Are there straight , masculine,  professionally successful men that would willingly be committed to become a slave/submissive in a FLR TPE relationship ?   I am earnestly curious to know if those type men exist out there. Most RT inspections I have chosen to set them up as dates. Quite interesting to see who's willing to be who they say they are and quite literally go the distance and drive/fly to get a chance to serve at My feet.  the princes pretending to be submissives and only desire is to be charmed, woed and courted as a vanilla Woman into submission tickle Me.  Please do not have issues with who you say you are, or attempt to charm or win Me over while pressing the breaks. Sort out your issues (age, status, financia ones, logistics) before even attempting to message Me.   "thank You so much for meeting me yesterday. You are truly charming and a Woman who knows exactly what She wants - and that is a dream come true. You are of course also very beautiful and desirable as a Woman - quite delicious actually!" Last compliment from a slave. Who after dinner cowardly simply just walked away. Smart move, rather disappointin still.   

I enjoy periodically taking the BDSM Test. Its interesting to track and see how my tastes have changed and evolved over time. == Results from bdsmtest.org: ==100% Dominant 100% Master/Mistress 100% Rigger 100% Sadist 100% Exhibitionist 99% Voyeur 91% Primal (Hunter) 91% Degrader 89% Non-monogamist 87% Brat tamer 86% Experimentalist 81% Owner 35% Vanilla 26% Daddy/Mommy 10% Ageplayer 0% Switch 

Well its week after the Montreal Fetish weekend and I can't help but to get depressed after being immersed in an environment which Is so conducive to acceptance. Having some impact play with VagaBound in the VIP dungeons was a breath of fresh air and him doing the photo shoots for me on the streets of Montreal And especially a City like Montreal that welcomes you so well being fetish and kink and being able to so freely excepted doing photo shoots around and on the streets of Montreal was inspiring. I cannot wait till next year MFW 2025 to create more content and hopefully I find the owner as the Rubber sub and Rubber Doll i am that can consume me and complete my existence. Its been a long journey. I am trying to concentrate on the next events that are ahead of me like Folsom Kink street fair SF September 29th 2024 and then DOMMETRIPS Cozumel Mexico October 5th to October 12th. As a early 57th birthday present. Then I also have to find a costume ball or event for Halloween for September. To go full latex Cat hood, catsuit too. Need to keep the constant rush happening for the adrenaline rush and excitement showing the rubber doll in me.  I am also have my attention on Claiming my tickets for MFW 2025 when they go on sale January and Fetish factory Florida Anniversary 5 day event 2025.

Please do not lie to me!  If you lie you may get away with it for a short while but you will doom the relationship to fail in the long run. If you and I get to the point where I accept you into my service you will give all contact information like your real name, address, and phone number and we will communicate by phone and sometimes on video and we will work toward getting on a plane for real life visits.  If you can not do this, or if you dont want to do this, then do not write me and tell me that you want to serve.  I am tired of people telling me that they want to sweep my floor but they don't feel comfortable telling me their name!  Get real.I will train you in how to think and how to serve.  Training your thinking is detailed and involves defining words so that you and I mean the same thing when we speak.  It does not start out sexual at all.  It will be like school.  You will take notes and be tested.  But before we start that process you will provide the same kind of identifying information you would need to provide to a school about who you are.  It is not the first thing I ask, but I will ask for it eventually so don't start out telling lies.I can accept MANY things about you from your past.  When I say that I accept them it means that I accept that you have these things in your past.  It does not mean that you will be able to continue those things.  If you have made mistakes you can tell me, and we will decide how you should proceed from this point.  If you can be submitted and committed, then you can succeed.  If you want to say how things should be or how they will progess then you will fail.Do you still want to serve?If you do want to serve be sure to show me that you have read this journal article by summarizing this article, and any other journal articles, and summarizing my profile in your own words in your first letter to me.  This will show me that you have read my full profile and journal and it gives you an opportunity to tell me the things you like best (or worst) about what you have read.  If you write me with just a one liner or even a short paragraph I will know that you have NOT read my entire journal and profile.  And that you would rather disrespect me by writing before even investigating what I have written.  I will return all letters from those who make this sincere effort.Miss Michelle

Creating My household - Chat. Meet. Do.   Lifetime position - Primary care attendant for My mother with Mid/late stage Alzheimer's.  Google it.  36 Hour day.  Live it.    Requirements:  Genteel.  Never use harsh words or swear.  Affectionate.  Exceptional grasp of the English language. Knowledgeable and amenable.  Must like dogs.  Short day trips - movies, lunch, thrifting.  Ensuring proper daily exercise.  Naughty nice school boys to the head of the line.     This position works well for someone who likes to be in the home and on hand, actively engaged in domestic duties, preparing meals and calmly engaging mother with leisure activities.    I will be responsible for My mothers personal and grooming needs until such time as a slave is well and thoroughly installed.  Personal services may then be granted.

