Too afraid to update my profile , as it took me 18 months to get back in last time. You can find me as MaidSlaveGimp   on Fet

Honestly if you been whoring around and doing "sessions" with other doms ..giving them all your first expereinces dont bother me. There is nothing left for me to bond with you over and I have no reason to take a sub who others have used and dont want to own.  As my uncle always told me..you can play with the slut all you want...but dont bring them home to mom. Well you are of no value to me after you been used by any loser who will play with you so dont even bother. I am looking for someone I can be proud to own not someone who didnt want to make a connection with the person training or using them. I am not here to play games and if you lie to me I end it. I dont judge you for what you do its your life just dont bother me because I am not interested in whores. Nothing I say or do will mean anything to you nor will anything that is a symbol to me have any meaning to you. If you went to a class or training camp to learn to be a sub then go to someone who wants that because I know of no one who does. I am a warrior my slave is part of me and they are special ..I make no apology for the way I feel.

Alot has changed since I first created our profile. What I have noticed over the past year or so since I last checked in is that is still many of the same faces.  People I suspect want the idea, but are too afraid to go for it when it is in front of them. So, what we are looking for also has changed.  I was looking to add to a poly family.  Well that part is done as there are now three of us under one roof. What we since decided is to find someone (female) who desires a complete loss of herself not for sensual BDSM, but for complete enslavement. The person who seek would be looking to disappear from society, and be locked away, perhaps never being allowed to leave our dungeon and your new home. In this role, you will spend many hours in bondage or caged, except when one of us decides we wish to enjoy your flesh for our pleasure.  That pleasure being anything from using you for our sexual gratification, to being tortured just so we can hear you cry or beg for it to be over, to simply clean the floor on hands and knees. Is this what you desire?  Seriously, because many people think it is, but few can really accept that they are offering themselves to a sadist who finds love only in hearing cries and whimpers.  Who favors the sound of leather agaist flesh over sweet 'I love yous'.  Many profiiles will read like this I suspect, yet less actually have experience in doing just that.  So, if you really want to atone for what ever sin you have done (and I could care less what that sin is), then lets talk.  If you want to be used while reminded what a worthless piece of crap you are, then your the woman we seek.

Time to put out another...message in a bottle.  If you are going to contact me;  Be polite. Politeness costs your nothing. And it shows manners.  Be consistant. If you want to know all about me, and ask questions, then reply to my responses in a timely manner. If you don't have further interest, kitten is a big girl and you can just say so.  Be honest. I don't want to have to ask you 50 questions to finally get you to fill in the bigger picture of your wants and needs, OK? We can be flirty and fun and joke around, but we both should have an appreciation for and skill in using direct honesty. Be informed. Did you read my profile and my journals before contacting me? Fantastic! That's the best place to start!  I will, of course, be the same! I'm looking for someone wonderful and sexy just like you!  Thanks in advance!   

I cleared "house" over the weekend declining those who weren't suitable. No one made the cut. Interesting how this journal entry shows I hi a ave high standards, however a guy being an adult clearly defining what he seeks so I can decide if he suits what I seek is slow. A guy doing the usual "whatever you want.." b.s to attempt to hide he wants a fetish dispenser = that won't be me. No it doesn't mean I am not into BDSM playtime, I am. What it means as I know the person very well over a year before I bring up kink and playtime. They guy agrees to that put tries twice to push kink. Three strikes and he's blocked. Next batch of applicants it will be two strikes and they will be blocked. After that batch isn't viable I will stop replying to all messages for sometime. Get it right guys!!

A day in service.   The morning light finds me on my knees, A feather duster clutched in my hand. My only garments are these metal pieces And leather tight about my neck, so branded.   The cage is cold, a constant, weighted shame, That shrivels what pathetic manhood grew. She watches from the doorway, lips aflame, With scorn for every single thing I do.   "That spot, you missed it, worthless little worm!" Her voice is acid, sharp and cutting clean. "A child could clean with less to be concerned, But you can't even function on the scene."   She points and laughs, a sound that cuts the air, "At what they've locked away in there, so small. It's more a keychain than a thing to spare, No wonder it doesn't function at all."   I scrub the floor, my back beginning to ache, Each movement jiggles my ridiculous cage. Another failure for her to mistake For evidence of my inadequate age.   "The baseboards, look! You've left a line of dust! My useless, tiny, disappointing toy. Is there one task that isn't built on rust? One single moment you don't disappoint?"   I finish, broken, kneeling at her feet, The house is clean, but I am still a mess. She clips a leash to my collar, a treat For being best at nothing, I confess.   "Good boy," she purrs, her hand upon my head, "At least you know your place, beneath my heel. Now rest your minuscule cock in bed, And let this empty, hollow feeling feel."

This morning I saw the following on a profile from a heterosexual dom who has a wickledly fun screen name that gets my attention every time I see it. He asks,  "What can a straight male Dom do for a male slave? I am at a loss as to what I can do for male subs and slaves and why they look at my profile when I say no men?" So, I thought I would answer this. For the most simple response, speaking on behalf of all the kinky gays, someone with a great screen name like "IAMTHEBESTMASTER", or similar, makes one look no matter what they have between their legs. Second, sometimes a profile just slips through with the "couple" selection and/or even states sub males on the interest choices. Finally, speaking for me and I assume a select group of kinky gays, this is not about sex for me. I am driven by masculinity and, on my sub side, authority. Having a straight dom take control and train me like a naked employee where the need to please and be pleased is not based on sexual attraction is quite hot and will make me a better man all the way around. Also, it's just fun to look at what you can't have sometimes. So, there is my response.

 I suppose I need to update this along with my profile. As I said in my new profile, I am currently living in Virginia and owned as part of a household so I’m no longer looking. I only come here occasionally to chat with a few people I’ve come to know. A lot changed for me at the end of last year when I moved here. This is only the second ownership situation I’ve ever been in. I have a scattered history with the couple who now own me so they aren’t a complete unknown but much of what is expected of me is very new. I am their new alpha and expected to manage the general household as well as some aspects of others that are brought in, either short term or long term. Their prior long-term slave left the household last month and they have taken on a new one, at least on a trial basis. I’m not sure if she’ll last but the mistress has faith in her becoming a permanent part of the household so time will tell I guess. For those who were curious about my tech gig work, I took a couple months off and I’m starting some new work next month. It’ll be tricky balancing that with my household duties so I’m not putting much on my plate at first. On the plus side, since I don’t have any expenses here, all of what I take in can go toward investing my future. I guess that’ll be yet another new situation for me.. lol        

I have been on this site for years and see the same profile of ladies seeking a someone like myself. Contact is made, profiles viewed yet nothing. occassionally someone says hi and we exchange messages, and then nothing and i find that often times the dead air is asking for verification on where they live or interest that they have already posted in their profiles.  So many ladies want to be in charge, they advertise they are dominant seeking a male sub/slave, thye want to take the lead, yet nearly all wait for the guy to make first contact and when it happens they ghost or get upset that an I was not dotted or T not crossed. I realize the ladies may get slammed by a lot of players espcially on a freee site like this one. But if you reallyh want to be in control, ignore the players and seek out us real guys, make the first move and follow through. You seek perfectionn from the first hello but that is impossible for anyone including the ladies making contact.  We are two adults seeking to meet connect and build a relationship, if the only connection is BDSM the connection will be lost quickly. So my request is to stop searching for the ideal submssive and instead focus on building a relationship with said person and through your guideance and training help us /me to be perfct for you 

 AcadaMay She's Royal CFNM Ladies Tea Party - Saturday April 12th 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.  

