Protocol Party Ideas   Low Protocols that are public-friendly.• sub refills the Doms drink.• sub not sitting until the Dom sits• serving the Dom before the sub.• sub not eating until the Dom starts• etc. Medium Protocols are usually seen at kink parties.• sub sitting on floor next to the Dom.• sub saying yes Sir/Maam.• any type of service including play. etc. Then there are High Protocols. These are actions the sub is not to question. They are done quickly and respectfully.• sub is not allowed to speak.• sub can't look into Dom's eyes.• sub stands at attention.• sub walks behind the Dom.• sub obeys all orders.• etc. These are just a few examples of protocols. When beginning to use protocols remember to start slow. Try one or two to begin with and discuss whether they are working or not. It is very gratifying when protocols are used. The sub is pleasing the Dom and the Dom is proud/pleased with the sub. Now that's a turn on. 😁

I used to think hrt pellets was not really viable  I think they are a brilliant tool for forced feminisation if there is to be no games.    I used AI to inform me, us. It’s also given Master some serious ‘weapons’    Pallets  offer several advantages over patches or injections for MtF hormone therapy, providing steady hormone release for 3-6 months with minimal daily effort.[medicalnewstoday +2] Steady Delivery Pellets dissolve gradually under the skin, delivering consistent estradiol levels directly into the bloodstream without the peaks/troughs of injections (which fluctuate weekly) or patches (which can detach or vary with skin absorption).     This mimics natural hormone production, potentially leading to smoother feminizing effaspects like fat redistribution and mood stability.[alluremedical +3] Convenience and Compliance  No daily patches to apply/change or weekly/biweekly injections— just a quick in-office insertion every few months, improving adherence for long-term therapy. Users often report preferring pellets for this set-it-and-forget-it approach over messier gels or adhesive issues with patches.[queerdoc +2]  Additional Benefits Bypasses liver processing (unlike pills), may enhance energy, libido, and bone protection with fewer applications overall. Note: Pellets are often compounded (off-label for estrogen HRT), so monitor levels with a specialist.   One key advantage of estrogen pellets is that once implanted, they continuously release hormones without interruption, essentially putting feminizing effaspects on “auto pilot.”    This means the therapy works steadily and reliably without daily effort or forgetting doses. Even if you wanted to stop temporarily, the hormone release will continue until the pellet naturally dissolves over months, ensuring consistent feminization throughout that period. This steady, long-term commitment can bring peace of mind for those seeking a smooth, hands-off approach to hormone therapy.   Over the first 6 months after estrogen pellet insertion in MtF hormone therapy, feminizing changes unfold gradually as the pellet releases hormones steadily (about 1/3 in month 1, tapering over time).[pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih +1] Months 1-3 Skin softens and becomes less oily within 3-6 weeks; breast buds/tenderness emerge by 2-6 weeks. Emotional shifts, reduced erections/ejaculation, decreased libido, and subtle mood improvements often start in 1-3 months, with early fat redistribution to hips/thighs.[transcare.ucsf +2]  Months 4-6 Breast growth continues (typically A-small B cup max for post-puberty starters); muscle mass decreases for a softer appearance; testicular atrophy and slower body/facial hair growth become noticeable. Monitor blood levels at 4-6 weeks for adjustments, as full early effaspects peak by month 6.     Using a chastity device alongside estrogen pellets in MtF HRT could accelerate permanent erectile dysfunction (ED) outcomes by preventing erections, leading to faster penile disuse atrophy and fibrosis from lack of blood flow and tissue oxygenation.[cagechastity +1] Mechanism HRT already reduces spontaneous erections; a well-fitted chastity cage b

Many times I get the question about what happens when two tops meet. The concept of two dominant males sharing some sort of intimacy seems contradictory, after all no one conceives a dom without a sub. That is not always the case and I will, like in all my journals speak from experience.  There is a degree of power exchange between Doms and I do not talk about silly posturing and drama. If two dominant males find themselves alone and aware of each other,s preference coue of things will happen. Like I said there are degrees of asserting domination and sometimes one will yield and becomes submissive to the more dominant male.  There are reasons for this behavior, one is the overwhelming realization that amongst equals there is alway a better masks and truly no shame comes from realizing and internalizing that fact. I'm not implying the the more submissive is and will be a sub the rest of their life, no. What I am saying is that recognizing g who is the better man is what defines the boundaries of intimacy.  I have friends that have their fair share of submissives but once in a while they will come to me to serve and be bred. after, back to being a top. But why this behavior? Like I said overwhelmed by.  Dryer male they yearn to serve and be intimate. If a dime submits must be to someone better than them and someone they appreciate both as male and Bull. The other scenario I've experience is that broth being powerful males and bulls there is no submitting.  How then is that encounter? What I have experienced is the act of respectful admiration of each other bodies and rods. Eventually, it will get to self exploration and release by mastication. There is no phisicl contact but the admiration that can only a true bull can bestow on another bull.  It is very intense to have two powerful males together, alone, and horny. Their mutual pheromones make the atmosphere thick and  eventually there’s only one way out, taking matters in our own hands. there is no mystery, two males will do what comes naturally and either occupy their place or remain on top gloriously alone. That's the natural order of things. 