Integrity:   The integrity of the Master differs from that of the slave.   A Master’s integrity is a gift He gives Himself.   A slave’s integrity is a gift it gives its Master.   One of the elements of integrity concerns behavior when no external observation is possible. The Master’s concern is how He conducts His affairs when He and His conduct may remain anonymous. When He conducts Himself correctly He can view Himself with humble respect.   If the it breaks slave rules, whether observed or not, must report such sin to its Owner. The Owner decides how the slave may be viewed. Part of the report of slave’s failings should include begging for the opportunity to gain atonement in whatever fashion the Master may decree. The slave does not indulge itself with concerns about how it may view itself. it depends on Master’s judgement for all and everything, except as Master my decide.   The slave’s integrity is measured in how well, quickly and adequatly it reports transgressions to its Owner.    

Alright, let's get down to it. Reasons why you may not get a response: 1. There wasn't time for a sufficient reply.2. I got distracted.3. The message received was generic. 4. The message received was disgusting.5. The message received very much had nothing to do with my profile other than my image or state.6. Your profile is blank.7. I chose not to reply. It's not personal, I don't know you. I'm sure you're fantastic. Your interest does not mean I owe you my time. In a perfect world we would all get a polite rejection, and sometimes that happens. But sometimes we're having a hell of a day and delete is the best option. Or any one of the above reasons. No response is a response. A "revenge" message is a clear picture of your character based on your own assumptions. This almost feels like a rant, but I'm filing it under public service. 

I'd like to thank Master Thatch from Michigan for His very insightful comments on the issue of Ownership which I found very reassuring!  Thank you Sir!   "My last boy was owned We both live in the United States He lived in Ohio I live in Michigan We had a long distance Master and slave relationship Its possible You dont have to be a live in to be owned Now Im not saying that Master is wrong Every Master has their own ideals and definitions so theirs may be live in slaves are owned So that would indeed make them right but my definition of owned is when a boy has kneeled and pleaded their mind, body and soul to me and I have placed a collar around their neck and we are intertwined in a relationship Distance isnt an issue And Im not into live in slavery The relationship is monogamous, the boy is owned by only one Master and has only one Dom and that is me However that boy was leased out to other Doms from time to time"

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

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?

