Okayeeeeeeeeee Conducting interviews for live-in.  I don't have time or energy to spend on anything outside of finding the right fit for My home so please, unless you are applying to serve full or part time ASAP, pass Me by.  Let's get down to the nitty gritty... Rolling interviews conducted now and at My time of convenience.  Considerations will be made but I have a short fuse where lack of communication is concerned.  Seeking FLR, TPE 24/7/365 live in.   My search is two fold - for Myself and as an extension, for My mother. Regular service includes preparing meals, maintaining home, and personal care for all.  Full time care attendant for mother.  She is fully functional, simply unable to reason out sequential action and with cognitive impairment for decision making.  She cannot be left alone, loves music and dancing, educated,  a lady (with a fresh mind) and beautiful in her own right.  Specifically, I seek a person who would primarily be responsible for watching over and serving My mother so I may proceed with My own endeavors.  My mother will not be controlling you.  You will belong to Me. Once you make contact, be prepared to discuss your distance and how you intend on getting to Me, your current work requirements, all.  We move to phone interview, inperson interview and trial run.  It IS that simple.

THE NIGHT I MET BRIAN, part 1   Towering over most people at 6'8" (in boots), he was hard to miss. Every time I looked at him, he was already staring at me. Due to circumstances at the time that I'd rather not get into, we'd nod an acknowledgement to one another, but never spoke. Tall, skinny, a bit on the younger side, he bordered on awkward, yet simultaneously confident. Our first real conversation happened online, on a BDSM board called Recon. I didn't realize I was chatting with him at first, though the height in his description made me wonder. He was polite when he contacted me. He used complete sentences and asked thoughtful questions. Once we traded photos, we both had a kind of "wow, it's you" moment. Then the conversation turned to what we were there for. Are you interested in doing a scene? What kind of scene? He told me he'd already had fantasies about tying me up and making me worship his (size 14!) boots. He certainly knew how to talk to me and keep my attention. He'd observed me several times observing his boots, a very astute observation for a 25yo. (Even moreso for someone his real age.) We discussed what we wanted in a scene, what we didn't want, as well as sexual fantasies, past experiences, things we'd like to try eventually, etc. We agreed on a scene that would involve bondage, humiliation and boot worship, but not sex. Although we were not averse to sex (and were very much sexually attracted to one another), we agreed that focusing on our mutual interests in S&M would be more than enough to satisfy us both. After some discussion and negotiation, I was ordered to show up at a designated address (later in the week, following more nodding and flirting and anticipation), wearing head to toe leather. Once admitted inside, I was to kneel submissively before him and let him take it from there. As when I saw him before, he was dressed in military fatigues and combat boots, which I would come to learn was his everyday look. He started off by admonishing me for being late. I wasn't late, but I also wasn't inclined to start off the scene arguing with him. He reached down and with a single finger, pulled the collar of my leather shirt away from my body, not-so-subtly surveying what would be his for the next few hours. He asked me a few innocuous questions while cuffing my hands behind my back. He made the cuffs tight enough to be unforgiving, but not so tight as to lose circulation. He picked up my backpack and asked if I'd brought everything we'd discussed. He dumped the contents on the floor and picked up the leather slave collar he told me to bring. He held it up to my neck and said, "I like it." He made the collar as tight as the cuffs, but not so tight that I couldn't breathe. He definitely knew what he was doing. Next came the blindfold, something we hadn't discussed. After a momentary freak-out, I decided not to protest. Aside from being against the rules, I really wanted to see (ha ha) where this was heading. He had given me a vague idea of what was in store, but left the details to my imagination. I'd entered his house through the back door, which was closer to the basement. Bound