What I have learned from messaging with Slave Masters who actually know the proper techniques for taking a person and transitioning them into a submissive, gay, loyal slave who is happy in it's new life of slavedom and has no thoughts or regrets for leaving it's previous life of freedom to domestically and sexually serve and service a Master as owned property. The Slave Master who knows how to dehumanize the slave-to-be uses sensory deprivation, hoods, and calculated pain with restraints and whippings and ass spankings to break the potential slave with feelings of hopelessness until the slave yearns for Master to teach it to be happy with calculated release from the pain ect and slave learns Master's Routine and Protocol. Once Master has made slave aware of it's postion to it's Master, then Master can begin Training slave to be a slave. slave now willingly accepts it owes it's care and existence to it's Master. slave is kept restrained but is not like a prisoner in jail or like when the Roman Empire took captured soldiers as slaves and treated them brutally. . The slave slowly learns it's function is to work to please and pleasure it's Master. slave will even learn to thank it's Master for the periodic whippings  and ass spankings  by sucking and servicing Master's Dominant Cock after each Whipping and Ass  Spanking as a sign Master is pleased to have a loyal slave.

Here is an open thought. I am not on this site to find love. I have been loved, I have been engaged twice to the same man, that was a wild ride. I am not the type to have kids, however I can see myself adopting the runt of a litter who has no hope and a limited future and share my survival skills to make the runt the front runner in life.  I have always loved being the assumed underdog in life. I am a working professional so I will expect a man I try to connect with to be the same. I am not interested in a person's bank balance or assests, honestly none of my business. I do expect a man who is in my company to not be a cheap skate and I have met a couple. I am not expecting to be bought but I do expect if a man wants a BORN women who enjoys her feminity I should not have to spell out make an effort with flowers, make an effort with running the bath, make and effort with you see a pretty dress or skirt and think I know ONE women in my company who would look good in that. I appreciate men contact me and offer they want to be one of my two men but when I ask you to unmask yourself and tell me who you are, I want to know I am not inviting an unkept, unwashed, unclean, diseased, unemployed dread of society into my world or my bed. I don't think that is a hard ask. If you want to see my face not an issue, I do WhatsApp and you can even video chat for all I care but if you make me jump hurdles I will make you jump the same bar.   C

This success of this site is based on transparency. You're a 52 year old dominant man in Miami who lives for NASCAR and wax play. Super. Got it. In my opinion, the level of effort you put into your profile directly relates to your commitments. It's so odd to see someone say that it takes forever for profiles to update so they take the lazy approach and update a journal entry. Yep, I said it. Lazy. Dom or sub, doesn't matter. You've gone to the trouble of creating a profile to find someone for whatever reason. Now you aren't willing to commit to the effort it takes to update for accuracy. The only effort needed is a bit of patience. Patience to adjust your information. Patience to adapt your description to make you more interesting, or at least approachable. I'll write more later... No, you won't. Someone who might be looking for exactly you is going to pass you by because now you're 56 and moved to Sheboygan but won't update so they'll never see it. You're shooting yourself in the foot. Not that anyone asked me. 

i am pretty sure he's done with me.  No idea how I'm going to get through this feeling of failure.  I don't think I possess the ability to move on.  He owns every part of me. My thoughts are wrapped around him, our interactions, our love.  I don't surrender temporarily. I don't quit just because things get hard. I never have.  But somehow I'm supposed to quit him? Quit us? And just carry on? The very thought is viscerally painful.  I miss him. He still won't talk to me. Not even to tell me one way or the other.  On FetLife he's still listed on my profile. I suggested he remove it if he was done with me, that it would give him a way of telling me without the need for direct contact, if that's what he wanted. He is still listed.  All I know is, it's going to take the death of hope to let him go. 

Looking to be inspired  A mediocre Dominant tells. A good Dominant teaches.  An excellent Dominant explains, but a true Dominant will inspire.

A lot of people here are searching for their self.  I appreciate this and encourage it. I am not searching for myself.  I know who I am and what I am looking for in life and in partner(s) - I SEEK PRESENCE.  I SEEK SERVICE.  I SEEK COMMITTMENT. I am POLY.  My household and those whom you would be serving are TWO WOMEN - MOTHER AND MYSELF.  Service to mother is doing anything I would do for her. I am POLY.  I choose to have relationships with MORE THAN ONE MAN AND UNDER THE SAME ROOF.  Do not contact me if you cannot handle being part of a FAMILY. SAFE SANE AND CONSENSUAL - RISK AWARE - NOTHING UNHEALTHY UNSAFE OR ILLEGAL.  CONTRACTS get to the nitty gritty of the outline WE follow in our engagements and where we may draw outside of the lines.  They also discuss YOUR CONTRIBUTION(S) to our home, STD's, Emergency Contacts, Health status and a lot more. YOU SUBMIT TO ME.  That means YOU start the process with WHAT YOU SUBMIT TO.  Dont come to me stating you will do anything or with your list of likes.  Come to me with a readiness to live this life REAL TIME FULL TIME WITH A FEMALE HEAD OF HOUSEHOLD. If you are looking to life a life, chained up in my basement, eating my scraps from a dog bowl, or better still only eating shit, you better come with a handler as well.  Be of genuine and sincere value to this home and to me and my family and be seeking to belong to a family.              

