A letter to God   Is it an image that lies Cuz i believe You don't  Yet looking around  And what scenes i see Baffle as drivers Create accidents and We all know accidents  Happen because well, Who is driving, after all  And surrender tastes  Bittersweet yet i have been Beat beyond what time Can tell any for many may Believe it's easy, this life  That now aches inside  My body and beyond mind For what i know to be true Is what a friend shared To simply live, love and do For You, for ultimately  We die and no one cares And most of humanity  Cannot dare heaven On Earth but from birth  We learn to yearn for what Loss brought when fate Raped destiny and man Lost and woman lost And no children were Bred because soon Enough we will be Better off dead...     zamarra  7/13/24  

  If you demand, expect, or require any of the above or if you have any demands at all, then you cannot be a slave. I suggest you re-think what it is you want. Then you, the submissive seek a nice Dominant who you can share the fantasy that you are a slave with. I am sure that once you agreed on terms, you will have the time of your life!!!!     Now: slaves don't get vacation, 'personal' days or 'time off' for being sick. Well, they can ONLY IF they are granted such by their Owner.   However, they have NO entitlement to such things. As a real slave you will be expected to (and here's the shocking part) actually be a slave. I know - that's just so crazy, huh?       A real slave is expected to be a slave 24/7/365. This is why slavery, real slavery, is not for everyone; or even most people for that matter.   If you are thinking: "Hey, I want to be a slave."   But you do want recognition for your service, you want to be rewarded for your efforts, you want to be treated with 'fairness', you want some variety or flavor of “equality”, respect, compassion and appreciation, then you want something other than real slavery.   What you are probably looking for is to Role-Play the part of a slave in an OTS (Other Than Slave) relationship which is great and you will definitely enjoy it with the right partner.       Similarly:   Ownership is neither a simple nor a small undertaking, beware!   An Owner assumes total responsibility for the health and well being of their slave(s).   - Some Owners love to train their property, others do not.   - Some Owner choose to have a love relation with their slave, others do not.   - Some Owners love to micro manage their property while others do not.   - Some Owners enjoy the acts of bathing, grooming, feeding, clothing, and housing their property while others do not.   No matter which aspects of Ownership you may enjoy, every aspect of a slave is your complete responsibility.   Here is a listing of the bare minimal requirements that an Owner MUST attend to, in order to maintain their slave(s):   A. Housing:   A slave requires a 'dry' living space with protection from the weather, where the temperature will be reasonable to live in.   B. Bathing and Grooming:   For health and sanitary reasons, a slave must be fully cleansed at least once per week. Whether you provide access to a shower or simply run a garden hose, the slave still must be washed, regularly. The dental care and sight of a slave are also very important for obvious reasons.   C. Feeding:   A slave must be fed on a regular basis; to maintain good health in your slave, a balanced diet of nutritional foods and plenty of water must be provided by you for your slave.   D. Physical Health:   Sun, conditioning and training a slave is one important thing, but you will incur substantial medical costs if the general health and welfare of your slave(s) are not consistently kept in mind.   An Owner must acquire more than a cursory, basic knowledge in First Aid if Owner is Sadist.   An Owner must, in fact, be prepared to handle a wide variety of physical maladies and to do proper reading regarding long term consequences of the activities he submits it's slave to.   Owning a slave is difficult, demanding and stressful. As owner, you may forget relaxation, privacy or spontaneity for a long time and be prepared to make sacrifices before your slave will be anything close to your target.  

To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: byanthonyp16562M Dom To be a good master in BDSM, consider the following key qualities: Respect and Trust: True dominance is built on respect and trust, earned through authenticity and understanding. Responsibility: A good master takes responsibility for their submissive's happiness and satisfaction, putting their needs before their own. Communication: Effective communication is essential; a good master listens to their submissive and guides them into a space where they feel their control and authority. Empathy: Understanding and empathizing with the submissive's needs is crucial for a health

Above all else, I’d like my ideal M/s dynamic to be established on and occupied with love. Mutual respect is a must. W/we would foremost seek to meet each other’s needs completely in a monogamous relationship. He would be in charge, make the decisions, rules and protocols; but seek my input where appropriate and value my opinion. I would like to wear His collar (and leash when appropriate) as a reminder of O/our commitment. Shared interests, in both vanilla and kink activities, should be present. Shared values would also be helpful, in both social, religious and financial concerns. I would hope, after some time, that this type of relationship might lead to a union of marriage or long term cohabitation / commitment. Broadly, I’d like the power exchange dynamic to permeate the relationship both in and out of the bedroom 24/7, but that W/we both have our lives and lead them together and apart. I do not seek to be a “kept” slave, but I do want to know He is in control at all times. This can take the form of rules, protocols, and expectations / goals. I would expect that full discussion of limits (hard and soft) would be discussed thoroughly, and that safe words wouldn’t be necessary or allowed once trust was established. This would aid in the vast possibility of CNC activities (within the confines of the pre-established limits). I would hope He would also push my limits over time. While W/we are together, He would exert His dominance in whatever way He chooses. I would attempt to anticipate His needs, but obey His requests as made. These requests could be sexual, domestic, or kink in nature. As a masochist, it would be helpful if He were a Sadist. I want to know He is getting as much out of the impact play as I am. This Sadistic predilection would also aid in intensifying the play and intensifying the benefit W/we both receive from it. I would expect that protocols would be established to help define the power exchange dynamic. These would be different when W/we were together alone, or together in public (or with family and vanilla friends). Public protocols would be known to us, but invisible to those around us such as waiting until He takes a bite until beginning to eat, sitting on a specific side, looking for a head nod to get up from a meal, wearing an insertable while out, etc. In private, protocols might include clothing restrictions, eye contact restrictions, greeting positions, speaking, bedtime rituals, distance, etc. Protocols would also assist Him in maintaining control when W/we weren’t together. These might include communication requirements, requesting permission (i.e. to do things or go places), journaling, maturbation, bedtimes, curfews, and the like. The concept of “protect His property” would be an overarching protocol that would manifest as rules / protocols when apart, but when in doubt “protect His property”. The idea that when W/we are together, He is looking out for my best interest and safety, but when apart, that job falls to me. I would expect that He would want me to grow and better myself. He would help me establish goals and hold me accountable to reaching them. These goals could be educational, health, career, kink, etc in nature. Periodic oversight and/or establishing benchmarks would be useful in ensuring progress. Punishment or negative reinforcement would need to be outlined so expectations are clear. I always strive to be the “good girl”, however, I would expect punishment if deserved. While I wouldn’t never fail or disobey to get a punishment, I would need to believe that followthrough on punishment would be made if I deserved it. Punishment would be warranted when protocols were broken or if progress toward goals hadn’t been met. I realize that punishment is hard to define for a masochist, but not impossible.

Makes perfect sense  "Go to a movie... have dinner... look at a Rembrandt... talk about a poem... see a tree... look into a mirror together... do things that lead somewhere... AND THEN kneeling and giving orders has a reason... a purpose.. a deeper more fulfilling feeling of needs and desires..." -unknown  If I want to meet you,  our first meeting will be vanilla with a Dominant twist. It will be about getting acquainted with each other,  getting comfortable in each others presence. Our first meeting and those after will be dictated by Me. If you don't communicate,  don't expect Me to read your peebrain. If you have the audacity to agree to a meet and you fail to follow through,  you can be sure I will tax you if you reach out to Me again.  In the event you failed a previous meet, you will pay for the previous failure.

OK OK OK OK OK OOOOOKAYY Attn: MASTERS /OWNERS   i offically have the funds to get me anywhere in the united states i think. if you dont know me by now i have been seeking and owner /master to spend the rest of our times together. with that been said allow me to tell you ALLL about me incase your intrested in onwing a sissy pet. (Ps. excuse any grammer erros and or misspelling)  MY NAME IS MATEO OCAMPO AKA: MAKAYLA ERMOSA..   i am currently 24 going on 25 on april 9. i am average to fit build. hmmm lemmie see well im an aries but a very unique on... since my characteristics lean towards leading and what not and knowing i am not one to assume a leadership rolll  anything that over powers me. enslaves me or take the ability away to do what i want TURNS ME THE HECK ON!!! i crave it dramatically lol   knowing that ive develoed a sumissive personality and beacame a really really obidient little sissy property piece not to mention my youth and sexy boddy heeehee .....--- hmm this isnt coming out to well so ill stop right here and will rewrite on this topic when i get a spontaioius streak of the proper thought and bettter explained    nevertheless for now here you go  please feel free to ask away   just if you can possable make it a multiplle choice questions lol it would help me answer better lol    umm but yea long story short:   i have money to buy a ticket and go anywhere in the US i am a very willing kind obident sexxy little play thing looking to be owned. i am very adaptable and could be molded into literally LITERALLY anything you desire and pretty dam good at it too  lol (  i could just tell ) :)   so imagnin haveing a sexii little thing in the palm of your hands.. within a few weeks of training you have a very willing enthousiastic sissy toy doing exactly what you crave exactlly the way you crave it. sound yummy huh lol   so freaken florida is making it hard to obtain HRT and since i stopped before the bill went into place theres even more hurtles to get them :( it sucks so bad i havent been on inlike 3-4 month i think... i forgot... so one of the very first things i want to do is get back on HRT as soon as possible.  but dont worry im still cute petite and feminim :) juss saying lol 

