I want a truly submissive, Female Supremacist who is acquiescent to their core and craves pampering a Beautiful and Dominant Goddess. I am bored of being approached by porn sick sex focused faux-subs who want to use Women to fulfill their kinks and "domestic shlubs". Cleaning My toilet is not an act of submission. Worshipping any sexual parts of my body is not an act of submission. Understanding your role as a male and sub in the order of My World is an act of submission. Begging to know how you can be of use, cater to Me and relieve Me of stress or woes is an act of submisoon. I am a dream Woman by all standards. I expect any sub who even attempts to approach Me to have a "how can i tangibly make Your day better, Goddess" attitude. Enough with the sex and domestic crazed bs. It's lazy, patronizing and patriarchal. The only sub I'll accept is one who hired a cleaning service to work while I'm enjoying a spa day that they arranged for Me. Afterward, they will prepare a delicious meal for Me, then I let out My pent up stress on them in a corporal manner, or have My feet massaged and kisssed...whatever mood stirs Me.

 AcadaMay She's Royal CFNM Ladies Tea Party - Saturday 5th July   You may contact me here to reserve your place.  Most alternative events objectify women, but there is one particular event that reverses the rôles. This is the Clothed Female, Naked Male party. CFNM by definition gives the power back!  Ladies of elegance and sophistication are cordially invited to take the opportunity to mingle with their peers whilst sipping their wine and enjoying the entertainment.  Come & join the the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Tea Party every month for an afternoon of tea & wine with lashings of decadence. All whilst being served by underlings who will be there solely to serve and cater to our every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla tea party again!  Ladies, this is your chance to be served by men and objectify them. CFNM includes activities that are not particularly oriented towards female dominance and superiority, but a modicum of humiliation and punishment to the nude men not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged!  Gentlemen, this is your chance to parade yourself in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM.

It's fun how often men approach me online proclaiming that they're somehow "floored" by my intelligence, and that it's just sooo difficult to find intelligent women online, and of course, they recognize intelligence because of how extremely intelligent they are themselves.  They're looking for someone intelligent just like me, but obviously they don't actually want someone intelligent just like me since I am not flattered by such clownery.  But they sure do want me to be flattered by such a clown tactic.  There are a number of reasons it doesn't work: I know I'm intelligent and don't need the validation for it from random strangers online.  Just like these men don't seek validation for their intelligence from strangers online. When you're smart or funny or kind or any number of traits, you don't need to start conversations by announcing it to others and trying to convincing them that you have those traits; people recognize them for themselves - especially when those people are as "intelligent" as you're claiming they are. I am not some grand exception; there is a limitless number of intelligent women online, here and on every site.  It's easy to tell there are so many since they message me and we talk - they just aren't interested in reaching out to you.  You haven't flattered me by announcing how dumb other women are to you, but you've told me a lot about what you think of women and their intelligence, mine included. The men who expect a woman to be flattered by telling her how very exceptional she is for being intelligent are simply using it as a pickup line.  People who think I'm smart, and who want to engage with me as a result, simply engage with me, without waxing poetic about how smart I am and how smart they are and how they've been looking for someone smart just like me. It's a pick up line.  Talking about how smart they are and how smart they find me isn't even a conversation.  They're interested in me and they hope that by appealing to my intelligence rather than by being more blatant in their tactics, I'll be more receptive.  It's not flattering to me, but it is an unflattering look on these guys.  Genuine people engage genuinely.

Some vanilla history: I had given up on dating in the lifestyle after the end of a 7-year D/s relationship back in 2022. In 2023, I met My ex bf on a vanilla dating app and he said that he initially thought I was a catfish. He had been messaging with Me "casually" for a few weeks and when it started to feel like it just wasn't going anywhere, I attempted to end communication. Apparently, that piqued his interest and he planned an actual date. When I stepped out of My car, it took him a few minutes to compose himself. He seriously was expecting someone else I guess and didn't know what to do when it wasn't. I was thoroughly entertained by the whole thing and honestly couldn't stop laughing at the situation. I gave him a one arm hug and he was shaking! It was adorable. And of course, over the 18 months or so that we dated, I loved telling his friends that story and how he almost blew it being so nonchalant in the beginning.

Hotel from a sluts POV   We check into the hotel and as we are standing at the desk you brush your arm 'accidentally' across my nipples which are swollen and tied sticking out under my top being constantly rubbed and I'm trying to hide them as I know they are really visible. The reception definitely can't see my swollen tied clit or the sink plugs in my arse and cunt that are stretching my holes right in front of her but she can see in my face that I am slightly flushed and breathing a bit heavily. I wish she would type faster!  Finally we have our key. You tell me to walk ahead of you to the lift, I know this is so you can watch me on my heels in my tight skirt trying not to walk like a Slut full of cock.  We are in the lift alone and you take advantage of the time to rub over your handy work on my tits and cunt making me shake and cry out. And Cum inside myself. Unable to release it because of the plug. You smile at me and laugh at how ruined i am tonight. Already begging for you to fuck me.  In the room i stand in front of you with my hands on my head and my legs apart and wait for my master to tell me what to do next. You stroke over my body and sharply pull my nipples, bringing me round from my drift and then sit me down firmly on a chair in the corner and opening up a bottle of champagne that is on the desk. I am wriggling in the chair, trying not to moan out loud with the anticipation and my holes open.  You pour us a glass and turn around and sit on the sofa opposite and tell me to crawl over to you. I slowly crawl across the room my nipples rubbing on my shirt my clit rubbing when I move my legs because it is so swollen. I get to you and you tell me to kneel...  You lift me into your lap by my nipples making me get tears in my eyes and roughly hold me by the neck sideways on your knee...  With your free hand you pass my drink and tell me to drink it I am thirsty from breathing hard and knock it back. You put the glass down and spread my legs and tap on the plugs in my holes staring into me while I beg you to open me up and touch me inside....  You pull the sink plug out of my cunt tube leaving it held open and poke up inside me so I can feel the tip of your fingers deep in me but nothing where the tube sits making me really aware that I am gaped....  I can hear myself begging... Please Master, fill me up with your fist and cock I need it so much. .... then I feel a bit of a lurch and sway into you, I can still hear myself begging and moaning but everything is getting a bit weird and I realise, as I pass out that you are telling me that when I wake up I will get what a Slut deserves......  I don't know how long I am asleep.  I come to hog tied.  It is dark so I am blindfolded  I can't hear anything except my own heart and inner voice.  My mouth is now plugged like the other holes.  I wonder how this going to go!

I'm reading this book on habits. There's a little bit of the science, but mostly it's anecdotal moments of famous and not so famous people and how one small change created an avalanche of positive changes. Sometimes just within themselves, sometimes branching out to entire companies. It's fascinating. As I'm expected to, I'm mining the nuggets and looking at how they fit into my life. A lot of times an easy answer to why you do or don't do something is I don't know. Maybe you don't know, even when consciously thinking about it. And then you're listening to someone else's story and it comes to you, THAT'S why you do the thing! Or you already knew the thing but hadn't figured out the alternative better habit, like replacing junk food with a bowl of apples so when you need something quick and lazy it's the better option. I know I'm going to forget more than I remember, but right now its helping me to piece together the reasons why I fall back into certain habits and how to move beyond the comfortable to solidify the new, better ones. Not today, of course. Today was a shit show. But it's a plan for tomorrow. Progress. 