I'm so happy to be back on Collarspace. This is where it all started for me....about 10-ish years ago when I was just finding out about BDSM and really exploring my kinks (which is currently still evolving)...With that being said... being here is so nostalgic because I've met some amazing people here over the course of years. I'm especially excited to run into some old friends here. So a quick story time....years ago when I was here one of my friends from MIDDLE school found me on this site (not really sure HOW) but we had really good conversations and he talked about the way I use to treat him in middle school as far as being very bossy, dragging him around, TELLING him that he was my boyfriend made him KNOW that he was meant to be a sub/slave. It really put a lopt in perspective for me too because it showed me that this was in fact a n inherent part of my personality....to dominate...to take control...to be the boss...and it came to me so easily...so long short, I'm hoping that i run into this guy here again that would be amazingggg... either way I'm looking forward to the connections I foster this time around. 

When any male decides to go to a Slave Master to become a gay, submissive, life-time slave it needs to be thoroughly and properly broken down from all it's humanity it thought it had in it's life before going to a Slave Master . Once the slave is broken and reduced it can then be trained as a slave and once properly trained as a slave it will be ready to serve any Master that takes it for Permanent Ownership. From that point on there are no choices and no turning back and the slave is a slave for life. This slave is now gay and submissive and ready to serve and go where ever it's New Master takes it. it will be honored to service it's Master's Dominant Cock!!!  it will drink Master's Golden Nectar/Piss, and eagerly swallow Master's Precious Cum as often as Master demands and desires and expects   slave to follow this routine Protocol of it's Master/Owner. slave will submit without question to all body modifications Master may require. slave will perform all mandatory protocol/duties each day. slave will be grateful to it's Master for all that is required of it. This includes Master's punishments and when Master just feels like Whippingor Spanking slave for His Entertainment which also serves to remind slave of it's subjugation to Master's Dominance and Ownership. slave is a slave and has no tittle or name anymore and will always only be known as "it" or "slave"

My Master naturally controls my sex life. I'm not allowed to plesure myself without His permission; interestingly, He prefers that I don't wear my chastity cage: He says He wants me to build my self control and deny myself willingly for Him.   I am proud I am able to do this not just because it means I'm doing what I'm told but because it's a way of showing Him how much He mans in my life. When W/we speak on Skype though, and I know He is watching me (even though Master chooses not to tun on His camera), then He allows me to dip my hand into my panties and play with myself. That positive reinforcement between meetings with my Master and sexual pleasure is very powerful at many levels. At a purely physical level the association is fairly clear, but I also like the psychological dimension - the idea that I only get pleasure when He gets pleasure (from watching me). It's so helpful in weaning me away from my old fake life in which I thought only of my own pleasures and accepting my new slave life where my pleasures count for nothing. Only Master matters.    

Damn it. What is the magic elixir of who can Dominate me? Whether or not it's mental or sexual, it's like a freaking black hole for me! I think some of it must be a drop of humilation, control, power exchange (but it's much more then that, cause if a Dom tried that on me and it's not a good fit, I'll just laugh) as much as I resist that thought, it's apparent to me these days that some part of being out on a limb mentally, so to speak, is very exciting to me, and if done right, gets me very wet very quickly, and into a deep sexual submissive space. But really, it's not about orders, calling me certain names, it's about the mental game! But what *exactly* is that? Power, control, authority, desire, masculinity.  I would love to have a smart and savvy Dom talk to me about this!  Recently I meet a Dominant on here that, in all honesty, had me at a hot panty drop within a week! I mean, seriously, he unleashed my libido. It was HOTTTT. It was sexy! Why was he so different?  And he wasn't the first; I've met many Doms that could get me to undress with a look, I so craved their attention and needed their desire. But that was it. It was so obvious that other than sex we had virtually nothnig to talk about, no realy mutual connection of any intellect, no lead up, aftercare. So frustrating! So I fucked and masturbated like a frenetic sex doll for as long as it lasted, crying into my pillow for a Dom that would also engage me mentally on a subject other than his hard cock. I mean that's wonderful, great, but I need more. I want to travel, to deeply engage and talk, to explore the bigger life, to get out and make fantastic adventures, make a home.  Can I have both? Is it possible to find both? Can we find both?  I'm trying so hard to share and give the keys to this kitten to someone worthy! I'm tired of the dichotomy. Fuck my brain, my heart, my pussy. I know you're out there! 