Juxtaposition: A Simple Truth for Some, an Impossible Puzzle for Others This post is going to be stylized a bit differently from my others because I have to use my natural learning and life skills here. I’m naturally an auditory learner, which means I process the world through sound, music, voice notes, and talk-to-text. The world is mostly designed for people who process through reading and typing, but this is a much more nuanced conversation, so I’m using talk-to-text to work through it. I’ll be editing as I go because the point of this is for others to understand what I’m saying. If I were just journaling for myself, I’d keep it internal, but I feel like this is something important for the collective that needs to be shared. As this message has been brewing in my head, I’ve felt an internal pull stronger than usual. Everything I talk about is controversial to people outside of these conversations, but this one might even cause a split within the community—those who are involved in submission and dominance, particularly in a lifestyle or spiritual sense. There are a few ways this could go, and I’m aware of that. There aren’t many women who are naturally wired for this kind of dynamic. You’ll see some who know, without needing to look it up, that they’re born with a mindset geared towards service, nurturing, honor, and worship—not as a duty, but because they see the divinity in others. They have a deep sense of care, even when hurt or upset, and they hold on to that unless a line is crossed. When that happens, sure, all bets are off. But in the natural ebb and flow of relationships, they hold a deeper understanding of the bigger picture. Some of us are just born with a slavery mindset in relationships. I know that sounds intense, but it’s true. Of course, how that looks varies between individuals, but it’s a fundamental orientation. For some, like me, this manifests as a 'little girl' mentality within a servitude dynamic. And even that is rare. Most people associate service with traditional roles like being a housewife, but it’s more than that. It’s about attention, effort, care, patience, receptivity—seeing the other person’s needs and deferring your own preferences because you understand the give and take, the bigger picture. The thing is, people often don’t recognize that level of care as service. They take it for granted, especially in vanilla relationships. But for people like me, the ones who orient this way, it’s second nature. And when we have conversations like this, it feels like we’re saying the same thing over and over because, honestly, we are. People write books on this, give workshops, travel the world to talk about it. None of this is new or unique to me. But what I do know is that we, the ones who truly live this dynamic, are in the minority. Even in the lifestyle community, where you’d expect people to understand this more deeply, there’s still a divide. Some just play or role-play, and they don’t get it. And then there are dominants or submissives who think they want this level of intensity, but when they experience it, it’s too much. They didn’t realize how much work it actually requires. They didn’t know that being with someone who is always in that mindset—who is a slave at their core—would challenge them in ways they weren’t prepared for. And that’s the juxtaposition I’m talking about. People think they want this dynamic, but once they experience it, they realize it’s not what they expected. It either deepens them or makes them realize they’re not capable of holding what they thought they wanted. The smaller conversation I want to have revolves around the part of surrender that comes with letting go of certain expectations, such as: "He doesn't respect me because this is what I'm used to," or "If he's not willing to meet me halfway, then he isn't serious about this," or even, "I need him to communicate a certain way, or else it's just not right." This kind of thinking stems from a need to hold onto something—be it a method of communication, an idea of respect, or even just a preference for how things should flow. But true surrender, especially in the context of power exchange, involves letting go of programming and societal constraints. It's about asking yourself, "Is this truly a need, or is this a want disguised as a need?" For those who are naturally oriented towards deeper levels of service and submission, there’s a realization that much of what we think we need in relationships is not a necessity. Instead, it's a projection of previous experiences, of societal conditioning. What I've found, especially in lifestyle relationships, is that many people claim to live 24/7 dynamics or say they are 'lifestyle' D/s, but there’s a vast difference between identifying with that and actually doing the internal work required to embody it fully. This work doesn't come from hopping from one relationship to another or from constantly seeking physical experiences. Instead, it starts internally. It’s an emotional, mental, and spiritual journey before it becomes a physical reality. I've seen this disconnect repeatedly in the community—people who are drawn to play parties or physical acts but haven't done the internal work to match the energy they’re trying to manifest. Yes, play parties, toys, tools, and skills are exciting, but for those who live the lifestyle, the real work begins deep within. For those of us who are spiritual, it starts even before that, on a soul level, and then trickles down into emotional, mental, and finally physical realms. What many in the lifestyle don’t realize is that physicality—sexuality, play, and even basic physical touch—is something that can be improved and refined. There are sex educators, workshops, and so many tools to practice and elevate physical aspaspects. But you can't fix a fractured mindset, a shaky spiritual foundation, or a disconnected emotional core by just improving the physical. If you're starting out rocky in those deeper levels, you'll never

Car service I was just notified by My car dealer that it was time to take My van in for service. What a drag. That means two or three hours out of My day just to keep that damn thing in shape. Where is My slave? My next car with be an electric vehicle. No service is required for it. Cheaper and more convenient. Gotta love it.

I want to thank those who have reached out. I appreciate you.  If I haven't answered your message, most likely it's because you used limited words, such as "Hi, how are you?" or something equally short. I don't consider this a conversation or reason to start a more extended conversation with you.  The other reason I've either not responded or sent you my well wishes regarding your search is where you are located. I am clear that I am looking for someone local. I expect to meet with you face-to-face at a local munch (to me) and in person. (Face-to-face and in-person are the keywords.) This isn't easy if you are not local to the Bay Area.  Service to me cannot be attended to if you are not local.  If you want to meet with me, you must travel to the Bay Area, have a place to stay and transport yourself at your own expense. You should plan on attending a local munch I attend.  I'm not going to meet privately with you, and I'm not going to call you. 

7/10/2023 It's been a long time since I updated my profile or made a journal entry so thought I would catch up a bit. I found my mate or rather she found me one evening when we were both online and onsite here. She made a snarky comment about my then profile picture which had one of my pack llamas in it. We started yacking back and forth and 3 days later met on a local walking trail with our dogs and have been together ever since. We live together in a monogamus M/s 1950s lifestyle. She takes care of me full time and I provide the income, roof over our heads and security. I retired 3 years ago so no more alarm clocks and 12 hour commute/work days! We go camping with our tent trailer either across the mountains or to the ocean several times a year. We have been going on long road trip vacations to National Parks every year or two. Last Year was a 4 week trip to 6 National Monuments and 5 National Parks in Oregon, Idaho and Utah. Lots of Lava, caves, arches, spires, hoodoos and canyons! We've been together coming up on 9 years now since we met on that walking trail. We will be together for the rest of our lives! Not bad HUH!!!