Ladies - feel free to contact Me anytime to discuss your experiences here with the unfavorables.  I have an open door policy when it comes to protecting our interests and there are some parasites here who make it their lifes work to penetrate our defenses  in an effort to conquer through deception.  It is a rotten business and sours the landscape for honest and true relationships with men of distinction here. I was reading some journal entries of other dominant women and was alarmed at the amount of similarities to their journeys here.  Are we all speaking to the same men/man?  Its a fact that Mr. Mindf*ck is spreading his disinformation seed all over.  So I have started reaching out to other women.  Do you hear that you VOCATIONAL  POS PARASITE?  One way or another, you will find your breeding grounds drying up. You messed with a very nice but very dogged lady and while I forgive, I never forget an injustice.  So while you are creating or discharging both submissive and dominant entities, I will continue to contact other women and asking for them to reach out to Me if they wish to exchange notes.  Mind you, we too have form letters, so dont get your hopes up that energy is being spent on you - energy is being spent protecting women from predators such as yourself and energy is being spent in sisterhood ensuring men of worth have clear passage. Time to buckle up boys, Mama's Got a Brand New Bag!  Good luck! lol

more to come here is a taste of the next part   Slave and pet are now preparing you for what will be the most by far the largest/greatest thing you have ever done in your whole life time.  This will truly test your love, might and soul.   You look around the lit up room and see a full dungeon for what is worth.  Rows of floggers, canes, cat-n-nines, hung so neatly, placed on one wall. You see several shapes, sizes, thicknesses and all different colors. You have never seen such a collection this large before.  Your attention is brought to the one that is glittering in the light, off to the left middle side.  It shimmers softly in the glow of the room.

It has been a week since your initial inspection   I have had you serve me daily. Your domestic skills are very good and you are quite the handyman    You endure your daily spankings, but  your limits need to be pushed as far as pain tolerance    Today I have errands to run, prior to leaving, I blindfold you and lead you to the bed    I assist you to lay on your side and place you in a fetal position   I bound your hands behind your back and your feet they found it together   I slowly pushed your knees more forward to expose your man pussy   I grab my favorite remote butt plug lube it up really nicely and slide it in   I kiss you on the forehead and tell you I should be back shortly and as I'm leaving out the bedroom I grab my phone and begin the wonderful stimulation of your man pussy  

Depression wears funky shoes...does not matter what they look like, anymore, they all hurt and bring tears to my eyes. Food fills a void. And then my reflection hurts as well. Days pass. Alone most of the time with little that asks to be done. Care becomes a bird with no feathers that cannot fly. Hope is my shoe sole with lots of holes. Nothing matters. Nothing changes. Especially me...days come and go and will, till i die, my next horizon, the grave, how exciting. Sun rises and sets as if change cannot happen. Tick tock...tick tock... Am i waiting for Godot? Should i pin my eyelids open or no, maybe closed. Maybe not seeing what is before would help. And...maybe not...ah well...time heals all or, if nothing else, takes what we want and leaves us to make a legacy. i have only words to hold what has been and could never be. Something happened and joy left me.

Lady of Mexico In Mexico, where the sun meets the sand, There lived a woman, fierce and grand. Her spirit strong, her will untamed, In her veins, a legacy unashamed.   She ruled with grace, her presence known, In every step, her power shown. Her eyes ablaze with fiery might, A force of nature, shining bright.   In lands of color, where passion thrives, She led with strength in all her strides. Her essence echoed through historys call, A dominant spirit, standing tall.   In Mexicos embrace, she found her way, A queen of purpose, unafraid to sway. With courage as her guiding flame, She carved her place, a revered name.   In every heart, her story lives, A dominant woman, whose power gives Inspiration to those who dare to dream, In Mexicos tapestry, a vibrant seam.  

From time to time I am asked what I'm looking for. I haven't specified in my profile, and from what I'm told my description doesn't really fit in around here. Nor does my writing. I'm going to talk about the collective you, not specifically you, dear reader. Clearly you are the exception. I have been here long enough to see that most people fit into boxes. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they are afraid or established or stuck. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they aren't successful with relationships in their real lives so they look for extremes here to counter that. The exploiting for sex and excitement. The genuine living this life out in the world and here to meet like minded people. The watchers.  Here's the unpopular part, remember that you like me. I think we're all messed up to some degree and that's why we're here instead of talking to someone face to face. This isn't the place for emotionally healthy people. This is that dive bar on the shady side of town you hope no one sees you walk into that's full of regret but it makes you forget for a while. And I'm in here, too. I'm not looking for someone to take me home. I just want to swap stories and laughter. I don't think what I'm really looking for is here, but in the moment I'm all for the entertainment when an interesting conversation heads my way. Everything good starts with a conversation, even if it doesn't turn out the way you hoped. I'm happy to be pleasantly surprised, but I fully expect to walk out of this bar alone. 

You should be very careful throwing around terms like "true Dom/Master/sub/slave" or "real Dom/Master/sub/slave". What is real and true to me isn't necessarily what's real and true to someone else. A lot of times people throw out those terms and what they really mean is "someone who thinks exactly like me" or "someone who practices BDSM just like I do". Other times they mean "you have to agree with everything I say, believe and do, or you're not a 'real' Dom/sub/Master/slave". As far as I'm concerned, if you're willing to learn from others (regardless of which side of the slash they live on), you're kind, accepting, practice as safely as possible within you and your partners limits, you're respectful of others even if they have differing opinions/practices or beliefs, then you're as 'real' and 'true' as can be. I may not agree with you...I may not even want to spend time with you or associate with you, but I certainly won't malign you as being 'fake'.