This profile is severely out dated and with the current way that it takes forever to get your account re approved and reviewed , im worried about loosing contact with amazing people , so im updating here first.     Ok firstly this is no longer a Dominant profile , I gave it a go for a partner but it was not for me .   I much prefer the slave lifestyle and to be owned n controlled , and I very heavily prefer the absolutely sadistic and more intense Experiences all the way around.    I'm seeking  a Hellashish amount of CBT , and would absolutely adore it if I could find an owner or  owners that would want to use me partially or fully as their personal toilet .      Open to.relocation , although it'd have to be a live in , even if out in the barn , type of situation.    I'm very open minded and just want to find a home that will enjoy torturing and hurting the every living bajeebus out of me on a regular , who would benefit from my labors. Skills and dedication of time , energy and life to them.

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

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

DOMINANT WOMEN BEWARE! Well, Mr. Beenhere25yearsandf*ckingwithdominantwomen contacted Me again.  I have a feeling he has made a full time job of this shinnanigans.  Contacts women or waits to be contacted, then has a 3 month relation, then disappears due to multiple guardians (LOL), dual citizenship (USA/UK), testing on his ALIEN DNA (LOL), OH LORD the list and LIES gooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooe ON AND ON!  Then someone else contacts you, given your name from Mr. Mindf*ck, and you quickly realize it is the same person!  Back and forth, round and round, LIES AND MORE LIES.  Emails from yahoo, aol, gmail (his favorite) and forget about it now that AI and ChatGPT have arrived.  He is a vertible keyboard warrior.  Dont be fooled if given a phone number.  You'll work for it, oh yes indeed and it will again be a series of shoots and ladders!  He is a L I A R, F R A U D and he even has ropped in a person or two for his mind games.  Can you imagine somone playing at this over 25 years?! If I have said it once, I've said it 100 times - verify verify verify and don't put one ounce of effort into another submissive man until HE PROVES HIMSELF TO YOU!  Phone, in-person VERIFICATION.  And this goes for the other wankers as well.  Even the ones who send a copy of license and passport.  Only in person, face to face, contracts signed and skin in the game proves a mans worth.

Male wives, sissification, forced bi, and forced fem (from Fet) This is a long overdue update to a previous post. It felt kind of vague when I first wrote it 6 years ago, but with new insight, I'm going to attempt a bit of clarification. Why am I looking for a male wife? I only experience initial primary sexual attraction to a very narrow subset of people (thanks, demisexuality). It shortens the extremely lengthy process of friendship and emotional compatibility leading to sexual attraction. To me, a male wife is more of a genderfluid, androgynous, or crossdressing AMAB who doesn't rigidly adhere to stereotypical gender roles in real life. Some buzzwords may include metrosexual or femboy. He finds enjoyment and comfort in incorporating stereotypically feminine roles, attitudes, and attire, just as I do on the masculine side of things. He craves the freedom that comes with true gender equality on all fronts. I think I have more in common with heteroflexible, bi, or pan guys (I, too, like men), but I'm definitely not turning away straight guys with a healthy mindset lol Anyway, he's generally also more confident in himself and open-minded in regards to exploring gender identity and sexuality in kink as well. If not, he's actively working on eliminating misogyny, misandry, or elements of toxic masculinity that may be causing him to struggle in his life. There's no sissification, forced feminization, or forced bisexuality. If this is you, contact me :) Why is sissification a hard no for me? Unfortunately, there's an element of misogyny and mockery of women related to sissification. Before you say "not all sissies", please keep in mind that your counterparts are badly misrepresenting you. Personally, sissification gives me old-school minstrel vibes. A select few minstrels put on blackface and made a point to use it positively to honor and represent black people in a way that most white audiences had never experienced. Unfortunately, it was overwhelmingly used by white men to mock with offensive caricatures and harmful stereotypes for the pleasure of themselves and their audience. Think hard about why sissification is so prevalent in a subset of domination that's supposed to be woman-positive. It concerns me because your extremely loud counterparts seek a dominant woman, yet appear to believe that being a woman is somehow inferior. Are they honoring women by honestly representing us, or are they using it as a way to mock us with caricatures of ourselves and harmful stereotypes? Are they using that internalized misogyny to fuel their humiliation kink and to entertain their audience so they can all get off to it? (and before you come after me, I'm both black and a woman - so yes, I can make these comparisons and they are definitely fair) When I see so many people who identify as sissies looking like they just stumbled home after drinking heavily and puking in the bushes at a frat party, it's disheartening. The makeup is clownish and smeared, the outfit is hideous, the wig is terrible and crooked...it's just a mess, and it truly hurts to see ourselves represented this way. It's humiliating to us and to them, and I understand that humiliation may be their kink, but their future dominant may not want to see someone dressed as a caricature of themselves. This is likely why sissification doesn't sit well with the majority of lifestyle dominants, and they may not be able to explain it past a basic "ew, no thanks." Why are forced feminization and forced bisexuality a hard no for me? There's misandry and aspects of toxic masculinity related to forced feminization and forced bisexuality. There's rarely any true "force" involved. Instead, there's a great deal of transferring emotional responsibility to the dominant to avoid feeling guilt for enjoying something they feel societal pressure to dislike because it's not considered "manly." I am completely uninterested in incels, alphas, or whatever ultra-toxic pick-up artist crap is going on out there. 2017 version of this post, titled "Comparison: Male Wife vs. Male Partner in FLR" To me, a male wife is more of a genderfluid or androgynous man who doesn't adhere to masculine stereotypes and has no issue with it. There's no need to feminize him as he's already naturally more feminine in mindset and/or body than society prefers. When in womenswear, he prefers looking as natural as possible and eschews excessively frilly "sissy" wear. He doesn't call himself a sissy, either, as the term has a negative connotation for me of "femininity deserves humiliation and mockery." He's generally also more confident in himself and open-minded in regards to exploring gender identity and sexuality in kink. In summary, if I tell this man he looks beautiful in a dress, he'd accept it as the compliment I intended. If this is you, send me a message. On the other hand, a male partner is more stereotypically masculine and more reticent to explore gender identity and sexuality in kink without being "forced" to, e.g. forced bi, forced feminization, forced sissification. There's a great deal of transferring responsibility to the dominant to avoid feeling guilt for enjoying something they feel societal pressure to dislike because it's not considered "manly." It concerns me because they want a dominant woman, yet they believe being womanly is somehow inferior. In summary, if I tell this man he looks beautiful in a dress, he takes it as an insult or believes that I'm trying to humiliate him - which will either turn him on or repulse him. I'm not interested in this guy.