Tears Wow… this is such a loaded word for me.  I have such a love hate relationship with these suckers… I am reluctant to even write on the topic.  For starters, being someone who gets migraines, a good solid set of tears, that leads to solid congestion can lead to a migraine, so over all I typically avoid tears if I can help it and I don’t need them.   My brain seems to produce these things at all the wrong times sometimes.  If am super angry… Tears.  Super happy in a nostalgic way… Tears. Super empathetic for someone… Tears. What the heck is with all these tears??? When they come during these high emotion times, I have zero control over them and their timing sucks!  If I don’t’ shut down the emotion can’t shut down the tears that come with it!  Going silent and withdrawing is often the only way to stop them.  This doesn’t help when I am furious and want to be screaming at someone. This doesn’t help when I am trying to watch a wedding.  This really doesn’t help when trying to counsel a friend who is having a hard time.  I need to engage and be there with them! The other side of the coin… and this was to my big brother’s demise growing up… I can sometimes turn on those tears with the flip of a switch.  Not the legit sobbing my heart out stuff usually, but enough to put a pause in the conversation if I am not happy with it.  I must watch my manipulative side with this.   (I have a broken door in my house because I wanted my husband and son to quit fighting one day and turned them on so well, then ran off and locked myself in the bedroom… the two of them quit fighting with each other and came to find me and broke down the bedroom door to check on me… I never expected they would break the door!) The issue is sometime this same thing happens against my will…  I may not be happy with the conversation, but I really DO want to talk it out, and not have those stupid tears affect the outcome… and the stupid things come anyhow because I am emotional!  So frustrating!  Then in my frustration I cry more!  Then get mad that I am crying, and then I cry because I am mad that I am crying, then it seems like I am crying because of the conversation… then all is lost, I can’t have the conversation untainted, and I am just straight up pissed off at myself. None of these tears are tears that bring me emotional relief though.  In fact, they often do the opposite.  They don’t affect my submission, (unless you count my bratting and manipulating with tears, in which case it might actually be bringing me out of my submission.)  There is one type of tear that brings me emotional relief and brings me further into my submission.  Tears from pain.  They are rare though.  Super rare.  I have health issues and I have (well controlled, without the use of narcotics) chronic pain, and medical professionals have put me through hell and back with some of the things they have done to me.  I get cluster headaches occasionally, some of the worst pain on the planet. (Imagine a brain freeze that lasts for 3 hours).  I simply don’t cry from pure pain.  Now, my eyes will water from it, like when your thumb is hit with a hammer, but it is just that, eyes watering, no redness, no sniffling, no sobs or bawling.  Sometimes though, I need to cry.  I need emotional release, and I need it to not be attached to anything like an argument, a friends ups and downs, an emotional event, etc.  I need my own personal release.   Where have I found this?  Complete and total submission, and I have found that in only one place… pain beyond my control.  There are lots of ways to give submission, but they are mostly all ways I still feel I control.  I can do dishes, cook meals, give physical pleasure, do penance like tasks, etc.  They are all things that I do because I am either happy to do or am willing to put up with the annoyance or interruption to my day to do.  That is really how my brain processes such things.  The emotional repentance within the brain is lacking and there certainly isn’t any call to tears over any of it. Physical punishment is different.  I don’t enjoy pain, I am not a pain slut, but there is an absolute difference to pain punishments.  There is constant thought and anticipation.  I don’t’ want to say anxiety because of the negative connotations with the word anxiety, but I don’t want anticipation to be taken as joyful excitement.  The period leading up to physical punishment.  That time between when you have done wrong, and when the punishment is administered… there is a gnawing in the back of your mind.  Driving the car, talking to your vanilla friend on the phone making lunch plans, brushing your teeth, watching TV, getting the mail.  Randomly, at any time.  It pops into your head!  You are reminded you have done wrong.  You are reminded that there will be a price to pay, and not one that will be easily dismissed.  You are reminded that with every ounce of your being, you are going to have to submit yourself to absolute unpleasantness to pay the price for your actions (or lack of actions depending on the situation).  This alone increase the emotional tie to the pain to come. When it is time for the punishment, it isn’t enough to be told to just go off on your own and do something and be done with it.  You must stand before your accuser, look them in the eye, face up to what you have done, admit your guilt, humiliation of the mind as much as the body as you bare your soul before them and present yourself to them, willing to take whatever they are going to give.  Knowing you will soon lose control over your body’s responses to the pain, jerking this way and that way, trying

Old profile saved here.   Jan 2018- Some servitude possible again around my ongoing building project commitments... not as fully able to commit as I'd like but it's a start and WILL enable proper regular service in the near future.   My Face pictures are in my Pictures Collection All the pictures are my own. All details here are NOT just fantasy, in fact more a list of real life experiences, I've been around a bit, had a taster or three of many situations, now looking to build on past experiences and be taken deeper. If any or all of these Keywords resonate with you then read on or get in touch: TPE, Sadist, Masochist, Extreme, Prisoner, Hostage, Cell, Cage, Total rubber encasement, True Slavery, Chains, Heavy Bondage, Mummification, Prolongued Bondage Predicaments, 24/7, Hardcore, Gimp, Doll, Hoods, Gags, Sensory Deprivation, Isolation, High heels, Locked on footwear/clothing, Corsets, Ballet Heels, Waist Training/Tight lacing, Fetish, Latex, Feminisation, Feminine training, Deportment, Strict dress codes, Strict control of behaviour and appearance, Forced prolonged standing/caged standing (in extreme heels), Slut, Whore, Deepthroat/face rape, No safeword, Judicial Caning, Heavy Whipping, Bruises, Welts, Treated as meat, Abandoned chained to a wall in a dark isolated concrete cell for days or weeks with only piss and stale bread provided, Anal, INSEX, All holes plugged, Permanent hole dilation/plugging, Liquid toilet, Foot torture, Forced to walk long distances in heels / unsuitable attire / extreme footwear and restrictive clothing.          Longer version......  Serious **male (see below) slave & masochist with supressed transgender feelings looking for equally serious sadist(s) of any gender or situation (i.e single, couple, poly) for either casual meets or preferably something more meaningful and long term, or even permanent if the relationship develops........   In Vanilla life, I am a self employed business person. Professional, highly skilled, educated and intelligent. Very easy to get along with, witty, talkative and without a hint of kink on show, very good all round company that you can take anywhere. My business can also go anywhere, all I need is a room to work in, and use of eyes and fingers. I can generate a good income from home and rarely need to leave the house... or my cell..   Looking for an absolute TPE D/s situation (once mutual trust established), leading to no safeword, no rights, no opt outs, no kind fluffiness, sympathy and caring, just total slavery, pain, suffering, degradation, humiliation, abuse and torture.... Limits, yes of course I have them, that would be utterly stupid, however you will find they are very few and only there to protect my long term health and not to stop extremes of S&M and slavery. No legal activity is off limits and severity can be mild to hardcore/extreme.     I'm a total realist, Vanilla times are a necessary evil, bills need to be paid and an income to be earned and so on.... However, behind closed doors, when the vanilla commitments allows we have a running 'regime' where I'm usually kept in chains and preferably in female mode but that's not essential, just an ideal, your the boss and I will present as instructed.   Put me to work for all your domestic chores, diy, general fetching and carrying, your personal pleasures and pamperings and also used for any sadistic pleasures. I beg during slave times you show me no kindness, no mercy, no comforts or pleasures, just pain, suffering and serving.       Sill awake?..........     We all have to live in the real world, with bills to pay and essentials to be done so it's nigh on impossible to genuinely keep a slave, gimp or doll locked up 24/7/365 despite the desire to do so. If the chains do come off, we both know there is the underlying knowledge that we are not equal and this temporary freedom is just that, temporary.   Even doing the mundane shopping run, my restraints and symbols of ownership may not be on public display to protect the innocent from our kink, but there is still a strict hierarchy at work. Underneath my clothing chosen by you, there may well be subtle but effective devices and equipment at play, fitted onto me, or fitted inside me to keep me subdued, controlled and obedient whilst on our trip out, but on the surface and to the casual observer it's all composed normality, despite the fact I may be hiding absolute agony within.     ** I am 'non-op' Transgender (as in, less than pre-op) transgendered. I live and work in semi male/androgynous mode. Male image and persona is all there, so no need to worry about embarrassing freakish looks in public. I look totally everyday male except I have long and well maintained hair and perhaps if you look very closely you may notice my jeans, T shirt and trainers are ladies .... I barely have any male clothes but you wouldn't really notice due to very careful unisex or androgynous selection, I haven't shopped in the men's section for years.   Inside I live a tormented existence from the birth defect of being blessed with a feminine brain, cursed with a male body.... and that doesn't have to change...... However I have a deep and ever nagging need to be female, either in looks, mannerisms, treatment or the whole hoggette.... This is not just 'dressing up' or wanting to play the sissy maid or drag queen, but a natural desire to beco

  Some people are born submissive and some born Dominant. That means there are lots of Dominant people out there, but a Mistress/Master is someone that a Dominant becomes with work, study and practice, a Dominant is born but a Mistress/Master is the result of learning, evolving and practice.

Lately I've watched videos of people showing fake food, I've even come across some of it Myself.   But, I also question My life choice coming on this site that is now so full of fake people. They have flesh and bones yes, but no soul, no honesty, half truths, and sometimes just down right lying losers and energy vampires.   I know I can't be the only one knowing this. I hear from men saying the same thing however , they are usually ( not always ) bullsh#ters themselves. Yet here I am, still looking for a honest person is a sea of 1000's. Come on people, DO BETTER !  If your just looking for a play partner, say so.  If you have family,property, work or a business and can't move, say so, better yet don't even write ,unless you will benefit Me. I'm not a needy person, I do well enough on My own. I'm not looking for a certain look, body type or financial status.  I don't give a sh#t.  Just because the world is going a bit crazy doesn't mean you have to. I only want grounded honest people around Me. That's it !  

strength is gone I am so done being strong im breaking and shattering like a broken mirror i cant stand this feeling im breaking down and i am so annoyed with myself but taking it out on everyone around me as i lay here tonight theres not much more i can take the tears are shedding and my self confidence is non existing just what i fucking need im still breathing so i guess thats an upside but fuck it all im so done pretending that im okay and if you cant accept me the way i am than whats the point of being my friend im just so over it

When it comes to phallic worship I am the altar and the sacrament. I begin by washing thoroughly and I cover my body around my phallus leaving the phallus and the testicles exposed after the person who is to worship bathes, perfumes his body and   approaches slowly with the sight on the vision I am offering him. He kneels, and anoints the phallus with honey, almond oils, sweet oil, (all edible) and prays. No touching at this moment just gazing. Slowly he extends the offerings to the testicle, the reservoir of universal power and caress them requesting permission to approach the phallus. At this moment there is no touching, kissing or tasting the phallus, just caressing and enjoying the testicles as the source of power. Eventually I allow him to caress the phallus and anoint it thoroughly but not to masturbate. This phase is a phase of discovery and joy. Since I am uncut this is the time to begin retracting the skin to reveal the glans and to taste whatever comes from it. This process will take time and no sexual play is allow, its prayer time. The session can end there and after a while it while after washing the phallus and anointing it with oils and essences the worshipper is allow to commune with the phallus orally. If the ministrations are right and he deserves, I will allow the climax for both of us. If not he must come back until he is worthy of the nectar that creates the universe. Now I have my own rituals to initiate those who worship before allowing them to approach the altar and the sacrament.