There should be a place to go where you can fuck and feed. I remember with my ex we had sex pretty much 24/7. Call it the fuck and feed. Never found someone to keep up and even he complained about too much sex. Alas he was the only one I could just make/go get a sammich and we went right back it. We had sex in all the strange places graveyards temples churches, besides anywhere outside  We didn't discriminate.  This one time I dropped off my friend told him I'd pick him up in an hour my ex and I had sex in the car for the whole day we never stopped. My friend walked to my car (which was a parking lot) knocked on the window and said "some hour it's been over 12". My ex and I honestly thought it was like 10 mins. I have no regrets - just miss the sex all the time every time with a massive BBC. This i something of the past I don't want to stay there would like a repeat thanks 

I'm disappointed in people being rude on here, realized that there are submissives and slaves that are extremely rude and disrespectful, even after sending a polite inquiry. Then, to get a response asking thoughts on my political beliefs, and then not being able to respond quickly, I get called nasty political names. After writing a response explaining my position, and explaining how I feel, I'm blocked. A true sign of being a coward and low life on this site. There have been many wonderful conversations with Transgendered individuals, and I come to respect them more than some of the submissves or slaves that I've come to know on here.  It is no ones business to know how I feel in regards to political issues, or how I feel about the election results, past or current presidents. Its none of my business to know how you feel in this regard, unless you want to freely discuss it, but don't get upset or angry if they don't align with you.  In my opinion, I feel that politics and religion should not belong in a lifestyle relationship. I welcome to hear your opinion. Efforts should be put into establishing and developing a lifestyle relationship, than worrying, or stressing out about political bull shit.     

Thanks My wife's first words to me were a warning. "You're going to fry out there!"  I looked up from the sundeck at my condo and saw this pretty girl looking at me from a second floor balcony.  She had long black hair and was wearing a short crop top that showed off her flat stomach.  I waved and I told her I was fine and had lots of suntan oil.  I went back to reading the Washington Post like I did every Sunday morning.   I was new here, this was my first summer at this place.  It was steps away from the subway and had a big pool, a tennis court and gym.  I loved the sundeck, a big wide area for sun worshippers like me.  So every Sunday id head to the sundeck with my towel and the paper.  I would do a few floor exercises and sunbathe while reading the paper. I was flattered that this girl was watching me.   She was now talking to me every time she saw me.  "What are you reading?" she asked.  "Would you like a water?"  She would toss me a water when I said sure.  Over time I began to look forward to seeing her.  Eventually I asked if she played tennis.  She did.  She was pretty good and had a good forehand.  During a match we took a water break as we were at the net.  "Your shoe is untied." she said.  I looked down and she kneeled down and retied my shoe.   Tennis led to workouts in the gym.  She told me she was a trainer.  She'd give me tips on form and spotted me when I needed it.  I was doing a bent over row exercise and she spotted me and I felt her hand on my waist.  Her hand slowly went to my back and drifted lower onto my butt.  I could feel her fingertips touch the outline of the back of my bikini underneath my gym tights.  So now I knew she wanted more than a friendship.   We talked about bdsm.  She didn't understand it.  I told her about my kinks and why it turned me on.  I'll never forget her reply.  "Why don't you let me train you so you look stretched all the time?". The truth of it was that we love each other.  She's gay.  She's had a lot of trauma caused by men and wants nothing to do with them.  She understood my needs and we agreed that if this was going to work, she would have to accept my kink and I would never cheat on her.  She's met all my friends and doesn't participate in bdsm.   You might be asking How can this be?  This lifestyle is all about meeting one's needs.  As long as both sides agree to things it'll work out for all.  All I told her to do was to surround herself with beautiful things.   So my wife is my service sub.  She takes care of our home, she cooks for me, she takes care of the pool, the Jacuzzi, grocery shopping.  She loves it.  It was raining one day when I drove home from work and there she was, in her bare feet holding an umbrella for me to walk me to the house. She decorates for the holidays.  I hear her on the phone telling others how happy she is.  She knows that I love it when she walks around in a T-shirt and bikini.  She works out.  She loves sunbathing with me.  We fulfill each other's needs.  So to my lovely wife and sub, I thank you for your commitment to me and the love you've given me.    

11/27/25 - updated 12/2/25* I'm at a turning point. I'll be focusing on things and people IRL. If you're near Denver and want to meet up at an event, drop me a line. I don't get message notifications here on CS, so FetLife may be your best bet. I hope you have an enjoyable and safe holiday season! Blue (= *I was away from CS for a while due to an illness. The cause remains unknown, however the effects were evident... The left hemisphere of my head went numb for almost two weeks, and I completely lost hearing in my left ear. I had balance issues, trouble focusing, and since the ear and sinus infection spread to my eye, I had pinkeye. It was frustrating to be unable to attend events at the Dungeon, including the party I'd spent over a year planning. Most of my hearing returned, though I gave some permanent damage on the left side. I'm wondering if there may have been some effect on my mental health while the side of my head was numb... I'm doing OK for the most part, just facing some issues that I haven't experienced in years. I'll be fine, I know. As always, I try to keep a positive attitude. Unfortunately I didn't get much accomplished during the month or so I was ill, which is one big reason I'm focusing on people and events locally. I'm still looking for a sub/slave, though, so I won't be gone for good. 😉

“You Never Get a Second Change to Make a First Impression.” This quote has been attributed to Oscar Wilde and Will Rogers, although nobody knows for sure. Studies show a person will form a first impression within seven seconds or two minutes.   First Impressions- True for both sides of the sash  This was being discussed in a group, which made me think about some of the people I've met over the years. Some I remember fondly because they made a great first impression; despite how things turned out, I still hold them out as friends. Others may have made a great first impression, but it went south. Maybe they are good with words but less so about showing up; maybe they are keyboard jockeys and only want online, perhaps they are introverts, perhaps they are already in a relationship and want "discrete," or some other excuse not to show up.   I love that new little add-on to profiles where I can make notes about those who make a terrible impression, ghosting, those horrid one-liners by mail, etc., whatever it is. On the flip side, Use this to note those who are quite the opposite and make a fantastic impression and great messages. Why did you like them?  

Today is a bad pain day.  Physcially, emotionally and mentally.   i am beyond thankful i work from home and do not need to face the world, aside from a visit to my parents house this evening for dinner.  Agoraphobia can be crippling and the very thought of stepping a toe outside of my "safe zones" is enough to throw me into a panic.  With my extremely high blood pressure and resting heart rate, i need to do all i can do keep myself calm.  The last thing needed to add to the litany of issues is a stroke.   On a happy not i found an adorable notebook and metallic pens (my glitter ones died...sad) to keep track of my daily blood pressure readings, and soon to be mood and food intake.   Daddy said He is so proud that i am finally working on fixing me.  the body parts are easy.  it's the mental part that scares me.  i truly do not know if i am ready to face my damage.  i hope i find a really good therapist that doesn't mind if a stuffy or two come along on my appointments...  

  A submissive with Etiquette To be owned by Someone who wants to understand me and know who i really am, Someone who can Dominate me like no One and mould me to be the best submissive i can be. Someone who will not give up if the road ahead looks to be undulating but will guide me to firmness. Someone with a “can make it work” attitude as opposed to dismissive. i am and will be a very committed and determined submissive who gives my utter respect, devotion and loyalty.    Patiently waiting for my Leader to reach out and take hold of the reins.    (i am unlikely to make first contact but will always reply to all in a fitting and courteous manner that should be fitting of an online submissive)  

10172025 Thank you again to all who reach out with words of encouragement and shared experience.  I feel the supportiveness and it gives Me another speck of SOURCE which fills Me and carries over to care of My best friend and mother.  Thank you from both of us women.  I never have shared much about the dominant nature of mother, but it is enough to say we are matched well.     For those who are DRAINS on My energy, you know well who you are and your presence is the slow bleed in life.  One could hope it all balances one out in the end, yet I cannot help keep thinking WHATAWASTEOFCELLS. You have the capacity for greatness and yet you allow EGO to rule you and with it come all the rest of the bedfellows, or more commonly known as the 7 sins.  Such a sorrow and I pray you find grace and love in your life.   I am seeking.  Many men have flitted in and out, some sharing more of their self and then life gets in the way, and afterall still I am not served, WE are not served. No live in, no part time, and 'Blast! Nothin but mutton to eat."  lol I continue the search and refine, redefine and realign Myself for the PRESANT.  

lover of sparkles of the heart ✨ ✨✨ I am a sub. I feel beautiful when I submit to a Woman and am watched as my  breathing, my sweat and eyes are given to You. The release i feel when She allows me to let Her take over. I want someone who willingly takes “control” in the most vulnerable of situations because it meets both of our needs. I do not want to feel abused that i offer control of me. I value and respect it. True submission requires trust, honesty, communication and patience. Do I want to ALWAYS give up control? No, I don’t. I am interested in an ongoing relationship with ONE person. I am not intimate with people I am not in a committed relationship with. I am however curious about developing a relationship that is Female led. I know that what I want is definitely out of the norm, but I seek someone I can connect on an emotional, psychological and physical level. There is nothing more erotic in my opinion than being with someone who I care about deeply and vice versa. I want to be kinky with my significant other in the bedroom. But I want MORE. I want to watch movies with Her and talk to her about life. I want to cook together, snuggle and have tea in the morning. I want to go on trips and have a relationship. I am a kind hearted person who genuinely cares about people. I often invest myself too quickly in someone, thinking that the feelings are mutual. I am looking for a real LTR, monogamy, love in all its forms. Ultimately I want to get married and have children.