6/5/2024 6:33:05 PM All set with game players and time wasters and dream killers.     I don't lie, cheat or steal.   I am looking for the right slave.  Correction, I am looking for a right connection and a decent human being who knows how to treat a woman, and wants to explore together.  A right male is MORE THAN ENOUGH to be by My side and in reasonable good time.  I am looking for a live in relationship, not email, phone or text. I'm dominant and that isn't going to change.  I feel no threat from a man who knows his mind and has the ability to speak up for himself and be a team player.  Welcome.  We can co-rule our own little world together.   My mother lives with Me and has Alzheimer's.  You serve Me, you serve She.  You are with Me, you are with her.   Be real and ready to communicate effectively and get to know one another in the flesh.     Be terrific in your own right.  I require a man who is strong enough to champion Me and I offer nothing less in return.    DON'T WASTE  MY  TIME.

just noticed they finally brought journals back, so I thought I would take advantage... What is your purpose of being online?  Mine is simple, to get to know others in the lifestyle, to see if any can not only meet my expectations of as ub slave but also understand how they can fit in my busy life. If I need to invest MY time into fulfilling your online fantasies, then I am simply not getting anything of value out of speaking with you.  it is one thing to discuss limits and interests, to gauge compatibility,  it is another to feed your fantasy with no return for my pleasure... at least that is not for me.   Still think you're here for the same reasons as myself?  Great, but here's the thing, would you walk into a job interview unprepared? Similarly,  why approach a Domme if you are not prepared... mentally or physically. I don't expect much from those who message me, atleast not in the beginning, but I do expect you to know why you are here, that you are prepared to speak, with the hopes of serving, and that you are honest and forthcoming, not just with Me, but with yourself. So, why are you here?

How to know if you should write to me. If you are tempted to put the abbreviation HMU in an email to me. Save yourself the trouble. Don't write. If your profile or email uses the abbreviation NSA. Don't bother. If you self identify as an adult baby. I'm not interested. If you self identify as a slave. We're probably not compatible. If you self identify as a bull. Save yourself the time. Don't write. If you actually read my profile and are interested in more than the pretty pictures. Please write. If you have met me in the past, online or in person, and want to renew our acquaintance, please write. If you read my journal and you know the passphrase, please write. If your interest in me goes beyond your next fap session, please write. If your profile or email includes the phrases female supremacy or TPE, keep on trucking. If you feel the urge to tell me about wanting to worship my pussy. Go away. If you use the term breeding to describe your interests in bareback sex, you'll want to save us both time and not write.