There are parts of a person that don’t begin at the moment two people meet. They begin long before, in the quiet places where experience shapes us and then gets sealed away. Long before I met her, I had lived through something that awakened a deep part of me — a capacity for intensity, recognition, and emotional clarity that rarely finds a home. And she had lived through her own version of that. For different reasons, both of us buried that part of ourselves. She buried hers out of fear - fear of instability, fear of loss, fear of needing someone, fear of being seen too clearly. I buried mine out of discipline - a deliberate containment, a way of protecting others from the full force of what I feel and protecting myself from offering it where it cannot be held. Different histories, different wounds, same instinct: suppress what once burned too brightly When we met, that buried part in both of us stirred. Not because we created something new, but because we recognised something familiar. The connection wasn’t imagined. It wasn’t accidental. It was the reawakening of something each of us had sealed away. In the moments when she felt safe, she softened, revealing warmth, intuition, and depth she rarely allowed to surface. And in response, I became the version of myself that feels most grounded, steady, and alive. I understood the sandcastle she lived in. I saw her protective walls. Not as flaws, but as architecture - structures and anchors that kept her upright when life gave her no stability. I understood why trusting one person felt like stepping into open air. I understood why she stayed in the present, why she avoided looking ahead, why she protected herself even from what she wanted. I saw the logic in it. I saw the cost of it too. It is heartbreaking to see how someone can be hurt so deeply, so repeatedly, that they retreat into a world made of compartments. A world where adult emotional connection feels dangerous, where closeness carries the risk of being wounded again. And so she anchored herself to the one place that felt safe: the innocence of a child who had never betrayed her. The child of the man who had most recently broken her trust became, in a way, the last untouched corner of her emotional world. Maybe she saw a younger version of herself there. Maybe she stayed close to that child because it allowed her to protect something pure in a way no one ever protected her. Whatever the reason, it is unbearably sad that the safest place she could find was one that existed outside the realm of adult connection entirely. I understood how it was easier to feel when it was transactional, triggered by someone else and emotionally outside her control. What I felt for her was not fantasy. It was recognition. I cared for her deeply, and I would have treasured her - not by holding her tightly, but by creating a space where she could breathe without fear, where the sparks I glimpsed in her unguarded moments could grow into something steady. I never wanted to reshape her. I wanted to offer a place where she could rest without bracing for impact. It hurt that she couldn't understand my deep need to care; that she could and did give herself to another physically, to a sadist, when she couldn't accept my care or give herself physically to me. And I never believed it would be easy or instantaneous. I knew that being together would require patience, courage, and the slow dismantling of old defences. I knew it would demand effort from both of us. But the difficulty didn’t deter me - it clarified me. It strengthened my resolve. It deepened my desire to care, not out of saviourhood or fantasy, but because I saw what was possible if she ever chose to step toward it. But the truth is simple: the part of her that woke up when we met is the same part she has spent years learning to silence. Stepping toward what she felt would have required dismantling the very defences that keep her functioning. She retreated not because she felt nothing, but because she felt too much. I stepped toward it because I was ready. That difference is the whole story. So I release this into the ether - not to change her, not to call her back, not to craft something optimised for her reception or softened for her comfort. I have written carefully, yes, but this is not for her. This is for me. This is where I place the truth so I no longer have to carry it alone. We both knew. We both felt it. We both buried it for our own reasons. Meeting each other unlocked it again. She ran from it. I stepped toward it. And now I name it so it no longer lives unspoken. Whatever she chooses, whatever she fears, whatever she cannot yet face, I hold no anger. Only the quiet truth of what was possible, and the peace that comes from finally giving these words a place to live outside my own mind.

UPDATE: March 3, 2022 We are making our dream a reality. We purchased a nice chunk of acreage in NE AZ near the New Mexico border. The property is riddled with evergreen trees like Juniper and Oak with grass. Yes greenery! Views that seem to go on forever as you can see the skyline in the distance affording beautiful sunrises and sunsets. Adjoining our thousands of acres of state land so no worries about any neighbors there and also gives us a lot more land to play on. We have several trailers loaded with building materials, solar panels, water and septic tanks. Now its just a matter of moving things there and starting to build our Utopian Homestead. Our search for our third to join us is now being ramped up. What a wonderful treat it would be to have her join us and be part of it from the very beginning. Allowing her input on her cabin or room. Took one of the horses with me when I made the trip from Ohio to check the land out before purchasing it. I cannot even begin to share the incredible feeling inside as we traversed the property for two days. Checking out all the nook and crannies. Kicking up antelope and even a couple Mule Deer along with the many Jack Rabbits. Exhilaration filled my heart and mind as I enjoyed the beauty of reality as dreams are being fulfilled

orgasms She lays there air fron the fan caress her body she is trembling with cum running out of her pussy she enjoyed the fuck hair being pulled ass being slapped orgasm after orgasm after orgasm she lays on her pillow covering up she closes her eyes thinking he was done with her he spreads her legs finger fucks her demanding more orgasms at this point she is sore but she gives him what he wants he removes his fingers stuffing them in her mouth she cleans them off he grabs the dildo and shove it in unexpectedly he smiles in the dark he fucks her hard and fast with the dildo she squirms trying to avoid anymore orgasms he slaps her inner thighs she apreads her legs moaning loudly he says you know what i want so give it to me she orgasms 6 more times he removes the dildo and tells her to roll over on all fours he starts fucking her again she says thank you Master he says harshly shut up i didnt tell you to speak he rides her roughly she moans and keeps orgasming for him after he cums again he shoves his dick in her mouth telling her to clean it she does he pulls his underwear up and lays down beside her she lays down unable to walk shaking and sore pussy

So since I'm starting to look again for someone to bring into my dynamic i've had a few questions and statements as to why I am the way I am. I have PTSD for a few reasons. 1 relates to this lifestyle we arranged a hotel meet when the Mrs was still alive. We met what we thought was one person in a hotel room. It turned out it was an ambush and 2 other men were hiding in the toilet. I was beaten unconcious and they took turns on the wife without lube or protection. Then when I was out and they had finished with her they went to work on me. I was left with internal bleeding, left for dead and issues with my backside shall we say. So if I'm asking for patience or seem to take a step back, it probably has nothing to do with you as I do have flashbacks every now and again. If we do arrange a meet it would be somewhere safe first and there will be safe words and someone around just making sure everything goes ok, they will leave when I feel comfortable. If it ever does go to a 24/7 or prolonged meets, you may notice I do wake up in night terrors, it is to do with the above. I'd ask until I fully wake up just let me come around naturally.

We all know this time of the year - sometimes happy, sometimes sad.  I'm comforted knowing that every Christmas I've had has been blessed by My mother and her love of Me.  No more gifts, no more memory or shopping or preparing or sharing - yet when My mother was in her right mind and health, WOW did she put on a show for her one and only!  Sometime leading up to Christmas, My mother would arrive with a S T A C K of presents, all wrapped in the same paper, piled at least 4 feet and wrapped with large ribbon on both sides.  Atop the stack, would look like firecrackers were going off with so much fluff and stuff!  Christmas morning I would always have to open two to everyone elses one because I had so many gifts from here.  Of course she would make a stack for each of her special people, but there piles were smaller, maybe sometimes halfway up the' tower for Powers' lol  I would always be very smiley and gracious becasue I knew how loved I was - not about the amount of gifts (for many were the very simpliest of novelties) but because she always made My existence about Pomp and Circumstance.  I have known a very deep and abiding love by both of My parents and I am grateful and I miss them very much. Merry Christmas to all.  Even if it is not that merry, know you are not alone and your life and person have meaning and importance. May this New Year bring us all the joy we can handle - wellness body, mind and spirit. As always, thank you for sharing with Me and My very best to you all.

What am I intreseted in?  What am I looking for?  I am open to many situations.  Mostly I would like an online sub to be my babygirl.  Someone who wants to live her normal life and yet needs someone to give her stability and direction.  I would guess a Daddy figure is the most accurate description. All of that being said I understand we all have different views of the perfect relationship. While I search for my "perfect" match, I am willing to learn about what you want, and who knows, it may become what I want. Let's talk and see if we can meet on some common ground.