Push Limits!!! Why? Lack of experience and imagination or just to make make a submissive do things they stated as a limit. Fully understand pushing and developing a submissive towards the Dominants desires but those who start off by concentrating just on pushing & testing limits surely lack a true understanding of the lifestyle. As always i welcome the views and comments of O/others.

    Thought for the day. It takes very little to make a person’s day. It also takes very little to destroy it.  Be kind unless its appropriate not to.  

i stay stresssed out and depressed all the time anymore its hard for me to think its hard for me finding someone to be in my life when your family mistreats you your thinking pattern gets off of what you was going to do with screaming and yelling at me all the time it never fails i speak i get jumped on for breathing or moving 16 years of there mouths and mentally i really take much more it's killing me mental im already dead on the inside but idiots  doesn't care about me my feelings or my needs they dont care if i die anyways they tell me to kll myself nobody wants your stupid ass anyways fucking whore your nothing but a worthless piece of ass nobody wants ... and one cop in my hometown october said your ruthless piece of ass nobody wants when i was living at the apartment i was at so i stopped socializing i stop going to the store i busted my phone so i wouldn't have to deal with stupid ass bullies and i am at my breaking point and my landlord would let who ever in my aprtment because in august i was watching tv an smoked a joint before i went to bed an took my mucsle relaxer and then who ever had a key to my apartment did something because i was stiff an couldn't move and woke up next morning couldn't hardly move my right arm the second night they molsted me in my sleep and i can't walk for a week... they grab my right foot that is how i knew an i checked my self and i got pissed off them letting people in my apartment landlord was a jealous jesus christ freak that almost got me raped... i have no trust left with anybody at this point because when i do they abuse me 

Christmas '23, and what is it like ? I've mostly healed up. Added 4 yards of topsoil in front of my recently aquired home in Lacey. Planted a lot of bulbs. Mix of native wildflowers. And blueberries, raspberries, strawberries and grapes. My compost heap is better than yours, professionally managed by the songbirds lured there by the cleverly placed feeder. Cleared the path from the back gate to the bike trail. Blackberries are tough in this area, so that is a project to finish later, when I hope to add some cedar trees back there, and a lot of wildflowers. But it's mostly blackberry, now, and vines don't vanish when you cut them, that's just the start of the job. It's good to have a hobby. The neighbors have signed off on the new mailbox thing I want to make. Half whisky barrels, 2x2 cedar arbor, Wisteria or grapevines, undergrass irrigation, and a pair of big mailboxes.  My '80 Triumph convertable made it as far as the garage. Needs a lot of work. Old gasoline and 45 year old rubber, everywhere. It's cute, though, even if it bites my fingers every time I get a tool anywhere near it. 20 year old Ford spent 10 days at the dealer. Alternator, battery, the cable in between. Came back with belt squeek-eek-eek-eek. Which is really annoying because it's the loudest thing on the truck. Wonder if I can fix it. The tool shed has gone all electric, so the gasoline is now 'something I have to get rid of' where before it was an essential hazard to life & property that smells bad. The mower made me do it. It ran about half speed last time, and is too rusty to work on. An important part of the next dump run. And romance? Sadly, no. I blame the pandemic... Perhaps the new year in my new place doing my new thing will bring some relief. Perhaps my new, noticably smaller, trowser collection will help some. But what I really need to do is get out more. So, call me.

Reflection: Week 1 Well I would say that the first week has gone pretty well. I have worn my collar daily. I have used a plug all but one day. I will find some additional attire for around the house that will be acceptable. I have shared all of the messages with him that I have received since the beginning of the new year. It may be a small step but I feel like these things help maintain a good headspace for us bith and encourages intimacy on various levels. I will try to keep an ongoung update as time permits. Through reflection comes the opportunity for growth.

Let me tell you who I am and why I am this way. I am a natural leader! Not because I take it, because God made me this way. In High School, I was the Battalion Commander (the highest rank) for our military program. On active duty, I took operation out as the office in charge. I was enlisted but we were short officers so I was picked by field grade officers,  to lead the operation for my platoon. I didn't ask for any of this, it was given to me (by  God). I feel God gives us our path and it is up to us to walk it. I read the Bible, and it is very clear that he wanted man to be head of the house hold! You may ask, what about the women. Is she worthless, just an object, second rate! No, she is much more than most men realize, much more! She is his back bone, his purpose for living, his sounding board (to talk to on his ideas and hear her voice on it). Without a strong woman by his side, he cannot reach his potential (so he would never be at his best, without her)! You can agree or disagree, but like I said at the start, THIS IS WHO I AM!

  MistressVN: bi, 40 years BDSM experience.   164 cm, 53 kg, blonde with long hair, green-blue eyes. Feminine, elegant, classy, ESTJ (The Supervisor) personality type.   I am searching for a slave for 24/7, TPE, FLR serious, permanent live-in relation.   I AM A MISTRESS SEEKING A SLAVE, NOT A DOM SEARCHING FOR SUBMISSIVE!!!   5 basic traits for a candidate to meet the criteria of a slave:   Honest Devoted Pleaser Industrious Altruist   To be My slave, you also need to be social and single.   Check your personality type on Truity.com and let Me know your four letter combination type.   Check the above in order to save time for both parts. If any of the mentioned is not part of your character, you should move on.   With this said: read carefully below and I mean carefully, because I will know if you did as soon as you contact Me.   I am clean, disease free and expect the same from you.   Bondage, dildos, dominance are some of the activities I will make you part of, you will wear chastity belt and will be totally submitted to Me.   HOWEVER, THE MAIN FOCUS WILL BE ON SERVICE!!   I accept obedient novice who has the will to serve. Ideal Person:   Committed Genuinely submissive,   Organized and disciplined slave for personal services, 24/7 live-in,   permanent/long term relation. Obedient Healthy Ready to relocate within reasonable time You are into BD (bondage & domination) but not into hard SM.   Position open ONLY for long term/PERMANENT slave!!!   Kindly READ BELOW and CONSIDER, BEFORE you write to Me:  

Farewell to Autumn - Witkiewicz He penetrated more and more violently the mouth, which now only gave way little by little to the pressure of his lips, his teeth and his tongue. It opened completely, transforming itself into a wet swamp and burning with incredible sensuality, it took gigantic dimensions, it was the only thing really existing. Hela's tongue slipped like a flame out of that slimy, mollucoid mass, touched her lips and tongue, and began to suck, irritating her mouth madly... The pleasure, which flowed through her whole body, seemed already peaking, and despite that it intensified more and more, becoming of an intolerable force, which bordered on pain. The contact of this tongue which seemed conscious of his actions, he felt it everywhere in the spine, in the kidneys, and there, where billions of beings conceived in him rushed towards life, without paying the least attention nor to his great love, neither to the meaning of his existence, nor to any metaphysics. In the darkness of the body, in the swollen glands, at the complicated crossroads of the nervous pathways, everything pressed with elementary force towards a single goal: the only reward of the duped mind was an inhuman pleasure which destroyed it, giving it loneliness. unconsciousness of the moment.

Really annoyed that my profile is now blank. I updated it two days ago, only changing my age and the date listed at the bottom as the last time it was updated, and yet there is nothing there, now. Here is what it should say:   I am not currently looking for a relationship. I have decided that I need to take some time to work on myself before considering pursuing another relationship.I am happy to talk to people, but please be respectful.  I am a geek, a gamer, an artisan, and a mom. I am not interested in anyone elses fetishes. I do not care if you are horny. I am not here to help anyone get off. None of my pictures are less than two years old. I no longer look like I do in them. I am slightly thinner -- I think I've lost about 50lbs since the most recent of these pictures were taken -- and my hair is about six inches long all over as I work on growing it back out after shaving it all off to an inch long. Updated February 28, 2024

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

So, maybe I lack vision?  I am real, totally real, and wanting real, totally real... Why do people from across the country, or even other countries message me and want to like, just chat?  I am not looking to supply fantasies for some married man.  That is not my game here.  Local man, messages local woman, message back and forth a few times, move off site, message a few more times, (We can chat on the phone, but I will be honest, I hate phones, I use it to conduct business, and avoid it even at that, I even just emailed a doctor to avoid a phone call…  I read body language and facial expressions, and without them, I am lost in the conversation.  Voice inflection and pitch etc are lost on me.)  We meet for a quick coffee or something, so that if it is horrible it isn’t drug into a long awkward thing, and it if is wonderful we can sit and order a second coffee and sit for hours, or even get it to go, and find a park or someplace quieter to talk…   Then maybe progress to a meal, lunch, dinner, whatever schedules allow, and then progress from there… If you are in London, and I am in Kansas… are you planning to fly in for coffee?  Planning to relocate?  If so, cool, we can start chatting.  Otherwise… this is not the woman you are looking for… (waves Jedi hand and you pass on to the next profile…) NO You Star Wars nerd!  You did not just find the one if you are not local!  Go back to the begining and read again! Facepalm... lol