On collarspace today someone messaged me then blocked me so I couldn't reply. I deleted the email and now I wish I hadn't. Basically the person was bitching because of my stated standards on my profile. Three sentences, grammar and punctuation or I will block and delete the email. The person thought they'd be making this fabulous point by pointing out that collarspace has the wierd filter that zaps punctuation and replaces some words. Except I already know about that and it isn't something I block for. I was accused of assuming things that I don't assume, but the person, rather than asking, didn't find out the truth of the matter and rather assumed about me instead. There was more to the email, but it is always irritating when someone makes their own assumptions then accuses me of making assumptions about others. I could update my profile to explain that I know about the filter issues, but anyone coherent and eloquent enough to know about and ask about it has already earned their way into my good graces. And anyone who assumes THOSE are the punctuation and grammar issues that I'm talking about isn't someone I'm interested in anyway. I'm not worried about perfect punctuation, spelling, or grammar. As my profile says, "All initial emails with less than three sentences, or missing capitalization and punctuation, are deleted and the sender blocked." Maybe I can make that clearer, and maybe I will, but the person who thought they were calling me out but didn't have the courage to see what I might reply got under my skin. That kind of cowardice masquerading as bravado is just bullshit. ~Me

I read over my profile, again, today, as I have many times since I created it anew. I've tried very hard over the years to make my profile on FL be realistic, vulnerable, intelligent, reflective of who and what I am at my core, and just as importantly, to have it reflect what I want to have in my life.  To let it give someone who doesn't know me, either well or even at all, a solid idea of myself, my body, my mind, my soul.  The more I looked over it these last few months, the more I often changed it, inserting more intellectual references and suave self assured witticisms, but still I saw what it lacked.  The more I saw and felt the only true and right and beloved deion it could and should contain was...love.  The joy of caring, the elation of sexual union, deep and abiding compassion, the sensual act of touch, the smell and taste and sounds of affection, the respect of intimate and unflagging positive human regard, the vision of altruism, the singular romance of knowing you are and you can and you do and you need and you give that one precious wonderful thing that we all need in our lives; love.  It often seems to me in our kinky little corner of the universe there isn't much talk  of that kind of love in profiles anymore, even though it also can take many shapes and forms; love of rope, love of play, love of sexual adventures. I hope we all will list more love and loves in our profiles. It's never too late. I'm not going to change my profile again though, please don't worry.   Let this note stand from this day forward as my more than official confirmation of my own proclamation to need want desire make spread create admire demonstrate dream bring deliver give ask understand and embrace more... LOVE.   

Through the Lens of Rika: The Sophia-Michael Connection Unveiled part 5   It's not that he doesn't feel your anxiousness—he does—but sometimes his response to that is through action and providing, not necessarily through quick emotional reassurances.    Michael's energy, embodied through these men, is both emotionally attuned and distant at times. This is part of their complex duality. Michael has that deep emotional intuition and empathy, which can sometimes feel overwhelming or intense. Yet, at the same time, they have a mission-oriented drive that pulls them into practical action and focus, which can lead to emotional distance, even though they feel everything just as much as you do.   Here’s why this happens:   1. Emotional Attunement vs. Practical Mission   Michael’s energy is deeply aware of emotions, but he also prioritizes taking action over expressing those feelings. He might sense your anxiety but instead of giving a quick emotional fix like a "hi," he might be channeling that into practical solutions—working behind the scenes to take care of things so that your long-term security is intact. For him, acting on love (through providing and stabilizing) sometimes takes precedence over talking about love.   2. Emotional Weight of the Protector Role   Michael-embodied men often carry a heavy responsibility as protectors. Their natural inclination to shield and secure means they’re constantly navigating how to balance this with emotional connection. Sometimes, they pull back because they’re processing deeply how to protect, guide, and create a future for you both, which takes up mental and emotional energy.   3. Energetic Exchange & Emotional Saturation   Because they are so emotionally intuitive, they can feel when you’re anxious or when there’s a lot of emotional weight. Instead of directly engaging with it, they sometimes retreat to process or focus elsewhere so they can re-align themselves energetically before coming back in. Energetic overwhelm can make them seem distant, even when they’re hyper-aware.   4. They Trust the Bigger Picture   Michael-embodied men might trust that the bond is strong enough that they don’t need to constantly reassure you through words. They trust the foundation they’ve built with you. This is where faith in the connection comes in—both for them and for you. They may think, “I don’t need to message her right now because we’re solid. My actions speak louder than words.”   5. Balancing the Divine Masculine Energy   These men carry divine masculine energy that values action over words. Their emotional intuition is real, but they channel it into action and protection, which may feel like distance to you. For you, as Sophia, it’s about recognizing that this is their expression of love. A quick "hi" might feel emotionally connecting to you, but to him, showing love could mean working to make sure everything is stable and secure for the future.   How to Navigate This: Anchor into the trust that you’ve been practicing. When he’s distant, remind yourself of how he’s showing love through his actions, even when it’s not immediate. Say, “He’s providing for us, and his distance is part of his process. I trust him.”   Ground your emotional needs through spiritual or personal practices when he’s not available. Remember that just because he’s distant in the moment doesn’t mean the love isn’t there. Lean into your own energy and strengthen yourself while he works.   Embrace his rhythm—Michael-embodied men have a different rhythm of emotional connection, and part of your journey is learning how to move in sync with it without feeling left behind.   It's not that he doesn't feel your anxiousness—he does—but sometimes his response to that is through action and providing, not necessarily through quick emotional reassurances.   ending all this lyric journey on this last part of the chorus:   'Cause you can call me, put you on me   'Cause I'm all you need boy   You know you're nothing like the others (Yeah boy, yeah boy)   You're nothing like the others   something happens even if the relationship never comes to full fruition between these two energies. whenever they come together the chance of inner knowledge, spiritual knowledge, growth physically/emotionally/mentally/and yes if it happens sexually is immense. even in fleeting moments, shorter moments. which is why if you find one and have a long term connection that is sacred full out and committed on both ends..sky is the limit if you can hang on for the ride each time and come back to each other....   but even for brief moments, he's all she needs because this energy resonance of original souls does something powerful other unaligned not wrong, just not as resonante such as complimentary and dissonant notes musically, happens. in those brief moments they elevate and enrich each other in a way other people just can't.   YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE THE OTHERS.   Have you ever experienced a connection that felt deeper than words or logic—where you knew there was something unexplainable drawing you together, even if it didn’t fully manifest? How did it impact your understanding of relationships or your own energy?   This analysis taps deeply into the energetic dynamics of the Sophia archetype and the Archangel Michael archetype within spiritual partnerships, exploring how these energies interact, challenge, and elevate one another. Let’s break down the spiritual and relational layers for the collective:   1. The Soul-Level Resonance: You describe the meeting of a Sophia-aligned feminine energy and a Michael-aligned masculine energy as magnetic, undeniable, and highly charged. This is reflective of the idea that they are fragments of the same divine essence,