First Journal Entry I am back on here after a long hiatus on this platform, fingers crossed, it works out better than the first time.  I am here looking to make friends, and who knows what after that. One thing I have found so far is that not much has changed, those jumping into my inbox still manifest many of the prior encountered issues: trying to insta me, using titles before they have been earned, fantasy pushing, and having the sort of energy and vibe of trying to use me as a kink vending machine. I am a person first, before being a dominant, so please don't do this.  A new one on me is seeing not being willing to jump to chat apps as a red flag, as a reason to think someone isn't genuine. To be very clear, I won't jump off this platform onto a chat app after a few brief message exchanges. Trust has to be built up, a connection of sorts created first. I am not interested in one of hook-ups, but want to build something more meaningful, and that will happen on here first. In my book trying to pull me off here, after a few minimal messages, definitely is one, and strongly suggests a scammer at work, not a genuine person.  Please don't try and do that. 

pet store (3/3) you smile again and wipe your wet fingers on my face. "first, take off your shirt and clean that mess you made." i hesitate for a moment but pull my shirt over my head and start to lean down. "on your knees, and i want that ass up. in fact," you pause dramatically, but i know that tone of voice and shiver. "put the shirt in your mouth, hands behind your back, and clean." i don't hesitate this time, and i put the shirt in my mouth. i'm still holding my new collar in one hand, and reach my arms behind my back so i can grip it with both hands when i spread my legs and lean forward. half my focus is on cleaning my juices off the floor, and the rest is on making sure i'm displaying myself well enough for you. my clit is throbbing from the exposure, and all i can think about is how badly i need to please you. when i finish cleaning to your satisfaction, you order me to stand, but you keep the shirt in my mouth and my hands behind my back. "now," you tell me, "you can either put your filthy shirt back on or i can use it to tie your arms behind your back and put those tits on display. you can choose." i think for a moment then hand you my shirt and the collar, before turning and presenting my arms to be tied. you pull my arms back, thrusting my breasts out further, and tie them tightly. you trace your fingers lightly up my arms and over my breasts, making me shiver as my nipples harden. you pull me back against you and kiss my throat, but your hands continue down my body and slip back under my skirt. one hand holds me still and the other goes right for my clit. you hold me against you, still pressing soft kisses to my throat as i come undone in your hands. you stop before you can push me over the edge but keep holding me still while i suck your wet fingers clean. when my breathing starts to calm, you push me forward. "let's go, babe." as we approach the register, the man working here looks me up and down and smiles. i stumble, having forgotten that we weren't alone, but you keep pushing me forward. we're not heading straight toward him though- with your hand twisted in my hair you steer me toward a display case full of different types of dog tags. we stop in front of it and my eyes meet your reflection's in the back of the case. i don't need to see myself to know that my cheeks are flushed and my lip is swollen from biting it, but i look anyway. i barely recognize the slut i see looking back at me. you bring out the collar we chose and now i can't take my eyes off your hands. i watch them open the collar and fit it around my throat, and when they close the collar i sigh, letting out a breath i hadn't even realized i was holding. i'm staring at myself, transfixed, barely breathing, for a minute before my eyes meet yours again in the mirror. "thank you, sir." you hold my gaze as you pinch my nipples and smirk at me. "we're not done yet, my slut." you keep playing with my nipples with one hand while the other drifts down and under my skirt again. "pick a tag," you tell me, and begin to finger me. you're much rougher this time, bringing me to edge and barely letting me catch my breath before starting again. without my arms free to brace myself, i'm shaking just from trying to stay upright. the only thing keeping my knees locked in place is the knowledge that if i fall to the floor, you'll leave me there to writhe and beg. i shake my head to try to clear some of the cobwebs and pick a dog tag, but before i can speak you stop playing with my breasts and slip your fingers in my mouth. i can see you laughing at me when i can't hold back the whine, but i quickly forget about the dog tag anyway. you do this a few more times, until my whines are turning to screams. the next time you remove your fingers from my mouth to start the cycle again, i immediately shout, "the heart! the heart tag, please, please, the heart!" you wipe both hands clean on my breasts, giving my nipples an extra tug when you do it. i don't remember it happening, but at some point in this you pulled them out of my bra so now they're fully on display. when you're done, you reach out to grab the tag, then push me toward the cashier. i look down, not wanting to see what this man thinks of me right now, but you push me right up to the counter. "tell him what to engrave on the tag, baby." i whimper but don't speak, and your hand comes down hard on my ass. "daddy's little slut," i say in a very small voice. another slap. i say it again louder. another slap. louder, and with a please. another. another. another. you stop after i shout, "please, please engrave my dog tag to say daddy's little slut!" you rub your hand over my sore ass then push me forward, until i'm bent over the counter with my legs spread. "miss?" the clerk asks, causing me to instinctively look up at him. he grins. "can you spell that for me?" each letter comes with another hard slap on my ass. after "daddy's" and "little" you finger me again roughly, bringing me to the edge. after the second edge, i brace myself for another slap, but it doesn't come. instead you grab me and turn me so i'm on my back and spread my legs wide. "you can cum when you're finished, is that clear slut?" i gulp. "yes sir." your hand comes down hard on my oversensitive pussy. S. L. U. on the T, your slap lands directly on my clit and i scream as the orgasm overtakes me.

Survey Says?   What is your favorite thing to spank with and why? What is the most common thing you spank with and why? What is the most unique thing you have spanked with and where did it come from and how did you end up using it to spank with? What is the most common infraction you spank for? How frequently do you find your sub requires the correction?  (Spankings or otherwise.)   Send your answers and I will do another journal entry with the answers.

This is my kind of Dominance     The Equalitarian Dom: Is one who controls by teaching, mentoring, and leading. This Dominant knows that when he finds a comparable submissive that things will happen as a natural progression of the interaction. Usually just a short learning phase is required to receive the correct response from the submissive. Both the Dom and the sub “get it”, there is very little need for so called “training” and they naturally know what the other needs and is looking for.       The Dominant does not like the situation of constantly repeating and forcing a particular behavior (submission) to occur. Besides the activities (sexual and others) it is the surrender as a result of the Domination that is the ive and enjoyment. Creativity is an important part of this situation. They tend to intellectualize and be more into the philosophical and psychological mechanisms of this life style. They understand the concepts and resultant interactions and can put it into real life. They do not need many rules like the Democratic type, nor do they like the heavy S&M activities of the Authoritarian, preferring submission to occur as a result of an instilled desire in the submissive to surrender. She “wants” to submit as a result of the Dominant’s knowledge and skill in dominating her.     Sensuousness is the rule. Pain is given and received as a form of sensuous stimulation. Light pain as opposed to severe. Sensuous torture is a popular activity in this area. Both the Dominant and the submissive must naturally be this way. These are the people who will claim to be “born that way”. They fully understand the concept of D/s, it comes to them naturally and easily. They attract a submissive that truly and naturally desires to please and who will observe and sense what it is that the Dominant is communicating;

I want flowers. I want to whip you. I want to stroke your cheek and smile into your eyes. I want respect and awe and understanding and love. I want foot rubs and leg rubs and back rubs and anywhere rubs. I want you to know when to reach out to touch and when to kneel and wait. I want you to want me fiercely, desire me utterly. I want kisses. Little ones, fast ones, fierce ones, thigh-clenching-good kisses. I want you to touch me like you’re trying to memorize the texture and shape of me. I want affection and cuddling. I want you to drop your eyes when I demand and meet my eyes when we talk. I want you to miss me terribly when we’re apart. I want you to know what you mean to me, how I cherish you. I want humor and debate and dialog. I want you to kiss the side of my neck while your hands grip my hips, my back. I want to see you crawl – just for me. I want to look at you in that special way and see you breathe deeply with desire and anticipation of what you know is to come. I want to fuck you, penetrate you, tease you, deny you, please you, torture you. I want You.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               

  The most potent sex organ is the mind.  Control the mind and the body will follow.  Making the ordinary and mundane the most extraordinary   