This is a topic which I have had more than a few conversations with other Masters and slaves. So I have decided to post what I believe here and what my house believes. I know this is going to rub some of the Masters/Doms or Masters/doms the wrong way. But we here at the House Of G believe in telling the truth, regardless of the cost to ourselves. Having said this let me launch right into the topic of my posting. "Collar of consideration or under consideration collars" 1.     The first thing that comes to mind is that the Master who has placed a slave under consideration is having trouble deciding whether he wants this slave to be wearing his collar and is unable to decided if the slave should be a member of their house. 2.     The next possibility is that the Master wants to have his cake and eat it too. He wants the pleasure of controlling and using the slave, without making a commitment to the slave, thereby avoiding the responsibility of ownership. Both are fundamentally wrong. Either the slave is worthy or has the potential to be worthy of wearing the Masters collar or is not. If more time and communication is required, then the Master should do that. The undertaking of owning a slave requires that you know everything about that slave before placing your collar around their neck. If there is even the slightest of doubt or concern, then discuss your concerns with the slave. Collaring a slave is not something taken lightly. It is actually making a commitment that we and many others will agree is more serious than the wedding vows and in some cases more binding and lasting.   “The trust between Masters and Slaves is based on the same behavioral Rules that regulate social life within a herd: Those who have obtained a higher rank in the herd assume at the               same time the responsibility for the weaker members.” A Master should reveal to the slave what is expected of them if they wear the Masters collar and what their boundaries and duties will be. All of this should be discussed in great detail almost to ad nauseam. For many in this lifestyle it’s far easier to shed ones clothing and belongings than it is to open up and be revealing about your real desires. We call this being emotionally naked and it seems to be one of the hardest things that one of my slaves can learn. “I have accepted a collar.” 1. This is not dating in any vanilla sense. You may find a slave and initiate a conversation with them with the sole intention of putting the slave in your collar. Nothing is wrong with this. However, why would you, give the slave the initial upper hand in the relationship (before it even starts) with having the slave make the decision to either accept or reject your collar? By offering your collar to the slave and not waiting until the slave asks for it, has not the “Topping from the Bottom” already begun?   2. It is the Master who will structure, dictate, and control the parameters of the relationship not the slave. Hence it is the Master, not the slave, who will really do the bulk of the work in making the relationship successful or not. 3. The slave has a simple, yet complex duty ... please the desires and will of the Master. The slave does what it is told, how it is told, when it is told, without hesitation, remorse or embarrassment.  4. In reality, it is the slave who should offer themselves to the Master for enslavement and collaring. NOT the other way around. You're not seeking the slave to "take home to your mother." You're not seeking them to place an engagement ring on their finger. While that may happen at some point, it is not the primary goal. The goal is to help the slave become the best slave it can be and to guide them to that end.  5. You want that slave, kneeling, naked at your feet, ready and willing to serve you with every fiber of their being to satisfy and please your desires.  I have never offered a collar to a slave. I was blessed to have a lifestyle couple with many years of experience act as my mentors when I first entered this lifestyle, and along the way I have had the opportunity to work with and meet some great Masters, who have all pitched in and helped with my education and mindset. But the main thing I have learned is the differences between the structure of a vanilla relationship and the structure of the Master/slave relationship. The commitment of a slave is on a whole different level than that of a vanilla relationship. And because the slave made it of their own free will and with the knowledge that they were surrendering all of themselves to the Master.  This bond between Master and slave is unlike any other currently known. Think about it, the Master offers a collar to the slave. The slave accepts it. Then later if the relationship or some aspect doesn't go as the slave desires, you've already given them a way out. But if they have to offer themselves to the Master, what they are saying is that they are ready to give the Master their all and that means 100% of themselves.  So let me end this by saying that the slave’s submission is not a gift. There submission is who they are and what they are. And if it is a “gift”, then the slave has certain expectations already that again reverts back to vanilla dating, that their charms (subtly translated sexuality) is something to be held in high esteem and treated as such. Yes, you can love and care for them. But their sexuality is yours and for your pleasure first. If at any point they feel that their "gift" is not that treasured by the Master, you again have given them an easy exit or even much worse a means of "topping from the bottom."   

Gratitude and Adoration slave needs to Iive in a world of gratitude and adoration. The more it emphasizes those two mental attributes, the happier it will be accepting its true slave self. My training will help it develop these two alternate mental states, slave.

  A mediocre Dominant tells.   A good Dominant teaches.   An excellent Dominant explains.   A true Dominant inspires.  

Things have been very rough this last few years. In the middle of the horror I discovered my exact needs and desires. All are leaning to 24/7. A TRUE EXPERIENCED Dominant. One compatible of course. One with similar interests as we need time together outside of just bdsm. I need fully trained. Supervised. Someone who pays attention when I think I can get away with something though I try my best to be a good girl. Someone to nurture me. Guide me. Ensure I hydrate and eat properly.  I need the rules. The punishments. The after care and the sincere love. I am in a vanilla relationship and beyond unhappy.  I have had limited human contact in years. The vanilla is too old. Impotent and zero desire. We live separate lives. I am more of a care giver.  I am willing to move almost anywhere but as a full time submissive.  I'm too poor to use what little I have to move in and find out we aren't compatible.  So meeting 1st is a must. I am fine with a hotel or cabin or even fly to you but trust must be established.  I will accept nothing other than EXPERIENCED. I am not switch. I'm fully submissive.  I want 24/7 but also would like a little loosening on my chain to feel semi normal. Yes I expect completely your knowing my comings and goings at all time. Mutual interests are time well spent. What are you looking for in a submissive?  

Finish her!   The whipping scene has gone on for 40 minutes.  My whipped body now hangs in my chains as the whipping stops.  I can see through the slits in the mask the looks of shock and surprise in the faces of the crowd watching my torture.  I can see the faces of some of my friends smiling at me.  They know what’s about to happen. My loin cloth is removed which shows the neon red string bikini I was wearing underneath it.  It glows like a hot coal in the black light.  My torturer comes in close and runs her hands over my whipped body and the raised welts on my stomach and thighs.  She goes over to the chain and starts pulling it.  It’s at this point the people watching think that I’m being lowered but I’m not.  I’m being tightened. I’m being suspended higher now and the ankle chains are getting tighter.  The room is silent as I’m now being torture stretched.  My ribs are clearly visible now and my belly gets pulled flat.  I’m moaning loudly now as my pain level has now reached a ten.  It’s now very difficult to breathe and I’m suffering.  I’m struggling with the last safety ball in my hand as I try to dangle it out of fingers in order to drop it, a clear signal to my torturer that I’m finished.  I can see the look of horror in some of the faces of the people watching my torment. I manage to drop the ball and I’m lowered to the floor, exhausted.  The scene ends with a passionate kiss from my torturer and I limply stand there still in chains.   My mask is removed and I’m led to a nearby bondage table to recover.  I’m surrounded by friends and a few attendees as they ask how I am and if I’m alright. A few want to see my welts.  I guess it’s too see if the welts real.  They are.  I’m showered with compliments and it makes me feel fantastic.  I’m going to remember this night for a long time.  

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! 

Thoughts on a new 'person' one step removed . Sending messages to new people is fraught with nervousness and trepidation as there is no real way to know how they will be received. A non-reply obviously shows something, but only if the sender knows the message was received to then be ignored. Age, sex, orientation, role, even distance, of both parties, will also give an indication of how it will be read and dealt with, but this can be offset by the BDSM world where some of the more obvious criteria do not apply so ‘strongly’. Asking the question(s) that you really want the answer to, but almost dare not ask or do not ask, does not make life any easier – for both parties. Being submissive or ‘overly’ friendly can lead to misunderstanding when replies are sent. Or lead to further messages to clarify the previous text ‘meanings’. Obviously, this is like real life too, social media is also full, maybe more so, of miscommunications. So, from the perspective of this writer, being: Male, semi Straight, Dom, Creative, of no discernible cult or type (unless being a keen biker counts), older than most, slightly shy and as arrogant as fuck concerning his own Domly skills. Writing a message and sending it out into the ether to land at a stranger’s mail box is still a thought provoking act. Therefore, after drafting a message, editing it, almost sending it before seeing ‘there’ and not ‘their’ so editing it again and then rewriting half of it you press the send key and sit back and try not to wait for the answer. If no answer appears after a week, or a month, then you don’t need to think about it anymore and file it under ‘ah well, that’s a shame’. If a reply appears, especially with witty words ‘linked’ to your (what you hoped were) witty words, then a whole new set of ponderables start to take form as you sit in front of your keyboard about to reply. Was the reply sent because ‘she’ is a polite submissive, because 'she' was a polite human being, liked the style of the message compared to the dross many send, or is ‘she’ actually interested in getting another message? So, message 2: More forward, Certainly. More confident, hopefully. An easy question or three, taken from their profile info to show you have read it, is a good idea. A little more information about ‘Me’ and even more about why the first message was sent – bravery test time. The wait begins again! If a quick reply this is either a good sign with answers and questions of ‘her’ own or a version of ‘Go away, I was polite once don’t push your luck’.If a long pause, then the normal questions nag at your lizard brain again until that ping sounds, and a reply appears – the previous 2 types obviously still apply. If the reply is positive then now it is time to stop pussyfooting around, ask the question, give your reasons why they really should say yes and agree, and, if using a useless forum, like FetLife or the million other internet sites, give them your email or phone number, for text or WhatsApp, for easier chatting. This will either get a happy 'ok' response or the ‘maybe later’ reply, which is not so encouraging, If you reach this point, then it should be fairly plain sailing to send the next message, getting to know them and even meeting or, obviously, putting your foot in your mouth and getting a 'goodbye'. Thoughts over, now just need the 'she' to see this in the hopes it helps with My communications.