A Raven and a Wolf   He sat, kneeling really, slowly panting, under a soft leather hood. It was laced tightly, almost preventing his every breath. And in the darkness, under the hood, he strained his ears to hear whether she was near, or far. He inhaled, trying to find her scent, but could only smell the leather of the hood. He tried to feel if he could sense her presence closer, but nothing. The air was still. His mouth, dry from nerves, with lips slightly agape, didn't utter a sound.   So he waited, arms bound, shoulder back, chest forward and exposed. Uncomfortably upright.    She sat before him, watching him lazily, like how a cat does with a weakened mouse, very still. A hunter and their prey. She was breathing evenly to hide the excitement pooling inside of her. Hands encased in buttery soft lamb skin gloves, the color of his hood, the color of her whip, the color of blood. The color of her lips. A red so beautiful. Her eyes sparkled at the idea of it coming from his body. Beautiful and broken. She could sense he was searching for her; a slight turn of the head, listening, perhap? Leaning forward gently; trying to smell? Like a dog, she thought, just like a dog. And she sat there far longer than even she desired to see how far this "dog" would go.    "Bark, dog" she commanded in a low voice  And he barked immediately, no hesitation. She pulled back her hand and slapped him, his head jerked, body lurched, chest rising and falling rapidly. A noticeable difference between his legs. There it was again, a hunger to bite into him. Taste his blood. Consume him. But only silence. No whimper, no moan, not a sound escaped him. She wondered if he were bleeding from his cute little mouth. Again she slapped him. Softer than the first, a loving caress, bits of his hair peeked through the laces of the hood and she wanted to grip them and tear them away. Would he let her? Perhaps.    The next slap, and the one after, opposite hand, and he fell forward just enough that his face touched her thighs only separated by the hood and her own stockings. The rule was he wasn't allowed to touch her unless she said. This was a broken rule, however accidental. She stood and let him slump forward in a stupor, supported only by the tension of the rope tied to the foot of the bed.   Bark, dog. Dog. He barked.  Up, dog, and he returned to his previous place, exposed and upright. She stepped forward, the toe of her shoe pressing down on the sensitive flesh of the head of his dick. She crushed it gently until he sat even straighter. She held his head in her left hand, caressed it gently, leather on leather. The smell intoxicating her. Raising her right hand she slapped him again, over and over until her hand grew hot even under the glove. Was he bleeding? She hoped so. She hoped to kiss him and bite his lips and taste his blood. She wished she could see his eyes, dazed, glassy, far away. She caressed his head. And whispered, "you may touch me" and he pressed his face into her hands, her thighs. Still no sound, he was so silent.   "Bark, my handsome boy" and he barked, hoarse and painful as she encircled his neck with her hands. This was his idea, he had inspired in her a lust for choking him until he was nothing and drifting away in the ether. She squeezed, her hands perhaps too small, until he gurgled. She wondered if his eyes were open or if they were dimmed. The hood obscured so much. She squeezed until he seemed to go limp. And she let him. Shoulders yanked uncomfortably under his weight.    He awoke. Arms aching, face hot but no longer enclosed by the hood. He could see her though his vision lacked acuity. She was standing over him, wrapped in pink except for gloves. He yearned for them then. Yearned for them to be around his neck, feeling the bones of her fingers threatening his very life. He wanted to ask for it, for her to choke him, strangle him, but knew it was to her whim that he obeyed. Obeisance was her pleasure. He looked at her, eyes soft, left cheek swollen, lips split ever so slightly and she leaned down and kissed him, sliding her tongue over the drying blood. He kissed her back, gentle, but hungry.    Her kiss was soft but grew more passionate until she bit him and suckled his mouth. Did he love this part of her? The softness before the sting.  She broke the kiss. Her lipstick perfect but her mouth and chin stained crimson with what must have been his blood. "Open your mouth, I'd like to try" she said softly. A shy whisper. So unlike the command to "Bark".  He angled himself upright, head back, lips parting painfully like a little bird. She leaned forward and let her own saliva pool in her mouth and slowly let it fall into his. He shuddered. His excitement excited her and she kissed him again before he could even swallow but this time it was wild and wet. Her saliva all over his mouth, chin, cheeks.    "I have to whip you now, are you ready?" She asked and he nodded. A question was not a command to speak. Dogs do not speak unless commanded to speak. She untied him and his body fell forward. Not used to its old range of motion. His limbs buzzed from having sat in one position for too long. He wondered about how much time had passed. Funny thing, time. Why did it matter now when he was in the moment with her.   Without the hood he realized he could smell her. A warm sweet scent, perhaps arousal. And he thought then about being forced to please her like they talked about in passing, forced until exhausted and even beyond. After play. Her, in her pink, looked like candy and he wanted to lick her. She must be sweet.      She looked down at him and his face was peculiar, his mind was somewhere else and he looked rather cute. But she was jealous at the idea that his mind wasn't on her and she kicked him in the stomach to bring him back to her. He coughed and curled up as she walked to retrieve her whip, preparing for the next step in her courtship.  "Up" she commanded and he got to his feet, winded, bruised. Arms still behind his back. She released them to tie them around the post of the bed. The bed post being the whipping post, isn't it somehow romantic, she thought.    "If you need me to stop, tell me, I won't be gentle otherwise" she said to him, her mouth on his ear. His hair was slicked down with sweat and he smelled musky. She liked his smell. She bit his earlobe and stepped back a couple of feet and threw the whip. Lash after lash until he tried moving away. Pulling at the post until it creaked. She wanted him to cry but he only moaned and groaned, no tears. Just a brow drenched in sweat as his back went from fine pink lines to slowly oozing wounds. If he didn't give her tears then she would have blood.  He pulled desperately as if trying to escape her and she threw the whip furiously, lashing whatever she could reach, his ass, thighs, calves, neck, even the back of his head. The post groaned as if it would break under the strength of him trying to flee.   "Do you want to get away from me?" She asked. His breathing heavy, labored, his body wobbled as blood poured from him, he shook his head no, weakly, and looked over his weeping shoulders with hazy eyes. Finally he spoke, a clear and clean "No, ma'am" from his lips now dry from mouth breathing, swollen from having been bitten and slapped.   The no rang through her body and she leapt at him and kissed and licked his mouth, his shoulders, his back. Barely containing her arousal, her hips moving in slow circles. She was so hungry.&n