The meal The table was laid.  It was an important dinner party, but the table wasn’t overly fussy.  It was going to be a simple meal: the steak already in place on warm plates at either end of the six-seater table, wine in the goblets and terrines of buttered vegetables in the middle.  One plate was set between the other two chairs.  Chairs which stood, side by side, along one of the longer sides of the oblong table.  Next to the plate were two glasses of water, a plate of small cubes of fresh bread and crudites and a dish of oily, dark balsamic dressing.  The lighting came mainly from the open door to the kitchen and the two tall candles on the table. Two women stood, close but not touching, each behind one of the chairs.  They were dressed the same: black heels, black stockings, black suspender belt, but they looked different.  One was significantly taller than the other, and much curvier.  The curvier sub had dark blonde hair which fell in a straight curtain down her back, the other had shiny brown hair which fell in soft curls just past her shoulders.  The brown-haired sub had pubic hair, neatly trimmed very short.  The blonde-haired sub was completely bare.  Both wore a narrow black leather collar around their necks with a metal ring centre front.  And both wore leather cuffs with a similar metal ring around their wrists. Two men entered the room and both women stiffened.  Each one cling their elbows tighter behind their back pulling their shoulders back and pushing their breasts out; nipples already erect from anticipation and from being exposed.  The older man walked towards the blonde haired sub and turned her collar so that the ring was at the back.  He threaded a chain through the ring and attached it to her cuffs; holding her wrists in place behind her waist.  Each man pulled out a chair and motioned for the women to sit. Suctioned to the bare wood of each chair seat was a dildo, glistening with a thin coating of lube.  It wasn’t very long, maybe only 4” but it was a little thicker than a standard dildo.  Both subs placed themselves over the dildos and slowly eased themselves into their chairs.  The blonde sub could feel it slowly stretching and invading her cunt and she felt heat spread up her belly.  She turned to the older man and gave a barely noticeable smile.  The older Dom said “You are not to speak unless spoken to.”  “Yes sir,” replied his sub recognising the smile in his eyes behind his stern words. When both women were seated the two men took a moment to check the state of their sub.  The older Dom placed his hands on his sub’s shoulders.  He gently ran his fingernail down her back.  He heard the intake of breath, saw her breasts rise and felt her rock slightly forward – dildo inside her and clit bumping onto the hard surface of the wooden chair.  He let his hands glide down the swell of her breasts, pinching each nipple between his fingers and using them to lift her heavy breasts; feeling their weight and seeing his sub rock forwards on the seat again.  He gave each nipple a playful, sharp flick and the second Dom said to his sub, “Feed her first.”  Both men sat down and began eating as the brown-haired sub, with her hands still free, turned to the blonde-haired sub and smiled. The meal continued.  The men and women talked normally to each other.  The shorter sub fed the blonde sub bread and vegetables, dipped into the balsamic dressing.  Whenever a small drop fell onto the lip, chin or breast of the blonde sub, she kissed or licked it off.  After a while the blonde sub began to squirm noticeably in her seat. When the next drop fell onto the top of her breast the brown-haired sub leaned forward and grazed her tongue over her nipple before catching the drip.  The blonde sub squirmed again and moaned aloud, the dildo deep in her cunt, her clit swollen from constant bumping and squirming on the seat.  “I told you not to speak sub.  Are you such a slut that you can’t eat a meal at the table without moaning?”  the older Dom spoke sharply but quietly.  “Over the table now.” The blonde sub eased herself off the dildo, ging again as it left her cunt.  She walked, wrists still bound, to the empty edge of the table, opposite the other sub, and leaned her body over it, feet shoulder width apart.  Her Dom could see her slightly gaping, wet cunt.  Without warning he stuck two fingers into it and everyone at the table heard how wet it was.  Removing his fingers, he rubbed her juices over her swollen clit and gave a quiet chuckle at the low moans his sub made.  “I think she needs more tonight,” he said to the younger Dom.  From out of his pocket he took a metal butt plug with a flared base.  The blonde sub could see that it was her medium sized one; the one she had been wearing recently for periods of time outside the house.  Her Dom applied a little lube and then she felt it pushing gently but insistently against her arsehole.  As she felt her arse open and suck the metal bulb in, her Dom grabbed her hair, turned her face towards the other Dom and delivered six sharp smacks to her arse.  She felt the heavy metal plug jolt inside her and she closed her eyes and moaned with arousal and embarrassment.  After the sixth smack he pulled her upright by her hair and delivered another six slaps to her breasts, three on each.  She felt them bounce and her hard nipples screamed in pain, making her g and cry out.  “Sit back down and finish your meal,” her Dom said. On wobbly legs, she returned to her seat.  As she lowered herself back onto the dildo she felt an exquisite fullness as the dildo rubbed past the plug in her arse.  The brown-haired sub had been eating but, at a motion from her Dom, she began to lick and suck the blonde-haired sub’s sore, engorged nipples.  The sensation was arousing and soothing but, desperate to make no sound, the blonde-haired sub closed her eyes and tilted her head back.  Focused on allowing the soothing attention.  She didn’t notice that she was already rocking her clit against the wooden chair seat again, but the two men did… Mar 28, 2020

16 years I've been on this site, almost to the day.  Probably longer than that because I'm not sure this was my first profile.  And before that, I was on other similar sites all the way back to the beginning of the internet, and the old bulletin boards.  And before the internet, yes, I am that old, the bdsm magazines and underground classifieds.  I search, sometimes for years because I have very high standards and there are a lot of haystacks and very few needles in the bdsm world, until I find someone, then I go away.  Unfortunately none of those relationships have been forever, though they were each wonderful in their own way, and I guess I am blessed that each ended on good terms.  My last relationship ended 3 years ago.  I am here, on FL, a few other web sites, and on a bunch of the dating apps.  I have a lot to offer, both bdsm and vanilla.  No, I'm not a sugar daddy.  I'm happy to share.  Supporting a lazy deadbeat isn't in the cards.  If you don't have enough pride to contribute to your own lifestyle, you don't have enough pride to be with me.  I'm seeking a woman who is highly intelligent, who possesses and values integrity, is trustworthy and able to trust when her trust has been earned.  And of course, who desires a long term, real life, 24 7 relationship built around a core of bdsm.  Also should be at least a bit of a geek to insure we have vanilla interests in common. Everything else is negotiable.  You have my permission to contact me first if you think we might be compatible. Please be willing to video chat immediately for both of our safety.

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

I appreciate all showing an interest though I am not looking for any cross dressing or feminization.. I am only looking for a quality male slave that is local living alone or a male slave who can relocate at own expense and ability to get own place close by. Either living alone or another slave can be arranged to be a roommate brother slave sharing financial responsibility in maintaining the dwelling, sharing duties with chores and sharing in serving My needs.  Besides sexual service using your holes is a given. Being trained to take torment and torture, giving Me massages, worshipping My body including rimming and My feet.  When I have gigs, I will expect you to be a grunt, gopher and whatever else I need with the booth or encampment.  Expect to be locked in chastity for periods of time and plug training to open up for fisting.  Though not living under the same roof, I will have full control around the clock, taking deeper into being a completely devoted slave  with little to no limits with full TPE.  Some experience preferred though not required if fully willing to be trained however I want.  A visit within a few months from starting to chat at your expense to get a motel room and present for an inspection.     

  My story  Where to start ? I like many Tgs, I started at a very young age , i was treated different , family members dressed me in effeminate clothes,  and taught me domestic skills , sewing cooking,  cleaning , serving food and beverage to others. Already trained as a feminine physical submisive by the time I was 6 . I had my first encounter with 2 sisters that lived across the street.  We were playing in their back yard , and they had me get  in a big cardboard box.. Where I grew up backyards were very large and acre or 2 so a backyard seemed immense, and you could be isolated yet still be in the yard . Amy way  they started telling me a story about giant would challange their pray , before they devoured it. As they told the story , they had me strip , to show the spiders I would follow the orders , soon I was in a box naked with the girls holding my clothes . My last test to prove to the spider I should not be devoured would be to stay in the box until they returned . I stayed in the box the rest of the day until it got dark . Then the oldest sister came out and dropped my clothes in the box and told me I could go and one day would make someone very happy. I got dressed and hurried home as fast as I could , but i had missed dinner and it was dark , two rules icouldn't break.  I walked into the house to the waiting belt of my father and the screams and swats of my mother for being late . Though the pain was intense I was used to it , to me this is how parents showed theoir love.  And unknown to me at the time  was about to come next in the new house . Sometimes  I still wonder what happened to the sisters  they moved a few weeks later , and my family  moved a  months later.  