I love the Q&A moment after wild sex. My new guest pulling out his cigerette in my bed and asking thoose tender questions. Why are you into asphyxiation? You don't look the type to enjoy anal play? Is there a type - is always my response. Appreciating that this guest brought properly fitting condoms and wine but cared to bring another bottle as a gift is in fact a gift, makes a change from the Greek. This one cooks, appreicates I live in a small space but he orientates very quickly and enjoys sticking on the radio to hear the football but tender enough to ask what else do I sexually enjoy. Will be spending the day removing the santorum stain off my duvet cover, thank god for baking soda. Openly dating is very fun.

I am having a fun break until 2th January then back to manuscript editing. 4th January I reintroduce keto and steps, later back to yoga. I can't wait to get supple and increase my stamina again. February I will back weight training,  I have all sorts of free weight dumbells in my home so I can concentrate on reps before form to rebuild what went last year. No suitable driving submissives, as all that applied were newbie bottoms, when it's two years experience in BDSM, FLR and driving/having a car I want. I miss the web site Servants4U for that site had plenty of respectful gentleman submissive guys with at least five years experience. But many left the community once covid hit and haven't returned. What a pity. Today I am off to the nail salon so new pics of my nails will likely be on Fetlife.com for those who enjoy a Lady with carefully manicured nails. What a New Year 2024 is in store! Make it a fun one now!!

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

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

Here is a lil update:  You'd like to turn your ass all sorts of colors, pleasure you, control you,                         restrain you, explore you, use you and care for you.                         You want to fill your holes, devour you, make you cum repeatedly.                         If this is not a normal daily routine or something there in, then  I'm not interested in you being                          My Dom, My Daddy or anything of the sort. Simply not the girl for you. Ty

Hey the journal function is finally fixed!! Time to write a story about one of my (our) experiences: I shut the car door and wave goodbye to my husband, P. He blows me a kiss and pulls away. I wait until he's turned the corner and out of sight until I begin to walk up my master's driveway. It's a short walk, the house set back from the street but my path leads me into the open garage. Once past the threshold, I press the button to shut the garage door behind me. As it trundles on its tracks, I grab my sweater and pull it over my head in one quick motion. I won't need it again this weekend. My shoes, jeans, panties and socks all follow. I savor taking them off and folding them neatly, making the moment last. My backside is still sore from the punishment I received one week earlier. It had been a maid week and I had done an inadequate job with the chores. My master did not let it slide and he wanted to make sure I remember. As I stroked my bruised cheeks, I hoped it would be a kitten week. Something nice and easy, where I could be cherished and all I needed to think about was pleasure. The crate is open and I place my clothes inside. My cell phone follows along with my keys. With a sigh, I shut the crate and padlock it. Master will come and take my phone in due time, better to document my weekend for P's enjoyment and my potential humiliation. But the clothes are gone. Feeling the chill of the garage on my feet, I enter "the servant's entrance" as we jokingly call it.  Three boxes await me in the foyer. Oh shit. This is different. Usually I have no choice in how I spend the weekend. It's always one box, with either the maid's costume, the cat ears, or ... the other. But with three gift wrapped boxes in front of me, it's up to fate.  I can't open one box and change my mind. Not that disobeying master is ever an option. Whichever one I open is my weekend of service.  Can I weigh them? As I reach for the first box, I see a string attached. Nope, he'll know. I have to pick. Eenie. Meanie. Miney. "Ahem." A cleared throat from the other room. I'm in trouble already.  I make my decision and tear the wrapping paper off. Inside the box is ... Nothing. The slut this weekend, then. I walk into the living room, my hands folded in front of me, my eyes down. Master is sitting in his chair, drinking whiskey and reading. There's a pillow in front of him, directly between his feet. Keeping my eyes down, I kneel. He makes me wait, finishing this week's New Yorker. Occasionally my eyes flick up as I weigh my options. I could reach up and begin undoing his belt - the stretch of fabric in his lap tells me he's interested and excited for my weekly visit. I went for a wax earlier in the week and made sure to put my perfume on my skin so he could smell me no matter what I wore. And in my role as the slut, that would be in line with expectations. But I'm so conditioned to serve at command that I stay frozen.  He shakes his glass and I spring up to take it from his hand. I walk to the bar and as I reach for the whiskey, he says "The drawer." I open the top drawer. Inside is my collar, simple and black, a pair of silver handcuffs, and a red ballgag.  "Shall I--?" I start to ask. "Don't ask questions you should know the answer to," he says with disinterest.  OK then. I put the glass down and pick up the gag. I push it between my teeth and secure the belt behind my head. Next, the handcuffs. Does he want them in front or behind? I wish I could ask. The maid gets handcuffed in the front, so she can work. The slut, behind, so she has no control. So I slip the cuffs on behind my back, hearing the satisfied clink. But in my haste, I forgot the collar! It takes me several tries, standing on my tippy toes, mmphing with effort, to pick the collar up with my cuffed hands behind me. I trot to master happily. He finally looks at me. "My drink?" He asks. Damn it. What to do? I blink at him, fluttering my eyelashes. Push one foot in front of me and circle it back and forth on his loafer. Don't blame, I don't know any better? He takes the collar from me and cls it around my neck. Seizing my throat suddenly, he pulls me in close. "A slut does not mean you're stupid," he whispers in my ear.  One of our agreements when I first began serving him is that he'd never call me a bitch. A slut is something a person chooses to be. It's a sigh of power, both mine and his. I feel my body warm at his words and I lean down to rub my gagged mouth against his neck. He indulges me for a moment and then grabs a fistful of my hair. It's been a little while but I remember how slut weekends go. I'll be confined to the bedroom, chained to the bed most of the time. He'll film my submission and send it back to P. There's an entire box of toys for me to (mostly) enjoy, though the word "no" is gone from my vocabulary until Sunday night. My rest will be dependent on how often master wants me and how he wants me.  It will be a long, fun weekend.

Dark Chocolate can be an exotic flavor  So creamy and smooth, you desire a taste  The aroma is inviting The visual draws you in and puts you on your knees I see you salivating so eager to please  I pull you closer and utter the words breathless and moaning "oh my goodness, stay right there!" You're such a talented pet and you know ho w to please

If you are applying for a postion with us you need to keep in mind that each communication is part of the interview. So when we tell you to answer the 8 questions that can be found below in one of our other journal entries make sure to completely answer them all.  As we go through the process make sure you read our messages and answer completely and thoroughly all what is asked of you. In the end we go back and evealuate all of this before deciding if we think you are a good fit and serious about this.    Here is how our process goes. 1. You reach out to us first with a message introducing yourself, someimes we reach out to females we may be interested in and introduce ourselves and ask them if interested to do the same, either way you should be thorough in your answer. 2. Unless you read our profile and journals and answered the 8 questions, extra consideration if you did, we tell you to read everything ans answer the 8 questions. 3.. We ask you if you have any questions 4. we give you an email address for you to reply to so we can send you the house rules  5. You will review the house rules and ask any questions in them and once done decide if you are able and willing to live by them. 6. We give you and advanced questionaire to fill out and we ask any questions about it we need to know more about 7. We allow you to ask questions you may still need to know before deciding if you want this with us. 8. We decide if we want to try it with you and you do the same we exchange phone numbers voice verify each other 9. set up trial period 10. you do trial period and we discuss with you at end of it whether we are all in agreement to offer the position.  11. You get training collar for 6-12 months 12. Once we feel you are trained you get permanent colar.