and blindfolded, I was led carefully down the 4 stairs to the awaiting basement where I'd spend the next few hours under his control. He sat me in a chair and proceeded to bind me, fully leathered, in layers of rope. Rope around my chest, around my legs just above the knees, rope around my ankles. Tight, restrictive and unforgiving. He knew how to tie a good knot, later revealing that he honed this skill during his time as a boy scout. ("Yes, I did learn something useful in the scouts!") What he did next was unnerving. He pulled up a chair and sat right in front of me, staring in silence. For the longest time, I could feel his eyes burning into me, but he said nothing. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Now that he had me all tied up and helpless, was he reconsidering? Time seemed to stretch on forever. Just how long had we been sitting there? I couldn't stand it, and finally spoke up."Sir?""SPEAK!""Sir? What can I do to please you, Sir?""YOU CAN SIT THERE AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!"Now, I've known since birth that I'm different. But I cannot describe how turned-on I was by being told so forcefully to shut up. I briefly considered apologizing for my transgression, but that wouldn't have been shutting the fuck up, now, would it?He continued to stare at me silently, then abruptly stood up and said, "I am very disappointed with what rung my doorbell. I'm going to let you sit here and think about that." I could hear him walk slowly up the stairs, turn off the basement light and slam the door shut, leaving me, leathered and bound and blindfolded, alone in the darkness. Left alone for what seemed like an hour (it was actually 20 minutes), my imagination ran wild. I could hear him walking back and forth upstairs, possibly to taunt me? At one point, I started to wonder if he'd forgotten about me. But then I could hear the distinctive sound of his boots hitting each step as he re-entered the basement. Each step made me hornier with anticipation than the last."Miss me?" he asked as he rubbed my leather-clad crotch, running his strong hands firmly up my chest, and then through my hair. He asked me a personal question, which I attempted to evade, until he grabbed my hair and jerked my head back. "Michael, when I ask you a question, you answer it, promptly and honestly. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sir!" Surprised to learn that despite all the rope, I wasn't actually tied to the chair, he lifted me out of the chair and gently set me face down, still blindfolded, on the concrete floor. After a brief pause, he ordered me to lick his boots. My cock lurched in my leather pants at the command, but no sooner than I laid my tongue on his boot, he pulled it away and walked to the other side of the room. "I'm over here, Michael," he taunted. Still fully-leathered and tightly-bound, I started to wriggle my body across the hard, unforgiving concrete floor, thankful for my leather padding, toward the sound of his voice. Moving was laborious and exhausting, but I eventually arrived at this awaiting boot. He moved a second time. I hesitated. "MY BOOTS AREN'T GOING TO LICK THEMSELVES, MICHAEL!" Right. So, I once again wriggled across the concrete floor in the general direction of his voice.He didn't move when I arrived at his boot for the third time. Humiliated and horny, I ran my tongue along his size 14 with greedy hunger, coating it in a thin layer of my saliva, only able to imagine the shine I hoped it left behind. I switched boots when he commanded, and having coated the foot portion in my saliva, was running my tongue up the boot shaft when I noticed that he'd started breathing heavily. Was he jacking off?  Had he abandoned our "no sex" agreement? As if reading my mind, he said in a clipped and mildly breathless manner, "I want to fuck you.""OK," I responded. "Do you want me to fuck you, Michael?""Yes. Yes, I do." I could feel my precum slickening the thong I wore under my leather pants.He pressed his size 14 between my shoulder blades. "You mean, 'Yes, Sir, I do.'""Yes, Sir, I do." I was about to fucking burst!"I need you to say, 'Yes, Sir, I want you to fuck me.'"I knew he was asking for consent. Although I would've enjoyed it either way, I was relieved that he asked for consent. This meant that he was not a psychopath."Yes, Sir, I want you to fuck me." Things hadn't gone exactly as planned, but flexibility is a crucial life skill.   continued