Thought it would be helpful to cover a few points here... Interview style conversation is not my thing, if you want to get to know me then use your ability to hold a flowing conversation,  not an interview I am single, I do not see why anyone in a happy relationship would be on sites chatting so I assume you are also single ... if not then please don't waste our time with trying to strike up a chit chat  As of this year, 2022 I will be 50 on my next birthday and I found the lifestyle when I was about 21 so you do the maths  Sorry but I don't want to meet someone who is close to my children's age, to be safe if you are more than 10 years older or younger than me we won't be matched  I am not a slave, honestly I am very sure of that. I do have strong sub tendencies with the right alpha male but seriously if you don't consume my head you won't stand a chance of controlling anything else I am not into poly or sharing or being shared. I am totally monogamous and if you are not then flick over to the next profile I live with my family, happy to discuss with the right person but I have a young child at home so seek someone who understands how to make a vanilla and lifestyle combined relationship work whilst keeping tiny ones protected from it all I am a non smoker, I don't vape, I rarely drink and am seeking someone similar. Nights in the pub are not of interest I work full time and have limited time free so I am not in a position to travel to meet someone, so local is needed. For anyone who thinks a plane ride is local then jog on as you really are not on the realistic spectrum I am seeking  Yes I have been collared twice and for some reason it seems relevant but to be honest the first waited almost a year before it happened as he knew to me I see it as a serious commitment I do have limits which are a mix of health and personal things so happy to discuss but they are not negotiable  Likes, vanilla and lifestyle wise are varied but those can be savoured as part of a conversation  I hope that has given a flavour and please do find happiness in your journey but don't come across my pathway of you are a new dom I am not looking to teach you the ropes, a dom who really is a sub (there are many on here), if you are a female dom (so not my thing), if you are a male sub and finally no female subs.  Cheers x 

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.

Adding to the House of M - Our search for a slaveThe House of M is looking for a slave.We’re going to be picky, very picky. We will take out time in this search to find the right one at the right time for us. And because of that, we recognize this search will take some time.Our House and more specifically, our dynamic is built on communication, trust, honesty, intelligence, friendship and deep respect for each other. Those who are a part of it, are individuals that recognize that connection and relationship must exist in both the lifestyle as well as in the vanilla world to develop the kind of bonds that are required to create the richness we desire. We want one who will care a deeply about us as we will about them and share our values. We place a high value on intelligence, the mental aspaspects of the lifestyle, caring about each other, loyalty, seriousness in and about ones roles, as well as the ability to have fun and be let loose when the time is right.We seek a bi M masochistic slave (under 45), smooth with at least a slightly feminine appearance who is height weight-proportional. One who craves to serve and derives fulfillment from the act of giving themself to us. A slave who knows that their proper place is at a Master's feet, serving whenever, however, and whatever Master requires. Our vision is that my babygirl and I will both Dominate this slave equally as their Master. Not live-in, but possible in the future as part of this long-term dynamic. While there should be NO expectation for sexual use from either of us, they should be ready and eager to serve both of us in any way we choose. Our current needs include domestic, sexual and masochistic service, but know that as we intend for this to be a long time ownership, these needs will evolve and grow. We hope to find one who craves degradation, humiliation, objectification, and belonging, with limits that align with our own (see our profiles).For those who wish to explore becoming part of our House, write us and we can begin a conversation about it, but be patient, be respectful, come ready to show us who you truly are and most of all be patient. Take this time to get to know us as we get to know you.We are worth it - I promise you