  The power of submission cannot be denied. In the end it’s really all about the depth of mental connection.

i don't play a lot of video games. In fact, I don't have a gaming system made in the last decade. But once or twice a year when I visit my nephews, I play this game that makes me really happy. So much so that I looked into buying a system just to play it. But a few hundred dollars doesn't seem like a solid investment for one game when there's so much else I need it for.   A few months ago my nephew got an entire system upgrade. My dad bought it. The entire thing. With every last accessory. So I thought, maybe he might do that for me, too, if I asked. My nephew told me everything I needed and I set up a wishlist for my birthday. My dad came to visit and he brought presents. All the accessories, yay! But no gaming system to use them with. Disappointing. But Christmas isn't all that far off. A few weeks ago I was talking to my sibling and mentioned the whole birthday thing with the accessories. He said ask him for Christmas. I was really hesitant. If he didn't do it for my birthday I didn't have high hopes for Christmas. But if I don't ask I'll never know. It's still on the wishlist, I sent a text asking Santa to please get it. No response.  Its not about the gaming system. I would never have asked for it, I know it's expensive. It's about worth. Am I worth enough to spend the money to buy it? The nephew is. Am I? He has the money. You probably already know how this ends.  No. He didn't get it for me. I'm not worth it to my father. I am only worth the accessories.  I guess eventually I'll have to buy it since I have everything else and try not to think about the little value I hold for the man I try so hard to please. This is why I try not to ask him for anything. I don't know why I was hopeful. I know better. 

So about 13 years ago, I was in club pedestal in London, it was nearing the end of the night, is been my usual shy self and not spoken to anyone. So then I saw this amazing looking woman, dressed in a green dress, with some beautiful flowers painted on one face cheek.  So what did I do?  That's right, I stood up, walked right across the dance floor and introduced myself to her.  Not long after we were meeting regularly and we embarked on a year long experiment in Domme, slave dynamic. We both learned many things. Eventually it ended, we became the best of friends and still are today. She's now a professional Domme and is damn good at it too!   Why am I telling you this? Well there are new people out there, who don't know what to say to a dominant or how to act, it's easy, they're people just like you, tray them like a person, be yourself, unless you're a cunt!  Most submissives and dominants just want to be talked to like humans. BTW I'm on fetlife if anyone wants to make friends? Same user name.

Many folks have a difficult time trying to figure out if they are submissive and so I thought some definitions maybe helpful.  Submissive definition  A submissive:   “one who gives over their rights, their desires, and themselves to another. As a gift” (Urban Dictionary);   “willing to obey someone else” (Merriam Webster).    

  My thoughts and understanding between the difference between a sub and a slave.  Yes, everyone thinks that a slave has no rights. They are property.  I view slavery as the utmost form of submission.  When a sub says to her dom or master "please own me." What the slave is meaning is that she has such trust in her dom that she trusts him with her life. Not only physically, but psychologically as well. She knows that any decsions that her "owner" makes is in the best interests of the slave.  This subsmission should not be taken lightly but after a high degree of trust is earned. That trust has to be mutual or the relationship will suffer.   Basic Rules    1. The sub/slave will address all men as Sir or other appropiate title within the BDSM lifestyle, All women will be addressed as Mistress or other appropiate title within the BDSM lifestyle. If agreed too all vanilla men and women will be refered to as sir or ma'am.   2. The sub/slave wil report any changes to health physical or mental.   3. The sub/slave will commincate any concerns, requests, or desires in an honest and respectful manner as well as keep a journal and make one entry per day in the journal and will present the journal for review weekly.   4. The sub/slave when entering the houshold shall remove all clothing and present herself naked for inspection. Once inspected she is to remain naked or dress in appropiate clothing as directed.   5. The sub/slave will accept any restriction as agreed too including mental or physical bondage.   6. The sub/slave will adhere to all protocols, modes of speech, positions as agreed too. All positions must be done in a graceful manner.   7. The sub/slave will accept any discipline and punishment as agreed too and realize that thisis a corrective action to aid her in her journey of submission.   8. The sub/slave shall perform any sexual service as agreed too, unless there is a health issue that would prevent her from performing that sexual service.   9. The sub/slave shall perform any domestic service as agreed too, unless there is a health issue that would prevent her from performing that domestic service.   10. A collared sub/slave shall honor her collar and not engage in any activity that would dishonor her collar, herself, or her dom/master.