Service person I was out walking along the board walk that runs in front of my condo along Puget Sound. This mile long walkway is busy with pedestrians many with their dogs getting their daily exercise in a rather spectacular setting: delightful. Anyway, most all one might encounter are vanilla types or if they are into D/s not ‘out of their particular closet.’ Most are older with various infirmaries, but, ambulatory. Many have dogs that are poorly trained. Dogs that jump at passersbys or are otherwise ill trained. Occasionally, there are service animals providing protection, direction and confidence to their owners. Rarely, there are guide dogs seeing for their blind wards. Behind me, as I walked, trialed, one and one half step and slightly to my left thank you, my slave property. it walked, as it should, with its eyes focused on my heels with its mouth firmly shut. When I stopped it stopped, as it should maintaining its distance and focus. I was stopped by a chatty elderly woman, vanilla no doubt, that wanted to engage in ‘pleasantries’ for her, no so much for me. Anyway, I put some effort into agreeing it was a beautiful day and dog owner should be more careful to pick up after their mutts etc.  Breaking my boredom she asked, “and who is this with you?” It then dawned on me what her reason probably was for interrupting my walk.  “This is a service person in training.” I said without prior intent or particular consideration for all honest things in my life.   “What in the world is a service person?” she demanded. “Well, (have you noticed how much BS is started with ‘well?’) there are people in the world that have various chronic afflictions that need careful monitoring. Everything from sleep walking to certain types of epilepsy to cardiac conditions etc. Some people have combinations of these afflictions. Although dogs can be trained for some situations training a dog for combinations gets impossible. And so, humans of a certain type are trained to the task.” She was not particularly impressed with my creative explanation, although I confess I enjoyed it a lot. “So what do I call you?” she addressed my slave. Now it knows it does not interact with others without my express permission. So, it looked at me with the ‘what do i do now’ look. “You will have to excuse my trainee for not responding. Just like the service dogs you might encounter, it (I did slip up with that ‘it’ she was vanilla after all) needs not be distracted by attention from others. You know like petting or talking to it (oops again).” With that I continued on my way with slave in trail. As I walked I was designing T shirts that proclaim service person in training for it and service trainer for me or some such variations. Anybody know where I might get T shirts custom printed?    

Feeding on the crumbs and starving She embraces different experiences with different people in different situations trying to quench the thirst that keeps building inside her. She wants to be in a collar on her knees .... she longs to feel her submission again, to turn over the reins that strangle her and hold her in top space. She understands her value in top space but it doesn’t feed her soul. She has been looking for years for the situation to change ..... thinking it will happen when its suppose to happen until then trying to feed her hidden side from the crumbs left about in these different situations. A little submission here, a little consensual non consensual there, just small almost minuscule crumbs. There are days where she decides it just isn’t a part of her anymore and she pushes away the feeling refusing to let it in and sometimes she succeeds for a while but the void continues to grow, the walls fall in on her and its the only thought in her mind. That is when it consumes her cruelty reminding her of her needs, her feelings, and her memories. Like a movie you cant turn off...... she can see herself so vividly, she can feel the feelings she once felt, she can taste the release in her obedience, she remembers being engulfed in him and in that moment she worried only for his want in her. She is coming back out slowly, kind of scared and kinda lurking. What drives her, what pushes her is the fire that burns, the thoughts she cant get out of her head, the feelings that linger like a drug to an addict ..... she is close to self domination for the first time in her life which is a very confusing thought for her ... she holds on gring at straws and living in her dreams...she doesn’t know how to approach people, she doesn’t know how to get close to people and she cant automatically trust .... these things will leave her with herself, her memories, her dreams

It is always trying to improve itslf by learning new skills to serve a potential Owner . It has recently received some human toilet training. It is now VERY experienced in the consumption of Alpha male yellow. Are there any local London UK men who would like to help it train further by using it BY DUMPING YOUR BROWN WASTE DOWN ITS THROAT  ? It could possibly travel to you , if you live further afield , but , it would need to be for a weekend , or longer , where you would chain it and use it daily. Naturally , other forms of servitude could be provided. ONLY 100% Top men please , who are not overweight. NO versatiles , females or TV/CD's.  Please get in touch Thank You 

Inspection The first step in the process of a slave becoming My property is inspection.  I have been asked many times what is involved with inspectuin,  Here it is: Inspection is its opportunity to demonstrate its desire to become nothing but slave property: an it. Inspection may take just a few minutes. How long does it take to inspect a piece of meat? What will happen at inspection depends on how it pleases Me. it may be sent away with nothing more than a casual viewing. it may be offered the opportunity to demonstrate its desire to become nothing. At inspection, it may leave at any time without any restraint. In other words it will still have choice. However, if both Master and potential slave property agree more may take place. For example, Master may take the time and trouble to explain the process by which the slave becomes property. The slave may have the opportunity to ask questions. Further activities may, or may not, follow.