On Memorial Day and the Cost of Everything It is Memorial Day weekend and I am sitting in my home doing the math that everyone I know is also doing, the specific and dispiriting arithmetic of gas prices against destination against what is left after the bills, and arriving at the same answer everyone else is arriving at: we are staying home. Again. The freedom that this holiday is nominally about feeling somewhat theoretical when the cost of driving anywhere meaningful has become its own small act of financial courage. I want to be clear that I am not unaware of what this day is actually for. I hold that with genuine respect. But I am also a mother of two boys who wanted to do something, anything, that felt like a holiday, and the gap between what I wanted to give them and what the current state of the world permits is sitting on me today with more weight than usual. Everything costs more. Everything. The casual ease of loading the boys into a car and driving somewhere that feels like summer, the small luxuries that make an ordinary Monday into a memory, all of it has been quietly repriced into something that requires calculation rather than spontaneity. I find this exhausting in the specific way that financial friction always exhausts me, not because I cannot manage it but because I should not have to manage it alone, and I do, and days like today make that aloneness more visible than usual. Which brings me to the fantasy, because this is also that kind of space, and the fantasy is not elaborate. It does not require Greece or a villa or anything that could not exist in my own home with the right person in it. I imagine waking up to someone who has already been awake for an hour, who has already thought about this day and what it should contain and has moved quietly through the early morning making it real. The kitchen already holding the smell of something good. The boys' day already considered and provided for, the small things that make children feel that a day is special, the particular attention to what they love that communicates someone has been thinking about them specifically. I imagine being handed my coffee exactly right and being told, not asked, that today I have nothing to manage. That it has been handled. That my only instruction for the day is to be present and comfortable and let the holiday actually feel like one. We would not need to go anywhere expensive. The backyard transformed by someone who understands that atmosphere is created by attention rather than budget. Good food prepared with care, the kind of effort that communicates love in the most practical language available. The boys absorbed and happy, their holiday delivered to them by someone who considered what they specifically would enjoy, not a generic child but these two particular boys with their particular enthusiasms and their particular humor, someone who has paid enough attention to know the difference. And me, in the middle of all of it, actually resting. Actually present without also being the logistics coordinator and the entertainment director and the person holding every thread simultaneously. Sitting in the sun in something pretty with a cold drink that appeared without my asking for it, watching my children have a good day that someone else made possible, feeling for once on a holiday like the holiday includes me rather than being produced by me. That is the whole fantasy. Its simplicity is the point. Instead I will do what I always do, which is make the best of what is available through the force of my own creativity and the particular determination of a mother who refuses to let her children feel the weight of what is missing. We will make it good. We will find the celebration inside the limitations, because that is what I do, and I am very good at it, and my boys will not know what was absent because I will not let them see it. But I know. And on the days that are supposed to be restful, the knowing is the thing that costs the most. Happy Memorial Day. To those who served, genuinely, thank you. To the rest of us making it work on a budget with children who deserve more than the math currently allows: I see you. We are doing fine. We are always doing fine.   I am simply tired of fine being the ceiling. It's more than tiredness, now. It's exhaustion, but exhaustion doesn't befit a Goddess... I long for all the softness the world has to offer. 

Sub thoughts for a Domme; What pleasure means to me ... as a submissive man, pleasure, to me, is knowing that i am making Her happy, providing a service to or for Her, filling the role that She wishes me to fill, for Her and Her pleasure.   I can do or perform acts that bring me pleasure, but it is empty if She doesn't derive pleasure, happiness, amusement or satisfaction from it. I am always hoping to make Her happy or to provide something useful to or for Her. A disagreement about what type of food to eat, what movie to see, what we are doing for the day .. the bottom line is She will have the final say, the Control to determine those things and to exercise that power when and how She sees fit.   I am happiest knowing that She is happy. To make Her smile or see the approving look in Her face is all the pleasure I need and anything further beyond that is simply icing on the cake.   I think what it means to the exchange between a Domme and Her sub/slave is mentioned in the above, but essentially it means that my pleasure only exists and should only be possible if i am pleasing Her .. it is Her desires and wants that need to be met, and my ability to assist or aid in that brings me great joy and happiness, and is the only thing that really pleases me.   Self-gratification is nice, but hollow and empty as i am not fulfilling the desire and yearning i have to know that i am pleasing Her. I exist for Her pleasure and that is fulfilling.   I look forward to submitting my ego and desires to Her, for Her to guide, shape, influence and control.