Am I a monster? by Sintara » Sat Dec 05, 2009 12:21 pm I am a female sexual sadist. I spend hours on end fantasizing about torturing men. I don't hate men, I love them actually. The more I like them and the more I feel sexually attracted to them the more I want to hurt them. Nothing turns me on more than the whimpering sounds and wincing facial expressions they make or if they cry. I also find myself turned on if I see a guy limping. Its even more exciting to me to see other people who care about them feel sorry for them when they see the injuries they have later. I would love to be able to torture a guy and then send him home to a loved one and get to be a fly on the wall so that I could watch that person feeling bad for them and trying to help them.I obsess over CBT. My fantasies get pretty extreme. I know that there are many sexual sadists out there but I feel like a monster because my fantasies are so extreme. I feel guilty because despite feeling like a monster I also feel a strong desire to find a man who is masochistic enough to allow me to do these things to him. I try not to think about it but I can't stop. I can't get sexually aroused without picturing suffering men in my mind. I collect pictures of injured and tortured men to look at so that later I can have sex with my husband without him knowing how sick I am.I also have a blindness fetish. I would like to find someone who would agree to wear contacts that made them blind so that I could watch them try to make their way around without sight. I would also enjoy hurting them without them being able to see when it was coming. I might make him complete tasks for me blind so I could watch him struggle. With contacts instead of a blindfold I chould still fully see their facial expressions, which are very important to me. Then I would be aroused enough to have sex with them. I would want them to still wear the contacts during sex so I was in complete control.I'm so tortured by all of this because my husband called me a "sexual psychopath" and I have to hide it from him now. It has ruined our sex life. I'm addicted to it and don't know what to do. SintaraConsumer 4 Posts: 92Joined: Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:57 amLocal time: Wed Apr 20, 2022 12:37 pmBlog: View Blog (0)

October 2024 update: Residing in AZ Tempe/Mesa area - On Fetlife as well if wish to interact on that medium.  Quick updates. Health is healthy. All testing up to date as of Oct. 11th 2024. Negative and clean bill of health. CollarSpace is still ancient on profile updating I see. Life updates - Worked as a caregiver for a decade did hospice care, they all have passed on. Planned the funerals for those without families. No longer wish to continue the health care route.  Went into the Trades. Got a job offer out in AZ and leaving CA late November early December. Great second career path and I’m happy to be in a new state with a feeling of newness. Can’t wait for my first monsoon and AZ heatwave.  Notice some profiles here. Bad submissives - Happy to say I paid off every debt and loan ever accumulated. Got new car in full. Coming into a new state with living expenses paid for half the year. Saved up. Will be nice working, learning, and saving.  About me physically - I’m 5’9 and have a smooth/waxed body with a smooth bubble butt. Somewhat above average at 7’ thick cut with low hangers. I am a submissive and like older Dad types. Dad bods. Pretty private. Attractive.  Generally more passive or submissive. I enjoy fitness, health, and exploring new things.   Into 1950's D/s servitude lifestyle of doting and pampering. Enjoy being slightly bullied, pushed around, asked to do things/chores, under foot, subservient younger/Dom Scenario with a Guy -  Enjoy breath play particularly during oral as well as being an overall submissive. Not only just in the bedroom but with him in general; taking notice of his interest and hobbies. Using that to find ways to please him until he feels satisfied with the disappearance of nuance stresses that plague all of us everyday. Having a Dom relax and not worry what he does or says and takes a breather without having to refocus on his sub and their needs is what I like. I get along well with confident dominant types.    Getting to the point where I lower my inhibitions and use my body to bring out the gratification he deserves. To the point where I relax and allow myself to be taken under his control.  I'm a sub male in general. I workout towards a tone fit build over big muscles to have more of a streamline body. - Male/boy. Nice features. This site is a pain on updating anything. 

 MistressMaguire 

Compelled  compelled to Dominate Men. No matter how much she tried, no matter what she wore, her mirror, overwhelmed her with Dominant Femininity. An aura of command perfumed the atmosphere. Exotic, clinging, rising upwards from her hips. Intoxicating any man foolish enough to look in her direction.   With greater frequency and intensity the Dominant Cravings filled her heart with glee.   Experience taught her that the less she cared about her object of submission, the greater her excitement and consequently her satisfaction.   By encasing the object in a leather or rubber hood, it became a flesh and blood pleasure unit. A thing to torture. A quivering, drooling, grunting and sweating thing. She panted with laughter at the thought of her wicked ideas becoming reality.   She had but to dial the phone to summon a pleasure unit. Satisfying to be sure, however, not nearly as much fun as putting a vanilla subject under her heel.