Bridget Choses Enslavement   Bridget’s emotions were running wild.  The ride up to Master’s gave her ample time to reflect on this special occasion.  Bridget was to be enslaved today.  Master had often told her that all women secretly wanted to be possessed and owned by a dominant master.  Collared.  Be an enslaved slut.  Bridget had embraced her inner slave and wanted the delicious certainty of being a strong Master’s owned property.  What a glorious feeling to have no need to carry on with the soul killing charade of denying her sexuality, her submission, her needs and desires. Bridget was so sure.  She couldn’t wait for their special ritual.  The ritual was ordered by her Master but she had made adjustments and additions that had delighted Master.  She knew Master treasured her and all of her. He often remarked on her intelligence and how it drove her kink and also drove his passion to be her owner.  Master always said women with a desire for the collar, for enslavement were usually the very intelligent ones.   Before she left home Bridget paid attention in the shower.  Her shaving was meticulous. Her legs, arms, and pussy were smooth as possible. She thrilled at the thought of the way Master would cup her smooth, oiled pussy and run his hand back and forth as she squirmed and moaned. She knew Master loved to lick and kiss her clit.  He also like to use his Hitachi and a soft makeup brush on her.  He’d alternate the vibrator and brush on her clit.  Sometimes he’d just stop and listen to her breathing.  Bridget loved it when he chained her wrists and ankles in his bed and made her come over and over until she screamed.  He’d gag and blindfold her and make her come some more. Master had learned early in their play to put a towel under her.  The wet spot was something to see. Bridget’s enslavement ritual outfit was all white and had been her idea.  Master had suggested adding long white gloves and she agreed with relish.  Once out of the shower, at Master’s direction, she installed two Ben Wa balls in her pussy.  They went in nicely.  When she walked around she could feel them as she moved.  She wondered if walking in heels would accentuate the sensation.  Oh well, she’d find out soon.  Bridget loved Master’s toy collection.  He had a veritable fleet of vibrators including a very useful remote controlled beauty.  Master said he was shopping for an internet controlled vibrator for some long distance fun.  He also had a selection of nipple clamps, some fun and some she feared.  There was a lot more and she was sure the list was growing After carefully pulling on her white stockings and attaching them to her sexy garter she slipped on her skimpy white panties.  A curvy white push up bra completed her underwear.  She had a nice white blouse with a plunging neckline that accentuated her cleavage. Her brief white skirt would expose her slim legs and white stockings.  Finally she slipped on her white high heels with thosecute sexy little ankle straps.  Naturally she added accessories like a string of pearls and a bright red lipstick.  She decided she’d add her fragrance and put on the white gloves when she arrived at Masters. The miles rolled by.  Her heart sang.  She had made her decision.  It felt so right.  All the things she wanted to experience would be hers in a safe and protected place.  Master would help to explore all the dark kinky places she dreamed about.   The highway intersection appeared on her GPS. She had to turn north.   It was time to call Master.  She heard the phone ring.  Her emotions ping ponged.  Master answered with a pleased voice.  She was close.  He could almost sense her.  They both reveled in the joy of anticipation.     Master remarked that he was looking forward to draping her with his new 1/8” stainless steel chain.  Perhaps chaining her breasts with a nice halter.  When he mentioned that he’d like to chain her in Sirik Bridget’s was incredibly turned on.  The thought of the chain running from her collar to the chained wrist manacles and finally ending on the ankle manacles.  Sirik chain bondage allowed movement but served to remind her that she was owned, protected property.  Master loved everything Gorean and spent a lot of time finding ways to practically adapt the mores of Gor to earth.  A significant Gorean notion is that bondage enhances a woman’s beauty.  Bridget agreed but also concluded bondage made her horny as hell. The rural setting, the trees, the quiet appealed to her.  Here’s the driveway.  Turning right and pulling up the long driveway she found herself next to Master’s car and she knew, the beginning of her life changing event was close at hand.  She put her car in park and applied the parkingbreak.  She felt that she also applied a break on her normal, vanilla life.  She would enter the BDSM Sea.  Enter it as one of the more exotic and nuanced denizens.  She would be a slave girl, specifically a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  Bridget and Master had discussed many aspects of enslavement, slave protocols, sexual ownership, and what they each wanted.  She agreed with Master that after all, it was at its heart, an exotic adult game.  They both knew few could play the game, few could accept their role, and few could adhere to the rules and enjoy them with intense satisfaction.  Bridget loved her role and while their private play was so satisfying, she looked forward to their forays into various forms of public play.  Public Play involved exposing part of her BDSM life to the vanilla world.  Bridget always found it surprising.  She couldn’t believe the naughty sense of excitement she felt when she was exposed.  Was it humiliation, she wasn’t sure but it was very kinky indeed. She applied the bright red lipstick.  She loved the color and loved that her Master had told her he loved bright paint on her lips.  He said she was so attractive and luscious and he wanted her lips prominently displayed for him.  Next her fragrance, chosen because it was both understated and exotic.  At last she pulled on the long white gloves that came up to her elbows. Bridget and Master had discussed how she’d wear the long white gloves and he’d hogtie her and use his ball gag.  The picture in her mind of the helpless position always made her wet and horny.  Master had done this before.  Usually he rubbed a rabbit fur all over her body before he pulled her hair and squeezed her tit while he told her how he felt, what he wanted, and what he’d do with her next. As she turned toward the house she found the garage door open and as she had been instructed, she entered the garage and went to the back door leading into Master’s Rec room.  The lighting was subdued but she saw two large shapes draped in thin cloth.  She knew these were their BDSM toys.  Master had built a large cage for her amusement and a sturdy St Andrews cross that would fulfill her desire to be suspended and held helpless. Master had promised to cuff and chain her to the cross.  She knew she’d be naked and looked forward to the way master slipped a gag into her mouth before he applied something to her ass. Usually he forced a silicone bit gag into her mouth before he used his snake whip on her.  She could bite down on the bit and scream at the same time for the serious relief she craved.  Master had assured her she’d receive a serious whipping and perhaps caning that would leave some minor marks.  She wanted the marks.  She wanted to feel his touch afterward.  She wanted all of the things that ownership demanded. She knew Master had plans for an interesting combination Stocks and Spanking Bench.  Bridget had told Master she’d love to be placed in stocks and have her ass molested, pinched, bit, and butt plugged. She wondered if he’d make good on his promise to administer an enema while in the stocks.  Master had a lot of toys and equipment.  He had showed her the enema paraphernalia and it included an interesting flow meter that Master said was important to ensure reasonable flow and comfort.    Climbing the stairs she heard Master’s voice and it made her heart skip a beat.  She loved the way he spoke to her.  He didn’t speak at her rather he spoke with her, sharing his thoughts and sometimes emotions.  Master was sitting in a large black leather chair.  He was wearing his black suit with a black mandarin shirt and a nice red pocket square.  He leaned forward and motioned for her to come up.  He wondered about her trip and if the Ben Wa balls were still in place and how she liked them.  She told him about her journey and, yes, the Ben Wa twins were still in place and had directed her attention at the oddest of times, like stepping on the brakes. He asked her if she was ready, if she wanted to go through with their plans.  Did she really want all the things they had planned for, had discussed.  She knew what he was asking, giving her a graceful out.  Her mind was made up but his trust and care made her even more convinced that she wanted enslavement, wanted slavery, wanted to be an owned woman, Master’s property.  All of their discussions had led to this decision.  They both saw a Master/slave relationship as the purest and incidentally most fun form of a BDSM power exchange.  Both of their roles had been defined in term that made sense to both Bridget answered him by unbuckling her shoe clasps and removing her heels.  Pulling the ribbon from her hair she let it fall loose about her shoulders.  Bridget smiled at her Master and began removing all her clothing.  Finally she stood before her Master totally naked.  Master seemed very pleased. He rose and ran his fingers gently all over Bridget.  Master believed that a Gorean Master took great pride in his Kajira, his slave and should be familiar with every inch of her. Bridget knew that her actually collaring demanded that she be naked. She knelt gracefully before him, raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists.  Bridget had assumed the Kolar or collar position of a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  She knew the message she was sending was that she was ready to be bound and collared.  Naturally she looked down and waited for Master.  The decision was not only made but by showing her acceptance of their planned bond to her Master she knew it was done.  How happy, how fulfilled.  She almost wanted to cry the emotions were so strong. Her life as a Kajira, a Gorean slave was about to begin.  See accepted that she must always be pleasing and offer perfect obedience. Master formally asked her why she was before him and what were her deepest desires for enslavement.  She continued to look down and at first her voice was a whisper but as she gained confidence she became secure and spoke with a clear steady voice.  She asked to be enslaved.  She pledged to serve Master in all ways.  She would be pleasing at all times with perfect obedience.  She would be the owned possession of Master, subject to his commands, dressing as he directed.  She spoke the words of enslavement, “bind me master”. She spoke the timeless pledge saying she wished to be enslaved and then crossing her wrists in front of her asked that Master bind her.  She felt the ceremonial tying of her wrists with the traditional Gorean yellow bindings.  Master then said he would complete the ceremony, their enslavement ritual, by collaring her.  She felt the collar begin to encircle her throat.  She gasped as he pulled her hair back so he could buckle the collar.  Her formal slave collar was polished metal and had a screw driven locking mechanism.  It would be difficult or next to impossible to remove, not that Bridget would ever think about removing the symbol that encircled her throat.  Master completed fastening her collar.  He took her chin in his hand and remarked on her beauty and suitability to be his Kajira. Master removed the bindings from her wrists and ordered her to stand and had her turn around slowly to display herself. She looked at herself and saw the beautiful collar.  All she could say was “La Kajira, La Kajira”, Gorean for I am a slave. Bridget now understood in a most intimate way that her master treasured her and wanted to enjoy his treasure.  Master had two more things to complete the ritual and the first had Bridget very nervous.  Bridget knew she was to be branded.  Thankfully the branding didn’t call for a real white hot branding iron.  Bridget received a henna dye print representation of the Gorean Kef, a very delicate elaborately beautiful “K”, leaving a sharp red image high on her left thigh.  Next Master spoke her new slave name. When Bridget and Master were together in their new roles, she would be “Sefa”.  Master explained that her new slave name was pronounced SEHF-ah and meant pleasure.  He said she was named that way to remind her how she must always be his pleasure slave.  She didn’t think that would ever be a problem. It was done. Bridget had been collared, branded, and named.   Master said he accepted her as his Kajira.  Master directed her to put on her garter, stockings, panties, and heels.  He snapped a leash onto her collar ring and said “bracelets”.  Bridget immediately put her wrists behind her back, slightly bowed her head, and turned around to receive Master’s manacles. Using the leash and her bound wrists he moved her forward.  Master led her around a bit and then out around the deck. Master often told her that bondage made a woman more beautiful and that served to make her move in a sensuous, elegant manner.  Bridget agreed and could think of nothing better than to be on her knees with her Master’s cock in her mouth. He took her over to a chair by the deck table.  He motioned for her to kneel.  He unclipped the leash and attached a short piece of chain to her collar.  The chain was connected to a d-ring embedded in one of the large deck posts.  Bridget was chained to a post with her wrists bound.  Never before had she felt so at peace.  She was owned.  She had been confined on her Master’s deck.  She felt the chain on her chest.  Bridget’s excitement was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation.  She was on her knees dressed like a tarty slut, out in the open for all the world to see.  She realized that Master was exhibiting her as his prize possession.  Of course she thought, it’s highly unlikely we’ll be disturbed.  We’re out in the woods on a secluded property with foliage all around.  Master laughed and said UPS or FEDEX might show up. Bridget’s life as a slave had begun.  She wished and waited for what was next.  Master said she was to be caged in his slave pen after they had discussed their enslavement ritual.  Master took a plate of fruit and picked up a small piece of melon.  He held it out for her to nibble. She daintily nibbled the fruit.  She was being fed by Master’s hand.  She felt a deep bond and happiness.  Next Master poured some of his cool drink into a small bowel.  He placed it before her and motioned for her to drink.  He was watering his slave, caring for his prize possession.  She knelt before the bowel and lapped at the drink. She felt so humiliated to be made to drink in this fashion but it also was so deliciously kinky.   Her journey had begun.  Life would never be the same.  A calmness, a fullness, a richness had descended on her soul.  Master caressed her cheek and breasts and then checked the manacles.  He also adjusted her collar.  Bridget knew master would always make sure she looked her best.  She was his prize possession. Master leaned back and took a small velvet sack from the side table.  “Nadu” Master commanded and Bridget went into the slave position that had her kneeling with her wrists behind her back. Bridget was fascinated  She knelt with her thighs spread wide, back arched, wrists crossed behind her back.  Master produced a bright red ball gag and told her to open her mouth. Bridget felt the ball pressed tightly into her mouth as Master firmly buckled the gag in place.  She found her hands bound behind her back, and the ball gag reduced her to small whimpers to communicate.  She knew she was vulnerable and totally in the control of her master.  It was delicious.  It made her wet just to think of all the things he would do with her.  The bracelets were gleaming metal and had a short length of chain between them so they were relatively comfortable. Master helped Bridget to stand.  He pulled her panties down to her ankles and helped her bend over. He guided her to lay across his lap and began to stroke and kneed her ass cheeks.  Master remarked that she had a pleasingly plump ass that just begged to be spanked.  Bridget felt her Master applying some kind of oil on her ass cheeks.  She wiggled across his lap into a more comfortable position. It made her feel exposed, controlled, at her Master’s mercy.  Bridget couldn’t believe how excited she felt, how she wanted more, more attention, more control. Master told Bridget that he wanted to assert his ownership, make sure she knew she was his property.  Bridget whimpered her assent. She wanted to be his,begged her master to have her, to make her his own, anyway he wanted.  Just do it now. Master began a slow rhythmic paddling of Bridget’s ass.  Slowly at first but soon faster and harder.  Bridget moaned and gasped. Master paused and asked Bridget if she was his, his property. Bridget thought “yes, yes, yes, have me, have all of me.  I am your Kajira and want to be nothing else”.  Master held up one finger which was the signal for silence Bridget was surprised that Master had shut her up, to be quiet.  She understood that he wanted to be in control.  He told her he felt so completed by their rituals.   Master loved the idea that they had built their own kinky world and Bridget loved the way he ruled it. He could silence her with a command or perhaps a gag.  She loved the delicious excitement when he placed a nice red silicone ball gag in her mouth.  Naturally Master could silence her by imposing speech restrictions and she always complied but the ball gag was so hot. Master reached behind her to the small table by his large leather chair.  Bridget felt his movement and turned her head.  “Oh my” she thought as Master’s hand held the red ball gag, a shiny bright metal butt plug, and a tube of lubrication.  Her heart beat faster as she realized she was in for another anal training session.  