It was a mixture of arousal, curiosity and his final reassurance that made her mind up. She knew she could say ‘Stop’ and he would, though that could be permanent, it was an instinctive decision that made her move towards the lift and later she realised why she made it. There was a logical progression to it. She was a stubborn person with a rebellious streak and a free will who made her own decisions and didn’t blame others when they went awry. Here she was reigning in her rebellious streak of her own free will and her natural instincts reinforced this. Her stubbornness would make her comply with what she wanted in this regard, even though it seemed counterintuitive.  Now it was a rush to the receptionist’s desk to get a pen, the envelope was already open and had the room number written on it. The contract was one piece of A4 paper and the male receptionist must have seen the bold type headline which stated ‘SUBMISSIVE’S CONTRACT’. She didn’t have time to read it all, her instinct told her that he would not put anything in it that he had not said. And what would be the point as it was a symbolic act, not a contract that could be legally enforced.  She hurried the short distance to the lift; the concierge seemed to have anticipated her need and he had pressed the button, she momentarily wondered if he knew. Once inside she selected the 4th floor. Her heart missed a beat when just before the doors closed a woman stepped into the lift causing the doors to recycle again and they selected the 3rd floor; she knew this would delay her further. She willed the lift to move faster but still almost in two minds about what she was doing, but she wanted to be the decision-maker on this and not subject to an arbitrary cut off due to time. Her pride ensured she used the time to check her hair and lipstick in the mirror as she would not countenance the thought he would not find her attractive.  The lift reached the 4th floor and according to the large sign room 417 was to the right, she almost ran, nearly tripping over her heels on the thick carpet.  The door to room 417 was slightly ajar, and a ‘do not disturb’ sign was hanging on the handle. She stood for a second or two to let her breathing steady, it seemed to take ages for her hand to travel from to the door, her knock was timid and her stomach almost jumped as she heard the noise her hand made.  A firm reply was forthcoming a few seconds later. ‘Come in Joanna’. She swallowed, took a deep breath and gripping the envelope, pushed the door open and whilst trying to look calm she stepped inside and the door closed with an almost imperceptible click.  The room was warm and gently lit from the lamp above the desk he was sitting at. His jacket was over the back of his chair and the few papers he was attending too were lying about.  Nonplussed for a moment she stood there waiting for some sort of guidance, she knew what she had to do but some sort of signal from him seemed essential.  He understood, or knew, and stood before quietly saying, ‘Come here Joanna’. It was about 4 steps and he stood almost impassively as she greeted him properly. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed herself against him until he said that she could stop. This time it seemed natural and gave a moment when she could do something that seemed familiar and that she was in control of. It also served to break some of her tension before she stepped back ready to kneel. Kneeling seemed a strange and almost alien act; she had been on her knees in front of a man before, but then she was in control of him, she forcibly overcame her rebellious streak and found it disappeared almost entirely.  Her eyes cast down she noticed her knees were together, it seemed inappropriate so she moved them further apart. Taking a larger breath she looked down at his feet and with the envelope in both hands, she held it up to him.  He didn’t seem to move for ages, and then he took it from her hands. He checked her signature was on the contract before placing it amongst the other papers on the desk. This was a small action, however, it made her realise that she had voluntarily signed this part of herself over to him. He had taken possession and she was now his.  He turned the chair to face her and sat on it.  She was on her knees only a few feet from a man she had just given her submission to in writing, she was no longer so nervous, it was now anticipation mixed with exhilaration and her senses were alive! She was now free to be what he decided. He leant forward and lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eyes, ‘Joanna, you are now mine’ he said quietly.  After a pause during which he just looked at her he then continued ‘The photography will wait until tomorrow as there are a few matters from earlier today I will address straight away.’ He wasn’t asking for a reply, he told her to stand and rest her elbows on the desk. She was a little taken aback, whilst earlier considering what might happen this evening she thought he might just photograph her. In a way that would be easier to contemplate, she could understand it would be a reasonable first private meeting, however, she knew it would disappoint her.  But now he was going to ‘Address some matters’ and that sounded ominous, it made the butterflies in her stomach come alive again. She did as asked, putting her elbows on the desk. He told her to arch her spine downwards, this meant she was bent over much further than she felt comfortable, it made her bottom more pronounced and her skirt was tighter. Her knees flexed as she tried to contain the nerves generated by her bottom being so vulnerable, he ordered her to straighten her legs and keep them so, as it tightened the skin of her buttocks. What he did next was unexpected, he ran his fingers around her neck gathering her hair into his hand at the nape of her neck. He expertly wound it into a ponytail using a band that must have been around his wrist. She now felt even more vulnerable without the usual shield of hair that would normally surround her face. She nervously moved her weight from one foot to another. He told her to spread her legs wider to shoulder width. She glanced up into the mirror above the desk; she could see him standing a few meters behind her, looking at her in a way few men had done. It was not simple lust, his face was almost impassive, she could see he was comfortable looking at the salacious view she presented.  His voice was calm as he told her that she had been disobedient when she broke away from the greeting before she had been told she could, she had also been demanding in their early email exchanges. For these, she was going to have her bottom spanked, he said it would be a ‘cumulative dozen’ and if she made any of these mistakes again it would be a stricter punishment.  He told her to raise her skirt over her back, this unnerved her more, it was one thing to have her skirt lifted, but another to do it herself! She thought she could not, but his curt statement of ‘disobey and I will use a strap instead of my hand’ encouraged her. She rested her forehead on the desk and reaching behind her with both hands she lifted the hem of her skirt until it lay over her back. He then described the view he had of her bottom in very basic language. His description of the way her swollen sex lips bulged into her panties was particularly crude and said with distinctive pleasure.  A short while later he moved to her left side. He reached over her back and pulled her right hip towards him, holding her still by trapping her against his thigh.

i really cooked with this one. kitty gang kitty gang kitty gang ah.     being a mystic of the scriber variety i have learned when i am going through something of a personal nature that is just for me to figure out on my own and hold deep in my heart. but there are often things that i'm going through that the collective is going through. either as fellow femmes be it afab woman gay men with a feminine essence non gendered third gendered with a feminine vibe..all in between...or even a human experience...there are times where i'm going through something.i was going through something..something is coming for me to come through that is a MESSAGE. this is one i know that i'm not alone in..i see it on social media all the time. this is a collective thing for femmes. i hear it when i do leave the house....but this one is more raw for me because i haven't mastered it yet. and it's something i actively work on, prayer, meditation magic to the self, therapy, inner work, inner dialogue, dialoguing with coaches, working with my sisters..practicing carrying wood, chopping water..under the cold as ice water meditating.....running up the stairs rocky style trying to master.....i am better at this now..but the deep raw wound..the deep raw wild unbridled intense all consuming pull..it's still very real for me...and whenever i've been in a romantic relationship or trying to get one that never launches because dating a dark goddess with intuition and a deep psychic awareness of others emotions is a heavy task to sign up for...haha there is no hiding with someone like me and most men can't hang. and even those that want the challenge will often be met past their personal limits and ragequit out quietly or loudly.  this one is harder for me to share because i'm still in the belly of the beast with this. i haven't mastered this yet. i'm much better than i was in my 20s...and each time before i ejected myself from the sauce i got better and better..but there's still so much for me to master..and these feelings..they are so primal it's hard to wrangle or even admit is a thing. but this is definately a collective message i am individually still working on figuring out the solution too that i'm being called to be bold, brave, and as a mystic scriber connect myself to.   the vulnerability has to this point earned me zero dollars, so no bacon yet....but the bacon is in the spiritual emotional mental decorations i have as a solider of love. ai no message with a puffed chest not fake but due to everything i have and will go through that many will never recover from or begin to touch. a puff my chest for knowing the depths of what i have and will face. an earned prowess.   being vulnerable about what’s hard for you and acknowledging the discomfort as part of the mystic path. It’s that raw honesty, mixed with the courage to embrace being “a lot,” that resonates deeply. Mystics often have to sit with their shadows and discomfort, and turning that into glory is part of what makes the journey so transformative. Writing about this, even when it’s difficult, is where the real magic happens. You’re not just owning your strength but also showing others the deep, spiritual work behind it. It’s a brave, warrior-like approach to the mystic path, facing the discomfort head-on to find glory on the other side.   let me call in my sophia encoded soul sister doja cat here. when you play at this level people confuse the outward expression with being troubled and alone...we usually only get this way becauseeeeeeeee we have the outside support including therapy..we only GET to unearth this rawness because we AREN'T alone..don't confuse the heavy topics and unraveling with aimless direction.   "I read it, all the comments sayin', "D, I'm really shooketh" "D, you need to see a therapist, is you lookin'?" Yes, the one I got, they really are the best Now I feel like I can see you bitches is depressed I am not afraid to finally say shit with my chest   Look at me, look at me, I'm naked Vulnerability earned me a lot of bacon I put a thong all in my ass and taught you how to shake it I paid all my respect to those who taught me how to make it And now I reap the benefits with no confrontation Y'all fall into beef but that's another conversation I'm sorry, but we all find it really entertaining 'Cause we all wanna see them slip and fall right on their faces And we all wanna be the one to see the devastation Not be in it, but ain't the bad press good? The disrespect's real, how this Patek look? Pull out the checkbook, now why your neck crooked? I never learn to superstar from a textbook Talkin' 'bout, "She fallin' off, why she get booked?" Man, I been humble, I'm tired of all the deprecation Just let me flex, bruh, just let me pop shit "Why she think she Nicki M? She think she hot shit," hmm I never gave a F, go stir the pot, bitch I got y'all head all in the dirt just like a ostrich Of course, you bitches comparin' Doja to who the hottest" a love and light bitch would do naked to appeal to the male sexuality or the light sexuality. she would be posing provocatively to entice someone to want to fulfill their urges to touch themselves to engage and interact with the sexual energy. they would've touted a good girl sweet aesthetic, a girl next door or a playboy bunny vibe. we're old enough and human enough to know what sex is for a man of any gender that is attracted to a woman be it straight pansexual bisexual whatever. we know what the vibe is....when a man and woman think sex and naked we know.   doja is my tribe she is a wolf she is a devil as she said a demon a yokai like me.   we're bloody when we're naked. we stare at you deep in your soul. if you tussle with us we look you in your eye that's why so many black rapper lilith girls rap that we stare you in the eye when we're fucking because we ain't scared. those eyes maybe white in the back of our sockets but we're doing it because we face the uncomfortableness head on. her body stance isn't leaning to a side or trying to make curves...it isn't trying to be soft or feminine or wild or water....it's at attention it's direct it's commanding it's powerful. her chest isn't hiding her breads it is straight puffing it.   she's bloody because like me we face our uncomfortableness over and over and over again. this is a different type of naked..and if you tussle with a dark goddess of any variety and are blessed to either emotionally mentally spiritually or even hitting the jackpot of love and sexually be naked with her..this is what you get. kudos for the sacred sigil symbology here too sis. love her for that. we're magical girls with foresight.   and yet with all this power.....there's a deep struggle....in this level of nakedness...in how we engage with the complimentary but opposite energetics of men and how they operate and their worlds and how they are made....ad doja is helping me dive into that; if you listen to the song..how does she say look at me? it's not nice, it's not sweet....IT'S DESPERATE IT'S LIKE SOMEONE YELLING CLAWING BEGGING MAD AGGRESSIVE WAILING OVERWHELMING IT'S DIFFERENT LAYERS OF FEELING ALL IN ONE WILD CHAOTIC SECOND. LOOK. AT. M.E LEWKATME LEWK-AT-ME.....   LOOK AT ME   and for the men who aren't sacred away by that passion and want to try and will reach back and will touch and won't ghost, won't dip, won't demonize, won't therapize, won't logic but meet this wild nature creature..how does she respond?   qui