June 2024 All the years that have passed since my last entry and I'm in an insane mirror world where I'm trapped with him again. Choosing the kids again. My soul is gone, there's no love and laughter to greet with, no holding hands and thrilling looks, no anticipation... of good or bad. I am still No longer in steel, proof how I'm undesirable. He is a hollow shell, a ghost of who he was - all he was. The man who hobbles through my apartment is bitter, broken, deeply unhappy.... the attitude has become apathy, the confidence has become bitterness. The grief muscles cover his face until he's unrecognizable and the missing limbs make him think something inside is missing too. What once was powerful now is pitiful and whatever we once had; faded memories. I try to force him to leave, but he laughs as he curls up on a chair outside with his laptop... homeless yet not in the least. the kids scream at me about why can't I just be a good wife, a good cook, a better housecleaner? Why can't I just shut my mouth and let him die in peace? (Though they know i may go first) They can't understand the sorrow in my empty eyes and as he revives again in simple motions. They also don't understand... the hate, the rage, the abuse, the ugly words and texts. Neverending abuse I lived through for more than decades to TRY to give them a dad. They can't see what I go through - both good and bad - every time he rounds a corner. The way I flinch when his head whips around or the way I refuse to put my back to a wall... anywhere. They don't know I remember his magic hands on my body or the best friend by my side for decades. They don't see when we smile at a shared memory that it hurts both of us.  They blame me, as well he's taught them. Hell, I did right, but I blame me too. I've tried, so. Fucking. Hard. For years to forgive and forget. But when his hands grab my neck I react, when he gently touches me, and I know what pain is next, i can't stop freezing. When he kisses me and I sob.... he walks away with a look of disgust, hate, retribution. Away enough to hear me cry and beg forgiveness, enough to hear me beg to be his again, no love even, just property. Beg for the gag, the collar, the pain, the burns and broken. The plead for the hood so I don't see him and he can't see me. To even be taken, this life from the kids in exchange for death or use. Anything but this horrible hell I suffer every single day.  But what is it a sadist wants? REAL PAIN. What is more painful that making a slave a single mother? Anything more soul destroying to hear her beg to choose you over them, to see you've won. They don't want her, they want you. To hand her the loaded gun and laugh that she won't pull the trigger because she won't leave the kids with that final thought.  My mom destroyed my childhood, but in disliking herself - my mom ruined my life too, by taking hers.  I can't  

My outlook on D/ s is a process the first choice is your choice to be sub and mine is Dom.  We agree to a form of power change and define what our power exchange will cover. Then first and this is what mater what are the strengths of the sub, attributes like in your case humor. Plus as many as we can define together.  Same for weakness. Must improve. What is off limits. This can take time but worth it. As we discuss in depth we both learn our foundation is the sub .  What is good we encourage growth . Bad we take steps to modify the goals a road map to achieve. It is now the Doms role to fit his own strengths into reaching the subs plan to make them shine and excel.  . The kink, discipline, rules and reward system a Dom is the same as a good Dad, a Boss .. maybe therapist. Except A Dom has kink as a tool...  I have been a father, a boss trained countless people and Dom came easy . It's an honor to have anyone put faith in me. It then puts tremendous pressure on me to take them to where they envision not my vision.  It may feel to them it's my vision .  In the end most have understood and were gracious thankfully. Don't know why I am sharing .. did.   