The Gift (ending) After awhile she got up and stood behind me. I could feel her hands slowly glide over my body from my arms to my hips. I moaned at her touch. Then with both hands she placed them on my hips and pushed me forward. I was being stretched. I could see my reflection and I realized that the mirror wasn't for me but it was for her. I could see her looking at the effaspects of the torment as our eyes met in the reflection.    I moaned loudly as I my head tilted back.  The chains rattled as I strained to endure the torture. She released me and I swung back to my original position.  She went back to the chair and sat down. Your body was made for torture she said.    She lit another cigarette and watched. I hung there trying to comprehend my situation. I felt like my body no longer belonged to me. I was now her torture toy. My body betrayed me. My nipples were hard and erect and I was sweating now.    This went on for a long time. Back and forth.    Finally after a long time I heard her cell phone vibrate. She looked at it and then at me.  She said Fifteen more minutes.    What choice did I have. I hung in my chains and suffered some more.    She got up and left. A few minutes later my Domme returned. She smiled at me and unchained me. Go to the bedroom she said. I want to have tortured sex. She walked out and I glanced over at the ashtray.  There were 8 cigarette butts there.      Next up. The Gift pt 2

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

The below is a great place to start.. Rules 1. The male must always practice respect, whether in private or public. Stand when she enters the room. Sit (or kneel) as soon as She is seated. 2. Be totally attentive: open doors, offer her your coat, she sits first, begins to eat first, and always ask permission to leave her presence. 3. The male should never speak unless spoken to, or unless anticipating the needs of his Mistress. 4. The submissive will never sit with legs spread or slouch in a way typical of untrained males. Good posture and decorum is a sign of respect. 5. The male will never stare at a woman without her permission. Unless the woman seeks eye-contact, the submissive will keep his eyes lowered at all times. 6. When walking with his Mistress, or any woman, the submissive will keep his gait in step with hers, which usually means taking smaller steps. The male should always be at least 1-2 steps behind, but not too far because he must open all doors. 7. The submissive must always be pleasant, never argue and never pout. 8. The male surrenders control of how he spends his time, how he dresses, what he eats, where he sleeps, the friends or acquaintances he is allowed to keep. 9. The submissive must remember that his orgasm does not belong to him but to his Mistress. It is Hers to use or deny... however she sees fit. 10. The submissive may never touch his own genitals without the permission of his Mistress. When washing, he must use a wash cloth or brush, never his hands. 11. The submissive should never buy his own clothing without the guidance of his Mistress. He should buy what pleases her, not what he likes. 12. When urinating, the submissive will always sit on the toilet... no exceptions. 13. The submissive must submit to eating only “submissive food” selected by his Mistress whenever she requires it. 14. When a meal is over the submissive must be quick to clear the table and wash the dishes. 15. The submissive must always give his Mistress the first choice of everything — She picks the channel on TV to watch, the restaurant to go to, the movie to see, the friends to entertain, etc. 16. The submissive will perform all household chores for his Mistress , to include(but not limited to): sweep and vacuum all floors and carpets mop all floors dust and polish all furniture make the beds every day wash and fold all clothing linen scrub bathrooms clean kitchen Cook meals wash dishes set the table shop for groceries take out trash and sort recycled items run all errands. Keep the lawn and grounds in great shape. Fix broken things around the house. Keep things maintained ie change the furnace filter every 3 months. Wash all cars inside and out. 

Random ficlet: I gleefully stood, naked, and allowed my my hands to be bound together by a man who I knew wanted nothing more than to devour me. I grinned in anticipation as he guided my bound hands above my head and looped to tail of the rope through a chain hanging from the rafters above us. Once the rope was looped through the chain, I noticed him smirk as he pulled the rope tight and my arms were stretched further over my head until I had to rest mostly on the balls of my feet, leaving me in an unsteady stance.   I was so wet that I felt like my slick was dripping down my thighs and my pussy was clenching in anticipation and nervousness. I couldn't help but shift around in my eagerness and groaned as I felt my naked thighs sliding wetly against each each other as my pussy practically drips with want.    My eyes were wide as you faced me and pulled my right leg up to expose my pussy. You clutched your throbbing dick in your hand. I felt you take a moment to rub your cock along my wet slit, I hear you groan when your dick meets the warm and wet folds of my pussy lips. I feel your grip on my thigh tighten right as you slide your dick easily into my wet, slutty hole.   I groaned, and before I even had time to register the intrusion, you were pumping into me, eager to feel more of my slick, clenching hole.   This didn't last long, though, as it wasn't nearly all that you wanted. You pulled out, much to my displeasure, my pussy was throbbing and needed much more. I saw you retrieve the leather belt from your discard pants and knew my ass and thighs were about to be on fire and I shuddered in a combination of trepidation and want.   I watched you loop the belt in half and pull it taught, making the leather snap delightfully. When our eyes met, I watched your face turn predatory when you met my playful and challenging look. I grinned, and hoping to sound more confident than I was in that moment, I looked up at you said "Do not bore me.”   I watched as you shook your head and gave me a sly grin as you casually walked behind me. I heard your shifting movements, so the crack of the belt on my ass didn't come as a surprise, but the intensity was.   Normally I have to coax a man into being comfortable taking what he wants, I habitually challenge Doms, as it's the only way I can get close to what I need. I often end up still feeling like im in charge and having to teach someone to be a Dom.    The cocky challenge to not bore me wasn't needed here. I shrieked and rose up on my toes at the HARD initial strike. Before I even had time to process the pain, you were in front of me and grasping my face in your hand, fingers and thumb digging into my cheeks and forcing me to look up at you.   "I'm going to whip you until you cry, and then I'm going to keep whipping you until you can't hold yourself up anymore and are begging me.."   While you were talking, you forced two fingers into my mouth while holding my face still, clearly making a point. You pushed them in until I gagged and held them there while I tried to keep from dry heaving   "Pleading with me to breed you like a desperate bitch in heat..."  

Hot Ash ( My Thoughts ) ...  Sir Hugo Atlanta   ... "Hot Ash" is the worship and adoration of CIGARS.Its not your typical submissive fetish.I started smoking cigars when I was 13 or14 and was living in Isle Verde, Puerto Rico.I was in Old San Juan walking the quaint cobblestone streets, when I passesd a small store, with two men in the very back, the walls stacked with wooden "trays" that held pre-formed cigars prior to getting the wrapper, and band.I watched for a good while admiring their craft of hand rolling cigars. I bought a dozen or so freshly rolled cigars and lite up in the shop. The cigar was mild and had the flavor of hickory nuts, earthy.I was a young dom when I met my first "human ash tray". This was in the early 80's.This submissive girl was obsessed with "ash". She loved if I flicked the white/gray cigar ash into her cupped hands, or if I flicked it into her mouth, or even if I flicked it at her.When I blew out smoke she would take in a deep breath. I would also take the tip of my cigar and singe pubic hair leaving a burnt smell in the air. Just the act of blowing smoke into her eyes and face aroused her.The cigar made a fun probe giving the cigar a TASTE of female sex in my mouth, and the smell of female Pheromones right to my nose!!!That's really about it for HotAsh I also love having a relaxing blow-job while sitting back puffing my Artuero Fuentes 8-5-8 Claro/Candella or smoking a Monticristo #5 while having my feet rubbed and my toes sucked, as I stroke my cock looking at my ashtray."Hot Ash"Sir Hugo (Atlanta, GA)

my latest fantasy:  You are going to subject me to a CFnm party. i meet You at a hotel party.  i have two choices. A) i can remove my clothes and You can escort me the the party space, or B) You can bring me to the room and my clothes will be ripped off of me. i chose to remove my clothes, leaving them behind, and now totally helpless.  We get to the other room and as the door opens i hear the voices of the Women waiting for me. i see Your friends standing there, but then i am horrified that i see some Women that i know. Some are Friends of mine. They have never seen me this way before and now i can not escape. You announce to the room that there is only one rule, there are no rules. i must remain naked the entire time, and the Women will never show anything that could not be shown in public. One of the Women i secretly have a crush on. She walks over to me, looking me up and down, smiling. She said she says, "I know you like me, and you are never going to get the courage to ask Me out. So I have to take things into My own hand, literally, She statrs to stroke me and pulls me into Her chest, and laughs. “That is as close as you will ever get to Me!” i am pinched, spanked, and passed back and forth between Your Guests. i am embarrassed by my Friends seeing me naked but i have way of leaving. i beg my Friends to help me, but no one comes to my aid. At the end of the party all of the Guests leave me. my body still aching in pain, but my body still crying out not to be left alone.

