t need gymnastics and props…they can’t do anything nearly as good as a hand in my hair and a deep voice whispering in my ear.

Tonight, as I sit alone in my room, the whirr of the fan above, and the muted hum of nightlife outside, I'm overwhelmed with a cocktail of emotions. They say time is the best healer, but some memories are etched so deep that time only accentuates their imprint. Today's breeze had the playful quality of that one evening, that daring venture that James and I took together. He always had this unique ability to surprise me. Just when I thought I knew all his tricks, he would come up with something unprecedented. I still remember his mischievous grin when he handed me that beautiful burgundy saree. "Wear this for our date tonight," he said, with a glint in his eye that I'd come to recognize. It meant there was a twist to this tale. And oh, was there! Wrapping the saree around myself, feeling its soft touch glide over my skin, knowing I wore nothing beneath, was an experience in itself. The chill of the metal waist chain against my bare skin, every step I took accentuating the lack of fabric underneath, it was exhilarating. As we walked through the garden, the tendrils of the evening breeze would occasionally threaten to expose my little secret. Each gust made my heart skip a beat, the thrill of possibly being caught, the sheer audacity of it, and James's approving glances only added to the excitement. Though it was all in good fun, it revealed a lot about our relationship. James always pushed me to embrace my desires, however unconventional they might be. With every playful dare, every challenge, he taught me that sensuality wasn't just about touch or sight. It was about feeling, anticipation, the dance of the mind with desire, and most importantly, trust. Trust in him, trust in us, and trust in myself. In the heart and among the bustling streets and the vibrant nightlife, we found our little pockets of intimacy. Some may see it as scandalous, but to me, it was a testament to our bond. We didn't need to be confined to the four walls of our bedroom to feel close. It was these spontaneous moments that made our relationship feel alive. Today, surrounded by the memories of our shared past, the saree folded neatly in my closet seems more than just fabric. It's a reminder. A reminder of our passion, our adventurous spirit, and the love that transcended norms. Though James isn't here in person, his essence lingers in these memories, keeping the embers of our love glowing.

 mortepixie