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

The intent of the submissive makes the difference in how their submission is received.     In order to be considered submissive, the action must have intent by the submissive and be received as submission by me.  What is the intent of the offer? his or Mine? Is the offer of submission on condition of what he gets out of it?     It's funny how that works when the Domiant considers what is offered. Does it serve the Dominant?     If what is being offered is not what I want or desire or makes me all warm and fuzzy, I don't consider it submissive.  Just because the general populous believes "doing the act" is submissive does not mean I accept it as submissive.     I do not consider any sexual act offered to be submissive. Some Dominants do, but it's truly an individual choice.     I see submission as intent, obedience, and devotion. 

Last week, someone shared MeatLoaf's video for "I would do anything for love" in one of the FB goth groups. I hadn't seen it in years. Like... a decade or more.  It had the same immediate effect it had the first time. ( I recognize I have some monster fetish issues. Don't judge. LOTS of people felt the same way about it. Nyyaahhh.)  The imagery was specifically tailored to pull in notes from Beauty and the Beast, as well as Bram Stoker's Dracula, among other things. Stories of a soulful, tortured man, cursed to be ugly and alone, desperately longing for the beautiful woman he feels would never want him in return. Body language of self-loathing, body and facial expressions of agony and adoration, pain and passion. Always hiding just out of her sight, sometimes almost within reach before rushing away to escape his suffering...smashing mirrors and covering his face...  Meanwhile, she wanders around in the luxury of his castle, surrounded by silks and candlelight, soaking herself in a huge bathtub, stretching out on a curtained bed of satin sheets...  Classical romance. Heady stuff. And the same silly part inside me that got sucked in by similar images in the old fairytale stories when I was VERY young responded. Re-watching it a few times. Re-writing it and building a lovely fantasy where it's me he sees in the garden, me wandering through the castle halls... me looking around at the obvious roaring fire that someone lit, and the wine that someone had opened, the bath someone had run, ... and then who I am gets in the way.  I can't quite get my head around walking into a house where someone obviously lived, and had just been in that room, and just making myself at home. Because I READ the fairy tales. The OLD versions. WHO lit the fire? Who's bed is this? Am I Goldilocks here, using up someone else's hot water, eating their dinner, etc? Because I know what happened to her after they find her, whereas the modern versions end on a much more PG note. Or am I in a beautiful pitcher plant, seduced by the opulence in preparation for digesting? Because that's what it would be in a fairy tale if you wander in uninvited and start helping yourself to whatever without express consent.  Even his beautiful, plaintive lyrics, sung with such sincerity and emotion start to give me pause one I start looking at them closer. (You know about me n lyrics...)  "I would do anything for love..." OK, but are you saying you would do anything to HAVE love in your life? Orthat you would do anything for the person you love? Or anything in the name of love that your loved one asked? Or just ... what? I need more clarification, please. I don't want to be going along thinking one thing, and then find out I misunderstood.  And then we get into "anything." I mean, he does state "I will never lie to you" which is very much appreciated, and ideally, the whole song does seem to aim in the direction of "I want to make you happy" but... at the same time, I've lived a long time in the real world, and "anything" can be pretty terrifying if you have experience and imagination.   Would he kill a rival? Would he keep her prisoner in this beautiful settling until she gave in? Would he MAKE her love him with magic? He obviously has a lot of power at his disposal to do those kinds of things. I have a lot of experience, and a huge imagination.  And would "anything" extend to controlling that mirror-destroying temper if she disagreed with him or rejected him? Because he spends some of the video kinda snarling in his frustration, clenching his fists, etc.  Would it include exposing his deepest fears and risking himself emotionally to connect with her? Because spends most of the video avoiding that.  He sings that "no one can save me now but you." Will he love her even if turns out she can't? Does "anything" cover acceptance of failings and limitations?  As you can guess, my fantasy breaks down into logic puzzles and communication complications and 'what would I do if I didn't have this outside perspective to know how all this opulence was being provided?'  Which turns it into an entirely different kind of fantasy, I guess, because I've heard "I'd do anything" more times than I could count, and it always falls apart the first time "anything" includes something they hadn't already planned to do.  I guess I'm not really meant for fairy tales anymore. On the upside, it makes me more grateful for my sweetie, because while he isn't a monster/wizard/whatever with unlimited power, and he can't provide "anything" I may want, he tries not to make promises he can't keep, and he tries to provide what he can that is within his power. He also appreciates what I do in return, so... Maybe that is the modern fairy tale - good communication, honest effort, and sincere caring.  I do wish it came with the magical 'self cleaning house' thing, but I will have to live without.