  Tips on Courting a Domme   Over the years I've had my fair share of good luck when it comes to successfully courting Dommes and I've given out quite a bit of advice to subs looking to court Dommes. I consider myself to be average to below average when it comes to my looks and physical attractiveness, job quality, etc. so I must have done something right in making a good impression. Now that I have a blog I figured I would post my advice in full. I covered several of these a little over a week ago but I figure they could easily have their own post. 1. Be courteous, respectful, and have good manners. This should probably go without saying but one of the biggest turn-offs many Dommes have are subs who fail to meet these basic requirements. This is the most important thing in making a good first impression. If you are contacting them through an adult dating site, make sure you read her entire profile first and adhere to any requirements she might have. Write out a well-thought message (complete with spell check) that indicates what you find interesting about her (aside from her looks and your fantasy) and what you have to offer. Do not send a picture of your penis unless she specifically requests it. It doesn't take a lot of effort to be a perfect gentleman.  Most Dommes on adult dating sites receive 20-300 messages per day from potential subs, 90% of which are disrespectful, thoughtless, or downright crude. If you are approaching a Domme in public (at a munch, play party etc.) you have to be twice as well-behaved since there is only a limited chance that she is actually looking for a sub. If she says no, be courteous and get out of her face. If you don't, you can basically assume you will be blacklisted within that community.  2. Be a real person. No one is "just a sub" all the time. No Domme is "just a Domme" all the time. Even if both of you are seeking a 24-7 lifestyle relationship, you have to come off as more than just a live in servant(unless that is specifically what she is looking for). Have interests. Have feelings. Have dreams. Have goals. Have a personality. Have a sense of humor. Just like in vanilla relationships, all of these things will be important if you want to be an appealing life partner.  If you are as interesting as a box of hair, expect to be discarded as easily as a box of hair. She won't want to be burdened by having to keep you occupied and entertained all day every day. That is higher maintenance than being needy.  What are your favorite movies? Books? Music? Hobbies? Sports? If you can pique her interest as a person, you are much more likely to succeed in winning her over. If you are smart, funny, and caring it will go a long ways.  3. Have a philosophy and a good gr of yourself. It's easy to think about the sub you want to be. Hell, most subs have probably fantasized about Femdom situations for years before they act upon them. If you haven't thought about it, think about it. If you have thought about it, refine it a little more. Step One: Define your idealized form of submission. If she is the right match for you, your ideal and her ideal will likely coincide. This is not about what kind of play you enjoy or what kind of kinky fantasies you wish to have. Dommes an advantage since they can have rather meticulous expectations for a sub. Think about what types of characteristics and responsibilities those entail. Should a sub perform all of the household chores and domestic duties? Should a sub have any expectations of rewards or pleasures? Should a sub expect to be treated as a lover?  There is no right or wrong (although some of them should be obvious), but more a matter of preference. If your view of being a sub involves few responsibilities, you will probably be looking for a less strict Domme or a switch. If your view of being a sub involves extensive micro-management, that will be targeted towards a particular type of Domme. Some Dommes want a sub that is their lover, others may want a strict code of Mistress/servant formality. D/s relationships that work out generally will have idealized ideas of subm

So why am i still here? Honestly i didn't think i would be. I've met people here, but life is complicated by the fact that i live with my mother (it's London, give us a break!). But i went to uni - miles away (clear across the country) and i thought that, i had a room of my own, a double bed, no one to explain things to, i could finally spend some real time getting to know a dom. And for some reason no one wanted to get to know me. A dom i'd known for literally years and who lived in the place i went to uni at, disappeared for five months and came back with a girlfriend, he wouldn't even meet for coffee as friends (and as a mature student boy did i need friends), another guy who said he'd love to have a holiday there, just didn't make it, one guy who agreed to come and see me started demanding that i go to see him instead, another guy ghosted me a few weeks before we were due to meet...yada, yada, yada. Now i don't believe i rushed any of these guys,  i was there for three years after all, so i guess they never had any intention of meeting in the first place.   So that's why i'm still here. But i can't say i'm still looking

after i wrote my 4 page note on reddit on why for me a lady who has both the dark goddess and the slave and the little girl in one in my observation over the decades and my personal life why while some might last at most a few years here and there i have never seen a successful long term healthy and honest pairing of the daddy dom and little girl..and what the crux is and why even the most highly intelligent and successful people just seem to not crack the code for longevity...and why while most people who are in the scene aren't vanilla aren't regular..and anyone attracted to this is what i code as a thoroghbred horse..what is a bred racing horse? stronger fitter quicker cleaner shinier and a work of art compared to the domestic or regular horse......it still don't work..and the orienting going on that something is missing..it's the wild horse..the wild WOLF that is the next stage of ascension...and that the traditional layout of this isn't working because the traiditonal layout of this is broken...too much power for any decent human to try to wield without misuse, and too much of an internal death and sacrifice without the safety of being held, secure, stable, protected, and hands on intetionally in and out kept....at one point one or both break....and that in the wild the individual the honed in two streams on the same path with no false pretenses absolute soverignty meeting soverngyt coming together and going apart fierce and passionate when together and like soliders on the battlefield navigating life with self first is the next evolution of this..and that the power exchange really is some sort of toxic addictive drug that kills both parties..... i asked this question. n a response to the call i put out to the universe while out and about god/the universe sent me this song while i was out and about and unable to really choose what i listen to. i'm an audio visual media mystic...music primarly. i get my messages, healing, transmissions, downloads, awareness, lessons, main way of orienting this life through sound. secondly through media...and so things will naturally guide me when i'm home and able to control it..but i have a mystical connection to music when out of the home in places where music plays that i can't control what station or song is played next as well. and the song that came up while i was out and about mystically ansewered it for me.   hang on collective, we're in for an amazing but probably bump and deadening past. but there are gems in the mental and emotional death if we choose to hang on.   as usual, they give me new/tweaked songs lyrics.  i will often hear things that the original composers didn't put that fit the situation i'm thinking of, going through, asking about. i i never heard this song before. the original foundation of the chorus in the song is to ask it as a question...but in response to my spell and the question i posed to the universe that the lyrics and song responded to... i guess god is like, gurl there is no question:   mmm mmm mmm in agreement.   "families really bow their heads to pray   daddies really never go away.   oh grandpaaaaaaaaaa. tell me bout the good ol days."   Grandpa (Tell Me 'Bout The Good Old Days) Song by The Judds Overview Videos Lyrics Artists Other recordings Listen Composers Lyrics Grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Sometimes it feels like this world's gone crazy Grandpa, take me back to yesterday When the line between right and wrong Didn't seem so hazy Did lovers really fall in love to stay And stand beside each other, come what may? Was a promise really something people kept Not just something they would say Did families really bow their heads to pray? Did daddies really never go away? Whoa, whoa, grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Grandpa, everything is changing fast We call it progress, but I just don't know And grandpa, let's wander back into the past Then paint me the picture of long ago Did lovers really fall in love to stay And stand beside each other, come what may? Was a promise really something people kept Not just something they would say and then forget Did families really bow their heads to pray? Did daddies really never go away? Whoa, whoa, grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Whoa, whoa, grandpa, tell me 'bout the good old days Mm Mm Did families really bow their heads to pray? Did daddies really never go away?   which i mean god can be grandpa in this instance if it, i believe in the tetragrammaton gender neutral energy version, and if that's what it wants to be in this transmission/spell well so be it!