              Pop That: Unpacking the Brat, Bimbo, and Babygirl Archetypes in Lightskinkeisha’s Anthem some people would look at this song called pop that by the rapper lightskinkeisha as just a ratchet trashy song and move on from there. it is ratchet, but there's more to the picture going on here if you choose to see it.   if you look at the artist lightskinkeisha as a little girl or babygirl this song no longer becomes just a trashy ratchet fun song, but an anthem for an identity within the lifestyle. an anthem of a brat.   the song itself is bombastic and dance y and very bubblegum gritty. but if you take the song and put it through a transpose app or use a tool to transpose it and make the pitch of her voice higher and the speed of the song faster, it transforms it even into another identity if you choose to see...the bimbo.   and so we get the three way combo with a simple song pop that...   babygirl   bimbo   brat   the great thing too is you can look at it individually from each of these lenses, or you can work on seeing it through two at a time, or you can look at it with all three.   people sometimes forget that while someone can be a babygirl that is also a bimbo and a brat, that just because you are a brat it doesn't mean that you are a bimbo, and that some bimbos are also little girls too. i personally don't really live in this world most of the time. but sometimes i have a bit of a brat behavior to me behind the keyboard as the writer. but i like to write about various sides of what the identity of a little girl is. and when i consume media, i see the different sides of what a babygirl is, even if it's not directly relatable to me.   because this is a fun silly pop bop there isn't much to decipher from lyrics wise. while i use esoteric and spiritual references for pop media i don't pull things out of thin air just for the content. however, there are some stanzas' i'd like to focus on.   Big Bank Beisha, bitch Tre Trax, I think we got one, haha It's Trax season bruh   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   when it's a song that is over the top the themes are going to be over the top. one might be initially put off at the focus on her getting men to spend lots of money on her but if you reframe it in the bimbo/brat perspective it makes more sense. she's an exaggerated version of femininity, she's talking about the guy in an exaggerated version of masculinity. and if you see it in a brat frame it's also her testing her boundaries with the guy. the entire rambunctiousness is all about how far can she go before getting 'caught'. how much can she push before it's too much. how wild can she be before she tips it over and breaks it. i see these less about a materialism, and less about superficialness and more about brashness, boundaries, bodaciousness, and crass. especially in a closed relationship it's seeing how smart can you get before you consensually get punished, smacked, talked back to, reprimanded.   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma throw that ass back and shake it in a circle (damn) Got your man lookin', yeah, he like the way I work it He gon' blow some racks on me because he know it's worth it (blow it) Body snatched with a face to match, call me perfect Daisy Dukes on, bend it over like Ms. Parker (hey Ms. Parker) Pretty redbone, bitch, I'm badder than a toddler Drop it to the floor and make 'em spend their last dollar All this milk that I'm shakin' make the boys wanna holler   while you could say that lightskinkeisha's reference to badder than a toddler is randomized if you look at her bigger pieces of work it makes sense why when this comes out i squeal with joy. it's a reference of being seen. it's an aesthetic, it's a insider's throwback to if you know you know. she has many songs that reference daddy for the male partner she sings about. and she often references the dynamics of the songs with a power dynamic power scale going on there. an uneven power balance by choice where it's not an equal relationship.   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that,   I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   Booty, make it bounce, I'ma drop it (drop it) Shake it so fast, I can't stop it (stop it) Make him wanna hit it like a Bop It (twist it) Bust it wide open, I'ma pop it   I'ma look back at it while I shake it on his lap (lap) Got a big ole booty, you can give that shit some dap My pussy taste like Fiji while your pussy taste like tap (Fiji) When he slap that booty, bitch, it's gonna bounce back (haha)   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it u

When I say I want local people to serve, I mean it. If you write to Me and don't meet My requirements, I do not OWE you a response. My profile clearly states what I want, and ANYTHING other than that goes in the trash can. I get stood up, and I do not expect a WHY. I get ghosted, and rather than be some stalker, I never write them again. It is easy to move on if YOU want to move on!  

Normal is Weird Normal/typical/average is relative. Normal only exists in comparison, and for anything, there's probably "somewhere" where it's "normal." This is the internet age... there is something for people who share anything in common out there somewhere, and the ability to make it if there isn't. I don't know why people sometimes get an idea of normal in their heads, putting it on a pedestal and elevating it to unattainable levels, constantly comparing and defining themselves in comparison to that concept. Stranger still, why is it that so often those ideas of normal are so damn boring?! Anything really good (or bad), anything exciting or even different at all, wouldn't be "normal." You could only be normal if you were the same as most people around you. Normal seems just some shape/box to contort myself and my life to fit into. That seems like a lot of painful effort for little to no reward. Not to metion how much of it is beyond my control. My dad was 60, my mother 30, when I was born. Totally not normal. Totally beyond my control. Totally fine... great even... they were both wonderful, amazing people who taught me a lot and gave me many happy experiences, and I value happiness. I'd much rather be happy than be normal.

That Moment when You one day saw A Black Raven hopping on Your GrandParents' Front Lawn so You went to check it, it kept hopping away from You & made it to & through The ChainLink Fence but not before You noticed It Was Missing Its Right Wing & Right Leg.     🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯     #MeanViciousPitBullsAcrossTheStreet?

Woman on fire:   In a world of soft whispers and gentle caress, There exists a woman, fierce and undeterred, With eyes that ignite like fire, she stands defiant, A force of nature, her spirit unyielding.   Her words are sharp, cutting through the silence, Her presence commands attention, demanding respect, She paves her own path with unwavering determination, Unapologetically herself, unafraid to be seen.   In her hands, she holds the power of conviction, A warrior in her own right, unafraid to take a stand, For she knows that her strength lies not in submission, But in the fire that burns within, a beacon of aggression.   So let her be, unbound by societal expectations, For she is a force to be reckoned with, a woman of aggression, Tearing down walls, breaking free from constraints, Unleashing her power, unapologetically fierce.

Guys be like, “men are visual creatures.” Ok mr, than why do you look like that? Maybe a lotta fellas don’t have mirrors at home. I had to be honest with a male  yesterday and explain to him that a lotta times the women THEY WANT, that don’t want them, might not be due to their financial status. A lotta times us women might not find you physically attractive (men never wanna consider this). Although your grandma and momma been telling you how handsome you are your whole life (they’re supposed to BTW) That doesn’t mean that women who you cross paths with on a daily basis look at you and think,“yea, I’d like to feel his penis inside of me, or be romantically involved with him”. This explains why it’s some not financially stable men that stay with a fine ass Boss Chick. Some men can get outta prison Tamar and be living with lawyer in her water-front condo & driving her Benz truck within a week.

 myworld15