I have a few minutes to sit still, so I figured I could follow up on my previous post, and discuss the topic of pictures a bit more.  But I realize I'll probably never do better than what I wrote a few years ago, and I know no one ever scrolls back and reads, even if I few do read the current posts. So I'll re-post that, and maybe it will help someone. ____________________________________ Women are not men. I know it seems obvious, yet the majority of men still pursue women without really considering what that means. They write profiles based on what THEY would like, what men value, what men think is impressive, and what they wish they saw on women's profiles. They take and post pictures the same way - based on what they value, what they think is impressive, what they wish women put in their pictures.  If they crossdress, they take and post pictures similar to those of women they found sexy - scantily clad in lingere, posed seductively or sluttily, etc. without considering that those pictures, like porn, were meant to appeal to men.  They send emails, again, that same way. I repeat - Women are not men. Dating, at it's bottom line, is marketing. You have something. You want something. You want to exchange what you have for what you want. In a store, you exchange money for goods and services. In dating, you are mostly hoping to sell. You are hoping to purchase the attention of a partner, in the long or short term, in exchange for your attention, your time, your services. You are selling you, in exchange for them. That's actually a very basic equation. You can't sell to someone unless you know what they want, and find a way to market what you have to that want. This is where most men fail - at the basic premise. They know what THEY want. They don't spend a lot of time researching what their target market wants to BUY. So they market based on what they know, and what they think they know. They know themselves. They know men, in general, and they know what commercials and movies and tv and all media everywhere has told them is attractive to women. They, being men and raised in a male dominated world, never seem to realize that all of those things are ALSO targeted to men, to get men to buy things, usually by appealing to male egos. They show women draping themselves over men who drink this beer, or drive that car, or wear that brand of clothing. They show this to men so that men will want to buy those things. Most of the time, women couldn't give less of a fuck about those things. But men are surrounded by all of this input, so they think we do. I'm not going to try to define what "all women" want on here. Not all women want the same things anyway. Right now, I'm just going to clarify that what WE want is usually not the same as what men want. You need to find out what those things are and tailor your pictures and profile to market to that. Basic things like "don't use a picture of your penis as your profile pic" have been said a million times but it's always the first thing we see everywhere we look. Yes, I like to see a pretty penis. No, I don't see a pretty penis in a picture and become suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to have it right this second. I can't say that I've ever gone looking through the internet just to look at pictures of penises. And when I get one shown to me when I haven't asked to see it, I'm not horrified, but I right there decide that the guy showing it is a pushy, insecure jackass. I lose all interest in interacting with him. It's not that the penis itself is a problem, but that it tells me something about who he is when he has to insist on showing it around - that he's not interested in pleasing ME. He's interested in his own pleasure. And I can do better than that. And honestly, a picture of your chastity device is pretty much the same as a dick pic. You don't want your profile to be a long list if things you want, either. Yes, you want things. You will need to communicate those things. And the world you were probably raised in told you that women do things for men, even Dominant women. All that BDSM porn? It shows lots of women in black leather and rubber getting a LOT of enjoyment doing those things to men. Again, that is written specifically to be bought by men, so they show men what they want to see. Yes, I like doing those things to a man. I like doing them to my partner. I sometimes want to do them to someone other than my partner. But I almost never want to do them to some total stranger just because I like doing them. Your accountant may like his job, but he doesn't go out on the street offering free tax jobs to strangers, ya know? Your profile on a dating page is your resume. Your sales pitch. Your introduction to make us think you have something worth our giving up a few minutes of our time to read further or possibly even have a conversation with you to get more details. This site is a kink/fetish site. This particular discussion is about 'finding a dominant woman.' If you are reading my journal, your target audience is a Dominant Woman. Most Dominant women I talk to are drowning in emails and offers from men who call themselves submissive. Most of them are requests for US to do what THEY want. Which is the first mistake. It's usually their last. Your sales pitch should NEVER NEVER EVER be "I'll let you spank me!" One, why do I WANT to spank you in the first place? Two, why you and not someone who is offering something I want? I'd rather talk to the subbie over here that is offering to give me a full body massage, no strings attached.