An evening, recalled by the lady, written by me.It was late afternoon and it had been a tough day at the Commission. His kiss when he met me at the station was warm and affectionate; we chatted on the way to the hotel and as we checked in. When we arrived in the room I dumped my stuff on the bed and went out onto the veranda to look out over the lake. A few minutes later I heard him say ‘come here please’. I turned to see him with an impassive look on his face and standing in the middle of the room pointing at the floor just in front of his feet. He took hold of me around my waist and as he kissed me deeply, his hands travelled from my waist down my hips and across my bottom. Then up my back to my neck and then he felt my hair. He murmured ‘give me your tongue’ and I slipped it between his teeth. He nipped it and held it between his upper teeth and tongue. It was uncomfortable but not painful, he had done it often before and I had grown to like it. His hands resumed their journey around my upper body. They were firm, confident and moved without any hesitation. I could not have ed even if I had wanted too and the welcome feeling of melting inside began. He then released my tongue, kissed my lips then he turned me around and bent me over so my elbows were on the bed. He lifted my skirt and folded it over my back. His hands then roved freely over my bottom and between my thighs. He felt my mons, traced the line of my slit and ran his fingertips between down the crease between my buttocks, pausing to press on my anus. He then held me firmly against his thigh and began to spank me- this had recently become a regular beginning to our time together. One spank per cheek, then two, then three, they landed on my upper thighs and the curve of my bottom. He stopped at six and spent a few minutes gently rubbing my bottom, occasionally slipping his hand between my thighs. At ten per cheek it was stinging a lot. By twelve I was having difficulty keeping still. It was the knowledge that if I moved he would start again that kept me in position. The spanking was not unexpected and it had the desired effect. I felt myself starting to melt inside even more as he rubbed my stinging bottom and thighs once again. He stopped and made me stand. Then looked me in the eye, and then said ‘I have a few issues to resolve with you’. My stomach took a lurch, I’d been here before, he had shown no sign of real annoyance with me recently but then he never really did. He took me by the chin, looked into my eyes and said ‘strip and kneel’. He then turned and went to the veranda. It only took a minute to remove all my clothes and jewellery. I knelt, apprehensive about his return, embarrassed it had been a warm day; I had been wearing tights and had not had the time to wash and prepare myself for him. My make up had gone and I knew I did not look my best. He returned and pushed me forward to my knees and elbows. Pulling back my hair he locked my leather collar around my neck. It felt strange after the long break since I last wore it. The wrist cuffs were fitted next before he clipped them behind my back pinioning my wrists. He pulled my collar by its short leash to make me kneel up and then buckled a gag around my neck and pushed the red ball behind my teeth before tightening   it. He turned me so my back was to the mirror and placed a low backed chair in front of me. He could now see both the back and front of me. Sitting on the chair he told me to part my thighs wide and to emphasise the point his foot nudged my knees wide apart. I hoped he wasn’t going to touch me between my thighs as he so loved too, I so regretted not taking a shower immediately we arrived in the room. From his pocket he took some butterfly style nipple clips. I hate them and he knows it, he threaded their chain into the ring at the front of my collar and after pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger to make them fully erect he clipped one to each nipple. The discomfort was almost unbearable, I instinctively closed my thighs, and he ed and gently tugged the chain, sending sharp jolts through me. I did as I was told and spread my thighs wide, pushing my mons forward as far as I could. The gag muffling my weak protests. He spoke slowly, jerking the chain on saying each word. ‘Three weeks ago you forgot your make up, two weeks ago your stockings, last week your high shoes. You have arrived in my company wearing tights for the last 4 weeks, hence the immediate spankings. You have not kissed or greeted me properly on meeting for the same length of time. You make up today is poor, your hair isn’t brushed and you have not left your pubic hair as I instructed. In short young lady you are marring your beauty. You are fully aware how beautiful I think you are and you are distracting from it by being sloppy and that disappoints me. I will not accept you detracting from the pleasure I take in having such a desirable woman as my lover. Do you understand?’ I nodded, my eyes starting to water from the discomfort in my nipples and the realisation of how I had disappointed him. There was also the knowledge that I had been here before and if it followed a similar pattern then this was the case against me. By nodding I admitted my guilt. So I was about to punished for being a sloppy and inattentive submissive who had disappointed her Dominant.  He helped me to my feet by lifting me by the collar on my ring; it also had the effect of tugging on my nipples. He reversed his chair and tugged the chain as he removed each nipple clip. It stung as the blood filled each nipple, my knees almost buckled each time, the gag muffling the g. He then connected my wrists cuffs in front of me, and bent me over the back of his chair so my weight rested on my elbows. ‘Part your legs’ he said, I complied and hoped he would decide to have me, not cane me. I was to be disappointed, though recently spanked I accepted I had earned this too. He fetched a cane from his bag as I waited anxiously. Holding the back of my collar he rested the cane against my bottom, drew it back and struck me. ‘One‘ he said. All I did was hear the sound then the harsh sting reached my brain! He was using the flat cane.  A piece of flexible wood two feet long, an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick. It didn’t leave tram lines or scars; I knew its stinging would last for ages and leave a square red mark on each buttock, but it would not bruise very much. Not that it seemed important at that moment. Though I find the cane painful, the thonged whip he occasionally uses is worse. Its thick strands inflict weal’s and their tips can get into the most intimate parts of my body. I’ve also known him use it on my breasts and belly. Each cane stroke went slightly lower until the last 3 all struck where the tops of my thighs and my bottom met. My legs kicked out from the stinging, by now I had dribbled spittle around the gag, my eyes were streaming and my nose had started to run. He let go the back of my collar and returned the cane to his bag. Returning he pulled me upright by my collar and turned me to face him. I refused to look him in the eye; I must have looked a real mess. He took my chin again forcing me to look into his eyes. I felt so ashamed of my appearance. He had told me I was beautiful so very often and it made me feel so proud when he said it. Now I had let him down by being too complacent. He unclipped the wrist cuffs, reattaching then in front. He said ‘Do you understand what I have told you?’ I nodded. ‘Then get down on your belly on the floor and spread your legs, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ My mind raced, would it be the whip now, on my bottom? I knelt and lay on the floor, my bottom was really stinging and the carpet was rough against my sore nipples, my belly and mons. I spread my thighs wide, dipped my spine and waited. I heard the pop of a tube of lubricant being opened. It wasn’t the whip!! The lube felt cold against my anus as he applied just enough. He undressed, I could feel him looking at my prone body, the line of my sex and the rose of my anus. I was fully exposed because it was how he wanted me to be. He knelt between my thighs and pumped his cock to make the head larger. He spread my bottom cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock against my anus with the other. The tip entered me, it was so uncomfortable. I had forgotten how tight a caning made the cheeks of my bottom clench. He pushed into me, stretching me. I struggled and tried to object; he held me and reminded me of the presence of the whip. Once he was past the muscular ring I relaxed as the discomfort subsided somewhat; I felt the cool of his skin against my hot bottom. He reached and took hold of my hair and collar, pulling them back. At the first slow thrust he said ‘one’. The thrusts were slow and firm, they made my bottom sting though my anus soon adapted to the presence of his cock. He told me to squeeze my buttocks together as he withdrew his cock, and relax as he thrust in. I tried to do so; each time I failed he added two extra thrusts. He was punishing me and reminding me of his dominance by not taking pleasure from the stimulation my anus could give him. It was a reminder that sexual pleasure could not be an excuse for a lack of submission. It was a relief when he reached 100 and stopped counting and thrusting. I was glad he was no longer forcing my nipples against the rough carpet, and his tummy was no longer making my sore bottom sting more. But I immediately missed the closeness and intimacy of the man I so wanted yet had disappointed. He pulled me to my feet by my collar, removed the ball gag and lifted my chin. I must have looked a real mess as I worked my jaw to stop it aching, I certainly felt a mess and I promised him and myself not to let my appearance or behaviour slip again. He kissed me and said he loved me; I’m not sure if it made me feel any better- or if it was supposed to! He led me by the arm into the bathroom and told me to wash his cock and balls. I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous! Mascara running, the marks of the gag around my mouth, spittle around my chin and collar and my nose running! I looked away ashamed as he wet a towel to clean the lube from between my buttocks. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror and rubbed the wet towel firmly between my buttocks, it stung where it touched the red marks.  I heard him say, ‘You have 30 minutes until dinner. Be ready on time.’ I knew that I would make him the proudest man alive when he let me take his arm to dinner. 30 minutes wasn’t long. But I so wanted to see that look of desire in his eyes that I would ensure I was just as he wanted me to be. I knew just how good he would make me feel in return. He went to the veranda to watch the sun set. I set to work, though I did sneak a look at the red marks on my bottom. They made me feel strangely proud because they were his marks and I had submitted to him. He had put them there and there was nothing I could have done about it even if I wanted to. Now I didn’t know what he was going to do with me later, but after being disciplined he always had something special planned for me! 

Message to a new submissive/slave   So you love service. And you have discovered the great world of BDSM. Allow me to tell you a few things. I'm going to tell you what I tell every new person whether they are Christian or not. You have to find what works for you. If you are happy being a submissive then learn to be the best sub possible.    First find a Mentor. A good mentor is not a sexual partner. Mentorship is a personal developmental relationship in which a more experienced or more knowledgeable person helps to guide a less experienced or less knowledgeable person. However, true mentoring is more than just answering occasional questions or providing ad hoc help. It is about an ongoing relationship of learning, dialog, and challenge.* – Wikipedia I suggest a good mentor would be another submissive or slave. Not that Dominants/Masters can’t mentor a sub/slave, I do it all the time. But I just think someone who has been what you are going through would understand. I understand because I was trained from the bottom up. That means I started as a sub before earning my title of Master. Join groups. Fellowship with other submissives is a good thing. You do not want to isolate yourself. Hanging and talking will help you understand what you are and that there are others like you.   Ask questions. Questioning is a good thing and a good way to stay safe. A Dominant/Master should be willing to answer question. Ask other subs/slaves questions too   Also, just because someone claims to be a Master does not give them the right to start dominating you.  If a Master that you have not negotiated with, tells you that you are a sub or slave, therefore; you have to follow their orders, then it is a good idea to cut off communication with them.     Don’t settle for the first Master that comes along.  Think of this as a romantic relationship.  Do you marry the first man or woman that smiles at you?  Get to know more than one.  Until you are ready to make a commitment to a Dominant/Master/Mistress, you have the right to talk to several.   Also remember that your feelings matter.  In play a Dom/Master/Mistress might say that they do not, but this should only be in play.  In r/l your thoughts, emotions, desires, and even your health matter.   Ok let’s talk about power and power exchange. And remember the submissive/slave has all the power. Not the Dominant/Master/Mistress, we have no power except what you give us. The power exchange can be a beautiful thing when done right.     The foundation and corner stone of this lifestyle is consent. You have a right to consent. If someone does something to you that you do not consent to. Run away, don't walk.. run. Part of consent is setting limits. You have a right to set limits. Submissive will do this within the relationship. A slave should set her limits in negotiation. Yes slave you have that right. You should always negotiate with a Master. If a Master says you do not have that right, run away.  Remember these: SCC & RACK. The first SCC stands for safe, sane, and consensual. A Dominant/ Master/Mistress should keep you safe and play safe. The use of drugs or alcohol during play is not safe because they alter perception and dangerous mistakes can be made.    Although what we do looks insane to the outside world, it can be very sane, and the bottom line is consent. Every thing we do is with consent. You never lose the right to consent. Slaves, let me be very clear. You always have the right to walk away. If a Master tells you different, he is not a Master but an abuser.    Next is what I believe and that is RACK. The R stands for risk. There is risk in what we do. No matter whether it is BDSM, M/s, or D/s, there is risk. Which brings us to the A. the A stands for aware. A Dominant/Master should make you aware of the risk you are taking. C=consent or Consensual, again I can not stress this enough. It is the foundation and cornerstone of all we are. Last, the K is for kink. Yes we are a very kinky people and remember your kink may not be someone else’s kink. But that is OK.      Communication is essential.  Keep in mind, a potential Dom/Master/Mistress cannot read your mind.  If there is something that scares you or that you are uncomfortable with, tell them!  If they are unwilling to listen and talk to you about it, run away!  Keep in mind that when a person is a Dom/Master/Mistress they are also human.  They will make mistakes.      Respect should be earned I am not talking about common courtesy. Being polite always makes you look good. But respect is earned. And a Dominant/Master should never demand it. If a Dominant demands this you should run. We command respect by our actions. And a Dominant should be willing to earn that respect. One last thought on respect, you should respect yourself. Self respect is important. If you can’t respect your self how can you respect someone else?   Trust is also earned. If someone is not willing to earn your trust, or if they demand your trust, walk away. You need to trust to have a good relationship. But trust needs to be earned. A dominant/Master should be willing to earn your trust   This is a great way of life or it can be. But it can be dangerous. It is used by abusers to abuse. It is used by pretenders and predators also. We wrote this to help keep you safe.  .  