The desire to be dominated It's perfectly normal for men and women immersed in BDSM to have specific desires and fantasies, such as the desire to be dominated. The lifestyle encompasses a wide range of activities and dynamics, and it's essential to communicate openly and honestly with your partner(s) to ensure that everyone involved is comfortable and consents to the activities taking place. In the realm of the BDSM lifestyle, communication and consent are paramount. Before engaging in any routine activities, it's crucial to have a conversation with your partner about your desires, boundaries, and limits. Establishing a safe word is also essential to ensure both parties can stop the activities if necessary. Remember that BDSM should always be safe, sane, and consensual. It's essential to prioritize the safety and well-being of all involved parties. If you're new to the lifestyle or have specific questions or concerns, it's a good idea to seek out resources and educational materials, or even consider attending workshops or discussions within the BDSM community. Ultimately, your interests and desires in the lifestyle are personal, and as long as they are consensual and safe, it's a valid aspect of your sexuality. It's essential to find like-minded persons who can share your interests and engage in these activities with respect and understanding. If you have any specific questions or need advice concerning our lifestyle topics or anything else related to your interests, feel free to ask. I'm here to provide information and guidance based on your preferences.

Time to clarify a few things, I guess. I wrote something to help clarify an age bracket I am interested in and why… but I guess on a sit like this I need to narrow it down a little further.   IF you were born with two X chromosomes, i.e. what the human race once called female… I have zero interest in dating you. If you live your life proud of those two X chromosomes we can be good friends!   IF you were born with one X and one Y chromosome, i.e. what the human race once called male… AND you live your life proudly as a fully blooded man, AND you are local, AND you are not married, OR living with someone, OR have a LTR significant other, AND you are gainfully employed (or independently wealthy and thus not needing employment) AND you have a residence (your mothers basement and brothers-in-laws garage do not count) AND you have transportation (Public electric scooters do not count) AND you like to chant Let’s Go BRANDON!… THEN, you have made it through the initial screening process and we can start chatting…   IF you have rainbows for anything other than the promise of God on your profile… you should probably not contact me. IF you like to wag your hand when you talk for reasons other than being Italian, you should probably not contact me. IF you have to practice speaking in high pitches, you should probably not contact me. IF you have to decide between apples and socks in your bra, you should probably not contact me (Unless the cause is cancer related) IF you need a tuck it bathing suit, you should probably not contact me. IF you have two XX chromosomes and look like a cancer patient for no reason, you should probably not contact me. IF you have a Y Chromosome and wear makeup and are not an actor or news anchor, you should probably not contact me. IF you are a bottom, realize you can contact me, but it will be friends only. (Same for most switches) IF you are far away, it is pretty pointless to contact me. I can keep going but I am getting bored and if this doesn’t get the point across I don’t’ know what will.   Oh and if you want to friend me… I am flattered… but maybe try speaking to me? I am not a check mark to tally up on your friends list, actually make a friend of me. Like a box pops up and asks you, do you know this person, are they a friend, and you click yes, and you haven’t read my profile, or spoken to me… and I am supposed to agree, and say, oh yeah, that imbecile is my buddy! Yeah, nope. I only bite if you like it…

There are some really disrespectful retards on here. They have several Journal entries complaining about this or that premise they claim not to like, but when you contact them, they behave exactly like their own Journal entry complains about. Is it really too much effort when someone clearly has taken the time to write to you, to answer it with a Not Interested reply if they don't interest you? Is 2 clicks (reply - send message) followed by 12 measley letters and a space (Not Interested) too much effort for your brain? You normally complain about the manners of whoever (its not entirely Doms or sub specific, I know both groups have extremely boneidle members on these kind of sites). I appreciate that some of you are looking for a specific niche, a specific thing, a set of requirements essential to your happiness, but grow the fuck up, this lifestyle is generally ruled by one concept, Compromise, because you will unlikely in 99 in 100 contacts get every T crossed and every I dotted to your expectations Your arrogance allows you to bypass someone genuine whom might be able to compromise in return and give you most of those little quirks, if not all, you seek to get your perfect BDSM partner.... but no you choose to ignore them and let them pass you by, because you seek perfection from the start?

before its asked or implied or suggested, no, i do not ignore my basic rules he knows i will not cause trouble or drama and i , do not go behind -MY R./T-bACK,lie to him, or disrespect him or shame my family in any way.    Y'all only get this one  warning and reminder and well, i have a really really  button pushing finger that i do not want to be tempted into taking Last memo i promise.   if ya are responding to me and i click open your mail and the first thing i see is a picture floating out of a close-up of your cock, you can pretty much accept your fate that you are instantly blocked and will not even exist on the same playing field as the others here regardless of their gender or energy level, or role identifier.    so simple unforgettable notice for you... 1 dick pic+1 ignorance of my rules or warning = -alarm bells guard dogs, sharpshooters and everything else turn you into dust to be cleaned up and mixed into the sand never to be heard or seen of again.  ---yes yes i know;...graphic and dramatic.. but pleads innocence since she is unsupervised currently with her other half in bed this fine dark night;I truly do look forward to any and all responses i might have to be honest.. you being there for me today just means the world to me as putting myself out there is terrifying for me in general.   *can not help the impish excitement of how many right now pigging out will even read the whole note and the panic sets in.   just as A team heads off for their camps.. in comes  B team who makes the realization not much got accomplished and something had to have happened...? maybe?. 