2/13/23 Hey everyone just wanted to make an update to my profile with this Journal.... My profile pics are from 2017 but I am always willing to send newer ones. Some new developments in my life are: I am no longer owned cause My old daddy moved away, I found out I also like being a sissy baby but if your not into thats okay Its not something I have to do. I also am willing to relocate! So if you are looking for a prissy sissy slut like me msg me. Thanks for reading this, Love Sissy Amber

Adding a journal entry because updating my profile takes forever. I might add or update these as I go. Also, I hate the formatting here.  I get a lot of messages from potential submissives, so I thought I'd make a little FAQ to help all of us out. Please read before messaging.  Can I be your sub? If that's your first message, no. I'm looking for local or nearish subs for real time interactions. I'm also looking for a specific arrangement. Most importantly, I'm looking for subs I can have a vanilla connection with. If me being human is a turn off for you, then I'm not the Dominant you should be talking to. Do you have a screening process?  I do. I can provide more information if you're interested. If you're not willing to screen, don't message me.  Why haven't you answered my message? There are many reasons I won't answer a message. Your profile has no picture and your bio is empty. Your message is a request of some sort. Your message is just "hello". You've said something I find offensive.  But my message was a compliment! Why won't you answer that? Very likely because you've sent something like "you're beautiful" or "I love your feet". And that's it. It's what I call a bait message, where you throw out a one liner statement and I'm meant to respond either with a compliment or by starting the conversation. If you can't be bothered to write a thoughtful message, I can't be bothered to respond.  I'm not on here much, can we talk elsewhere and get to know each other better? I will not give out any information about my socials or other profiles until I feel like there is a connection and I'm interested in getting to know you better. Until then, yes, you will have to log in here to talk to me. If that's too much to ask for, well.  *shrug*

I love being in a good place: Loving my response to a nosey kinkster:Have had 2 monogamous unions with 2 kinky odd balls I have had to put the odd balls back in the fish tankPersonally in a good place, received awards for my service literally, networking, working on my health and wellbeing, great hair, jogging again to loose some weight but average size so easy tone up and my bum looks great already just chiseling around average meat so all goodHey, my response is pretty chilled I must beI am sure you are knee deep in honest pussy all the bestC      

  Her previous Dom turned up at our house late one night with two of his mates He was saying things like where is your slut wife? Ive brought a couple of cocks for herThey had all been drinking and came straight from the pubI tried to explain that it was late and she had gone to bedHe went straight upstairs saying he was going to wake herI found out the next day when she told me that she was awakened when he pulled the bed covers completely off the bed She sleeps nude He made her suck his cock before dragging her out of bed by her hair She tried to put her house coat on but he wouldnt let herHe dragged her downstairs and into the front room naked in front of his friends This is Teds slut wife Holding her in front of them he pulled on her hair until she said yes, She loves big cocks dont you? again he pulled on her hair until she said yesThis went on for some time making her crawl on the floor barking and panting like a dog He made her Grunt like a pig and all three were laughing and making jokes about her I was told to go and fetch her whip and cat of nine tails he knew we had because he had used them on her before All three took turns whipping her leaving marks all over her He held her arms behind her back while the other two took turns whipping her tits She was crying her eyes out at this point They used beer bottles to masturbate her and even had her licking their shoes. They ended up fucking her in all holes They totally abused her as I could do nothing but watchAfter they left we went to bed and I gently made love to her She admitted to me that she loved every moment of her ordeal Her cunt was absolutely saturated so I knew she was telling the truthShe once said to me that it is not about the sex, she can walk into any bar and get a man for sex For her the sex is nice but it is all about the pain and humiliation She can get a man to tell her how beautiful she is but again that is not what she wants deep down

Getting back on track - had a terrible cough for a few days. Having ginger, honey and lemons and rest lots of rest. During my delerium (due to a possible flu) during some unrestful nights I had thoose dreams again. Me with two sain, sound and working professional men. The dream starts off pretty normal, a meet up in a coffee shop to understand what all parties want and don't want. Me over keen. I must admit my dream fast forwards a little bit which means in reality there will be some challenges, but somehow my mind it forwards to me in bed with two sound men and this clarifys, I would want them to enjoy being with me but if they felt flexible with each other I would clearly be happy to know the relationship as no limits. I honestly recall my dream there were a few positions and a few rotations of who does what where but I recall being very happy. Then I woke up and had to make some more ginger and lemon tea but at least I know my immune system is kicking in :)

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. 

Reason vs Emotion Many answer My profile with uncertainty about what and who they are. A few have even suggested (demanded, can you believe?) I kidnap them, confine them, torture them until (guess what?) they become what they actually need to be: a total slave.  More frequently, the neophyte slave wants Me to convince their reasoning self that they actually need to be what their emotional inborn self wants and needs. Engaging in dialog with this group leads to exhaustion on My part and ultimate discovery by the struggling slave that “we do not fit” or “it can not quite give up its current existence.” They are trapped in their own internal conflict that I would be hard pressed resolve for them.  On the continuum of living the reality and harboring dreams, fantasies and in born desire those described above are in the middle. Probably, as might well be depicted under a bell curve, that would be the 80% occupying the center range. My guess is about 10% of those with inborn need to submit will live their lives, probably with nagging discontent and frustration, without ever confronting that need. It is the last 10% of the population that I want to find. This last little group are slaves that have accepted what they are. Most likely, if they think about why they are what they are, they will consider themselves ‘born slave.’ Probably only 5% of that 10% will successfully arrive for my inspection. So, in terms of what I do here, the slave the responding to My profile should not expect chat or kidnapping. But rather, be prepared to sacrifice enough to travel to Me for the possible start of a lifetime of what they were born to do: service.

This site has been a part of my life since 2009.  I have grown and went through many life changes.  My Husband is My Master. We rarely go into Master/slave mode but when we do its what we need.  I realize real serious bdsm is a lifestyle not play and Him and I are far from vanilla. We are deeply spiritual and energy aware so even if we are not practicing what most view as bdsm we have a deep dynamic.  We have been hit with many things over the years . There is always wave for every person. Ours seemed giantic lol but we are together.  I was owned by a Master for ten years in the past. I can see clearly now so many things about that time in my life. There are regrets but we cant go back. It was never meant to be something I could have as a real life in all ways. I wish I would of known myself more but it led to what I was suppose to find. It taught me many things. There were times I thought that It was not safe and I never trusted. I wish I could talk to him but I dont think that will ever happen. I understand why. I really think He thought I was something that I never was . The mind web was so layered I will never know. I rarely wonder anymore because I know I will never get answers.  So I am here...I am just here . I have a few friends here and there that log in. 

Ooooo...I was *just* about to take off to Alli's Birthday Party when I realized that I Locked My Fucking Vehicle & House Keys Inside The House.😖😖😖😖😖😠😠😠😠😠😡😡😡😡😡🤬🤬🤬🤬🤬   Yeah, this time I actually *did* get Fucking Irritated.I get Annoyed/Fucking Annoyed every fucking day (to VaryingDegrees), unfortunately, but I get Irritated maybe 2-3 times yearly.This was one of them.       (I used to have a BAD Fucking Temper years ago...Embarrassing...& No Patience either. Damn Embarrassing. 😑😑😑😑😑)   I'm actually not used To Being Rushed. I'm A Loner, so I'm used To Taking My Time, but this time I gave in To Family's Wishes & when that happens then Dad Starts Rushing & Pressuring (that's why years ago I Finally Quit Going To Restaurants With Him, or even At All), & when someone starts Rushing me then I start Getting Annoyed...then maybe Irritated, so then I might then Make Mistakes.I Prefer My Own Pace.When I realized what I did, "my balloon popped" & I knew that I was NOT Going Anywhere Now. Suddenly I Had Work To Do: Breaking Into The House (freshly-showered, cleanshaven, well-dressed, smelling good, blah-blah)...Time-Consuming Annoying Hassle but a Must, certainly before I get in A Worse Mood too, sooo...yeah, I had to determine Which Window To Remove The Screen From & whoaaaaa...first Kill That Goddamned Big W Nest that was in the way that I suddenly noticed.          🤯🤯🤯🤯🤯

As M and I take our search for a bull more serious I would like to give you a little background on me. The following is my very abbreviated true life story and an explanation of how M and I ended up here.    As a young girl, I was always fascinated with sex and the power of what I knew was different from what others were into. I grew up in the middle of New Hampshire on a small farm and knew nothing of pop culture. My mom cut my hair, and her own willow switches. Both felt like their own brand of punishment. I was often bullied in school. Always by the boys. The girls tended to ignore me as I was bookish and weird. I will never forget the very first time when, backed into a corner, I finally kicked my aggressor in the balls. I felt a rush of power. Instantly I went from simply wishing they would leave me alone to read my book in peace, to looking forward with anticipation to the daily assault I would give them. Looking back now, I realize that some of them enjoyed the power exchange. By high school, I was a sexual demon. I didn’t know there were names for the roles I enjoyed. I just knew that sex was power, and I needed to feel that rush as often as possible. During my last year in college, I finally found a name for those roles. I started working at a fetish and fantasy house in Manhattan in 1998. I started there as a switch, and enjoyed it as a learning experience, but I quickly found myself drawn to playing the role of the Dominant Sadistic Goddess. Always with a wicked sense of humor. This was a great place to explore my kinky sexuality and fostered a lifelong love of the kink and BDSM community. But soon enough – I outgrew that space. I moved to San Francisco and spent the next 8 years as an independent professional Dominatrix. It was the way for me to explore myself and the world. I traveled all over the world to visit devotees. I put myself through law school, which became my “real career”. Turns out, I could not stay away and returned to my love of being a professional Dominatrix and BDSM educator in my limited free time.  In 2012, while visiting the East Coast, at a scene night in a Manhattan club, I saw a young man standing alone in rather vanilla clothing. He looked so helpless; it was clearly his first event. I saw not only a potential client, but someone I knew needed help. This young man turned out to be M who would later become my husband. We spent years building a relationship through sessions and dates that would follow. It was a slow process but we started involving each other more and more in our separate lives. Eventually my work outside BDSM brought me back to the East Coast. My relationship with M blossomed even more at that point, he was no longer a client. We were getting very close and were no longer exploring his interests, we were exploring mine. I decide to stop seeing clients and we moved close to each other. I turned my free time attentions to coaching women in BDSM and kink. After so many years of catering to the fantasies of men, I was captivated by women’s sexual journeys and helping them name and realize their own deepest desires. My experiences learning from other women confirmed what I had always suspected – that toxic masculinity is bad for EVERYONE’S sex life and I bring that ethos to my marriage and my life. M and I were married in a private ceremony in SF in 2016. I have stopped teaching in my free time and have focused all my kink energy in creating the exact lifestyle marriage I have always dreamed of.  Potential bulls, f you have questions and would like me to elaborate please don't hesitate to ask.  K

 ClubFEM_Massachusetts is moving forward! Please feel free to join the group on FL, for additional activity.  Just a word about our most important mission. All ClubFEM® events are attended by private invitation and the doors are closed to only members and invited guests. ClubFEM® events deliver on our promise of a 100% Female Authority environment, and this organization will remain non-commercial. How do I join ClubFEM®? For the Massachusetts chapter, Mistresses, Dominants or slaves, submissives who are interested in membership begin by sending a letter of introduction, as described below, to MESSAGE FOR GROUP CONTACT INFO.  Your letter of introduction will be reviewed by a ClubFEM® Head Mistress or member of the ClubFEM® Executive Board. When a favorable decision is reached, you will be asked to attend a ClubFEM® Munch or to arrange an initial meeting with a Head Mistress or member of the Executive Board. All initial meetings take place in a public place such as a restaurant or coffee shop. Successful applicants will be invited to attend other scheduled events. Anyone requesting membership in ClubFEM® must be at least 21 years old and this must be verified.   What should I write in my "letter of introduction"? The key to a successful letter is brevity. BE CERTAIN to include your email address and your geographic location (city, state, and country, where applicable) when writing. Tell us briefly about your interest in ClubFEM® and how you learned about us. We do not expect or want lengthy autobiographies from potential members, as we receive a large volume of email on a daily basis. DO NOT stress fetish or sexual subjaspects in this first letter and please refrain from sending us your fantasies.   Taken from the ClubFEM website.... clubfem.com/faq.htm  

7/30/2024 7:35:16 PM Well, well, well... A very deep and sometimes disturbing subject indeed!   I've had the need to take some time off.  I've been duped and while it is hard to admit that a woman of My age and intellect has been bamboozeled, I'm comforted knowing that this type of thing happens to many of us, most especially when we are vulnerable due to life circumstances or state of mind and that I shall be wiser for the game played.     While undertaking the supreme challenge of finding a right sub for Myself, I happened upon the GREATEST ONLINE MINDFUCKER that ever was and I discovered he has been playing around here and Fet for over 20 plus years and at least 39 profiles on CollarSpace to date!!!   VICTORY!  I finally was able to find them out though I must say I was led on a not-so-merry chase full of intrigue and suspense, aliens, judges, the government, medical organizations and secret societies! LOL  It takes all sorts.   After all, I have to laugh at Myself and how vulnerable My state of mind must be to have gone down that rabbit hole. I would not change the knowledge gained through the experience though I am seriously butt sore.   NEEDLESS TO SAY, ANY DOMINANT SLAVE OR SUB MAN READING THIS WILL PROVE YOURSELF OR PASS ME BY.   I have a phone, pictures, telegraph, google chat, skype and every other possible means of communication and verification including but not limited to a car! We chat, we verify, we meet or part.  

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

Often see these kind of statements:  “Will consider anyone who writes. Tell me what you are looking for”.  But the question i find myself asking is who is in control here, is it the Dominant or is this a case of the submissive leading from the bottom by stating what they want…….. Surely it’s the Dominants needs that are to be met and a submissive’s true need should be wanting to be controlled and Owned by a true Dominant……   Just a random thought. 

At last, another journal entry! Let's get started with my usual declaration: I am subMeghan. Right now, I am naked wearing only my glasses and my collar... And now on to today's journal entry... Apparently, my Dom has decided to introduce me to "ahegao".  Ahegao, for those, like me, who don't know, is an anime term for a specific type of face for a woman to make during sex.  The classic ahegao face is where you cross your eyes and roll them back, all the while sticking out your tongue.  My desciption does not do it justice.  Go google ahegao and you'll get a better idea of what it's all about. Apparently its a thing...  lol Making a ahegao face is harder than it looks, especially during sex.  However, my Dom wants me to do it, so I am going to do it.  My Dom recently placed a full sized mirror on the wall next to the computer.  Originally he did this so that I could see myself sitting here naked in front of the computer.  Now I get to use it to practice my ahegao face too. One thing I learned is that is is very difficult to stick your tongue and keep it still. I also realized that I can't see myself in the mirror very well when I try roll my eyes.  My Dom saiys: "The more stupid you look, the better you're doing it."  It seems I have a way to go... By now I know what my Dom wants: My Dom wants you all to visualize me just sitting here making ahegao faces.  So I am... That's all for now. subMeghan

Vanilla interests/conversation starters. I am not looking for a hook up, I am looking for a connection. Also, I'll still respond to small talk if you are respectful, it's just that I honestly dont understand the point of small talk on a dating site. If the point is to find your person, let's get out of the shallow end and get into some deep thought provoking conversation, actually get to know each other, right? I am the type of person who gets a stronger social charge from deeper conversation. Small talk drains my energy. I think it's vital to a healthy relationship to be able to support each other's interests, too.  Psych Honestly, just about any topic within psych I could have a conversation on, or want to learn more about.  History What gets my interest is the stuff that you have to dig a little to learn about. I'm not as interested in the same old topics that we have been talking to death for years. I want to talk about the stuff I dont know about. I want to share the things you didn't know about. I want us both to share thoughts and have a conversation we haven't had with anyone before. Think about things we never pondered on before. Something more original as opposed to the same old regurgitated bs. Religion I am not religious myself, but I do like to learn about religion. It tells you a lot about people, history, and social psychology. Really, I just like to learn about people. The history of people. Genetics, DNA, human migration. Again, this one is really just learning about people Politics This one obviously is a touchy subject, it's easier having these conversations with people of similar views and a literate mind.I will talk politics with an opposing view, but once it moves past a debate, where both sides are talking but no one is being heard, that's the point I walk away.  I am interested in psychology and history, with politics too. Things like Machiaveli.  As I have said before, you are also welcome to share your interests and see if there is enough mutual interest to have a good conversation. I am also open to talking just to talk, If I am on here, it's likely I dont have anything better going on anyway.