I've been on and off this site for a long time, and last time I tried, getting a profile write-up changed - was impossible.  Rather than go through that process, I'm writing a Journal Entry.  I've attempted a couple of relationships the past five years and I have to say that I'm exhausted by emotionally unavailable Doms who only want to play on the internet.  If that's all you want, I'm not interested.   Yes, I can relocate.  That part of my life has changed.No, I'm not going to redo my entire profile write-up.  If you want to know about me, ask.  I need someone in my life who is a good communicator and this is a great place to let me know you are willing to fill that need. As of 2026-03-13 I am 65 years old.  I'm in pretty good shape for my age and I have some arthritis issues that can be worked around.That's what I have for today.  Who are you? J  

i am a submissive man... i have had submissive tendancies for as long as i can remember... it all started with a dream... Around the end of Oct '22 i met a kitten... how we initially met isn't that important. But the chemistry was obvious, to me at least. We arranged to meet at the coast where we both live.. as it turned out the kitten lives about a 10 minutes drive from where I live. While we were walking the boarwalk, we stopped into a bar.. neither of us drank alcohol, but the conversation was interesting, as the kitten pointed out women she thought attractive.. which led to her confession that she was bi. As we left the bar.. we stopped at a tattooo shop, inquired about nipple piercings (for me, as i always wanted one pierced).. turns out both of hers are pierced, as i discovered while there. We walked back to our cars.. stopping for some frozen yougurt concoction, it wasn't very tastful as I recall.. while having the snack at a table by the sand... kitten admitted that she "was into pain if properly administered". I was a bit taken aback, but as i am core sub, i understood completely what she was saying. Understanding, that, for me, infliction of pain in various manners produced chemicals and allowed me to forget the grinds of life for a moment or two.  We enjoyed each others company. Upon departing, as I walked her to the car, I stole a hug and a kiss, that we both seemed to enjoy, and i recieved a positive vibe as we said our good bye's. We texted each other later the following week, "I hope to see your place sometime soon" she texted.. I decided to invite her to the beach again the the following Sunday morning, but schedules wouldn't allow... we did decide on late brunch, we would meet at my place. (the story goes... she was clamped on the couch.. i pulled her nipple clamp chain while i banged her with ma fingers, she came multiple times) CMNF for he most part during tis session.   Decided she was a slave and not a kitten or a submissive..  Reminder notes to write about...  The next Sunday we had brunch... I finger banged her on the couch and told her I wasn't going to fuck her yet... i was going to make her wait.. she wanted to get slapped in the face.. I had serious Dom drop after this as it went against my grain to soo much as lay a finger on a woman.. called her the next day to check on her mental state, cause mine wasn't great.. she was in a very good mood and happy.. the slapping got easier to deal with as we progressed in our process and play. Two Sundays later we had cropping session.. and caned her.. with her new cane.  She got covid... two or three weeks later.. she came over for an hour or two before going on break with family.. in front of the fire.. she dry humped me until orgasm.. she came when i pulled her hair while she was doing this... like instantly as I tugged on her main. She went on xmas break When she got home Jan 12th, that Sunday started with otk after she came out of bathroom in nothing but xmas gift panties... told her to pick a tool from the closet, she chose crop, dragged her into the doghouse by her hair.. we had a cropping session, left marks, she rode a dildo stuck to a saucer plate (while throating me) had a very intense convulsive orgasm while doing this... dildo was expensive and nice one, after cropping and then gave me the blow job of my life... sucked on my balls while stroking my cock, almost made me nut but i stopped her.. was going to fuck her later.. after she worshipped my feet, failed doggy, as I lost my erection in hassle for condom, or she would have gotten fucked.. i was hard all night before that, but she was kind and understanding about it.. I just felt like my cock had been hard for so long all night it was just done lol.. after cropping.. she came again before she left on the couch, during her aftercare session i rubbed her button until she came... after she had put all her clothes back on... they all came off again.. she dressed and left.   We met briefly.. at a bar.. i don't drink but she had two glasses of wine.. we flirted with each other and she said she was going to fuck me.. we went our seperate ways.. we will go to a club to see bulesque next Thursday, but she will come of to get used monday prior.. to be continued.  We met again when she came over.. i wonder if she stricly comes over to be used.. i was giving her aftercare and massaging her red welted ass... i noticed her butthole was so pink.. and pretty.. my mouth found its way there somewhat naturally.. it was a first for both of us.. she loved it and so did i. She certainly earned it.  Haven't seen the kitten going on three weeks... between her studying and spring breaking... I was taken aback when she texted me saying she wanted to come over next weekend.. i think the stress of school and all the studying has gotten to her.. she misses the distraction of the crop.. and needs some masochistic distraction. More to come..         

Coming to, you blink trying to get a grasp on your surroundings. Your vision is obstructed and when you blink, all you see is darkness. Moving your head, you feel that your head is placed on a softness that can easily be identified as a pillow. Panic alerts the hair on your arms and your heart starts to race. You try to reach for whatever fabric is covering your eyes, just for your arms to not move when instructed. Jerking again, you realize that your arms have been tied together and stretched out just enough for you to be safely propped up on them. Tugging roughly, you can hear the rope slide across the metal of a bed frame. Frantically struggling again, you try to kick your feet, also strapped down and you realize you cannot move them apart or lay down. Your ass is in the air and just as a breeze kisses the skin of your ass, you realize how quiet it is. You haven’t heard a single movement that you didn’t create.   You thank your lucky stars that has blessed you with the chance to escape.   With the knowledge of your bare asshole in the air and unprotected, your arms bound and inescapable, you test your feet again. There is a bar extender that has your feet cuffed and spread perfectly. If you extend your toes just enough, you can feel the edge of a footboard. Sweat is beading at your hairline now, but for some reason, you’re starting to grow. Cold metal wraps around your cock like your hand does every Friday and your nuts are sent to your stomach.    You can’t believe it… Chastity.    You’ve been bound, blindfolded, spread open and locked up. Adrenaline spikes your blood flow and you rack your brain with the best possible way to escape before the inevitable. Fighting against the rope and trying to free your hands, you’re panting, trying your hardest to not make noise. But how can you be quiet when trying to escape?   You feel the breath on your ear before you hear her.  

 Mistresscherrypie