Time to play.  To some, to do what I go through during a public scene looks easy.  Being suspended and whipped is panful and it took me a long time to perfect this fantasy of mine.  If one tiny detail is off, it can ruin the whole experience.  My goal is always to suffer as much pain as I can for a long as I can for the mutual benefit of my torturer.  So it looks easy because I spent a lot of time practicing it.  Those of you who do public play can probably relate to this.  Sometimes the smallest thing such as a dog barking in the background or one bond is too tight or too loose can screw things up and poof, you’re no longer in the right head space and it ruins everything.  One example of this is when I was tied face to face with another girl and we’re about to get flogged.  On paper, this should have been a hot scene but I took a whiff of her breath and it was nasty. I’m surprised she didn’t catch my reaction but I didn’t tell her why I stopped the scene short.  I made some excuse and it ended.  Next time, have some breath mints handy.  For this night, I wanted to put on a show.  I arrived at the dungeon a bit early, knowing that the attendees of the convention would be arriving any minute now.  I head straight to the suspension station to claim it in case someone else beat me to it.  I place the toy bags on a large credenza nearby and started to feel excited about what was going to happen to me.  The suspension station was all the way in the back of the dungeon and I was already seeing small groups of people milling in.  I purposely took my time to set things up.  I was getting into my head space.    

My parents have accidentally almost killed my dog. Twice.  I had a small surgery yesterday and they are here to "help." Twice now they have put their stash of daily old people pills in places easily accessible to the puppy and the bags ended up in her mouth. Last night she chewed a hole in the bag and for sure ate a fish oil pill. It's questionable as to if she ate a piece of a beta blocker. Luckily I caught her before she could gobble up any others, and she seems to be alright. Holy shit though, that was close. The closing conversation went something like this: Me: Can you keep the bags on the counter where she can't reach them? Parent: I'll keep them in my pocket. Me: Can you keep them on the counter since we know she can't reach them? Parent: I'll keep them in my pocket. Me: Can you keep them on the counter?  Parent: Yes.  Me: *trying to keep my cool, not kick my parents out of my house early, monitoring my dog for signs of beta blocker consumption, oh, and fucking staying awake since I just took pain medicine* Some of us are not going to make it through the week if I don't stay hyper fucking vigilant. At this point in my life I'm okay with becoming an orphan if necessary.

Let’s stop pretending this is rare. Predators exist in the kink community for the same reason they exist anywhere power and vulnerability intersect. Because some people see trust and think “opportunity.” And before someone gets defensive, let’s clear something up: Predators are not always the creepy outsider everyone avoids. Sometimes they’re the respected Dom. Sometimes they’re the “experienced” submissive. Sometimes they’re the educator, the mentor, the person who has “been around forever.” Predatory behavior isn’t defined by gender, role, or years in the lifestyle. It’s defined by how someone behaves when they think nobody will challenge them. And the easiest people to target? Newcomers. Because new people want to learn. They want to belong. They assume experienced people know what they’re doing. Predators know that. So the playbook starts. First comes the love bombing. “You’re special.” “You have real submissive energy.” “I normally don’t take beginners but you’re different.” Then comes skipping negotiation. Suddenly limits, safewords, and risk discussion are treated like unnecessary formalities. “Real submissives don’t need to negotiate everything.” Right. Because negotiation creates accountability, and predators hate accountability. Then comes isolation. “People here won’t understand our dynamic.” “Don’t talk to others about what we do.” Isolation removes witnesses. And predators hate witnesses almost as much as they hate boundaries. Then comes the real classic: gaslighting. When someone says a line was crossed, the predator rewrites reality. “You agreed to that.” “You asked for it.” “You’re just struggling with submission.” No. That’s manipulation. And let’s address one of the biggest lies predators love telling: “A real submissive wouldn’t question their Dom.” Bullshit. Submission is consensual power exchange, not a psychological hostage situation. Anyone telling you that you lose the right to object once you’re “submissive enough” is waving a red flag so big it should blot out the sun. And then there’s the final shield predators love hiding behind: Reputation. “They’ve been around forever.” “They’ve done so much for the community.” Cool. None of that makes someone incapable of being a manipulative asshole. Communities that protect reputations more than people create the exact environment predators thrive in. So here’s the part newcomers need to hear clearly: You can ask questions. You can say no. You can stop a scene immediately. No dynamic removes that right. No title overrides consent. No one owns your autonomy. And anyone who tries to convince you otherwise isn’t demonstrating dominance. They’re demonstrating exactly why predators love environments where people are too polite to call them out. Predators don’t survive because they’re clever. They survive because communities stay quiet. Stop doing that.

I write these for a reason, ya know. Pages and pages of "this is who I am" and "this is shit you should avoid when approaching a Domme and "this is how to best approach any Domme, and this specifically is how to approach me." And STILL, I get emails like this last one - To paraphrase   'Hey, random Domme in X city,  I'm gonna be in your town and am looking for a one night stand. Here's a half dozen pics of me naked so you can see my DICK, because I didn't give a shit enough to make any effort to find out who you are before I sent you this copy paste bullshit that I sent every Domme in your city with one short line to suggest I read your profile.' W. T. F. And we aint talking 'bout some hard body Jason Mamoa lookin dude. We are talking below average at best, saggy and squishy, just like a million other dudes. But he felt it was somehow SUPER important that I would wanna see it. Especially his erection. Cause LAWD knows, a man got nuthin else to show a woman, am I right? Maybe he actually made a little bit of effort and looked at the pics of my sweetie and thought 'hey, she likes soft squishy guys!' But I really doubt it. Effort would have led him to see my views on dick pics, etc. And he loaded me up with those.  Ahh well. Back to working on the window, and then the costume order, and then maybe some lunch.  Just needed to express my WTELF??????

"I realize that like many Dommes, you are compelled to find fault with anyone requesting your attention. ... I know I am of value, considerable value in many ways, and I will continue my search." Guys, this is call GASLIGHTING. It is also called "pathologizing." I called him out on something simple and obvious - namely, the same old 'I read your profile' then asking a question that is clearly answered in said profile, showing no, he didn't actually read it, but lied about reading it to curry favor- and instead of admitting it, he tried to turn it around and turn it into some character flaw that I brought it up.  Something must be WRONG with *me* if I saw a problem, rather than there being an actual problem with something he did. Furthermore, apparently MANY Dommes have this inherent character problem, which of course lets him off the hook when he does this to them, as well. This tells me that he does it a lot, and always twists things around to get out of having to own his behavior and take responsibility for fixing it. Which is why I blocked him - because he's already told me in two short emails that he's lazy, will lie about being lazy, and then pull toxic manipulative crap to try to cover it up. Furthermore, he tried to pull a straw man fallacy argument - *I* never mentioned value. I mentioned HONESTY.  He brought up his value, as if I had cast doubt on that, rather than simply pointing out that he was asking something that was answered in the profile he claimed to have read. He tried to make the discussion about something else, so he could argue against THAT, instead of the actual discussion where he was already proven wrong. Another manipulative tactic. This is not submission. This is the screaming red flag of a weak, insecure man who got caught being lazy and dishonest. This is the signature mark of a fake sub.  A strong man would have considered what I said, recognized the mistake, admitted the mistake, and apologized for the mistake.  Real submission would have been to ask how he could make it up to me, and discuss how to improve himself so he didn't do anything like that in the future, even if I chose not to move forward with discussions. Because a truly submissive man who honestly wanted to find a truly Dominant Woman, rather than a woman who was too stupid to see his bullshit and too weak to call him to task if she noticed, THAT man would want to make himself worthy of, and less likely to screw up talking to us. If you can't admit when you are wrong, you can't be corrected, so you can't submit. It's as simple as that.

To the One who commands the storm,   I am but a quiet breath in the dark — a lamb once lost, now kneeling, waiting, trained in stillness, shaped in fire, taught to serve not just with hands… but with heart.   Four years ago, the path found me. Led first by leash, then by longing. I have tasted both the light of loving discipline and the dark ecstasy of surrender without question. Pain, I learned, is not punishment — but the key that unlocks the soul. Submission, not weakness — but devotion in its purest form.   Now unclaimed, I wander in soft silence, a collar-shaped echo around my neck, longing for guidance, for purpose, for the gaze that sees, commands, and owns.   Should You find use for me — to kneel, to serve, to obey — I offer not just my body, but all I am, wrapped in reverence, and bound in faith.

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

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==98% Slave95% Submissive89% Rope bunny85% Pet79% Experimentalist77% Masochist72% Brat62% Switch62% Degradee62% Non-monogamist45% Primal (Prey)40% Rigger30% Vanilla27% Voyeur19% Dominant10% Owner10% Degrader8% Primal (Hunter)8% Exhibitionist8% Sadist

Swim in the ocean, the sea of life, Bring me a masochist whose suffering eases my strife, Take the pain I give again on repeat, Bow to My will and massage my feet. Open the chapters of your mind and show me all, Melt to my wishes rise to my command not fall. How brave are you with your body to give my need? How will surrender to my sadistic Tiger to feed? Feed My Tiger How I tell you to give, Be water and mould like holes through a sieve. Melt into what I need you to be, simp and gracious addicted to me.

So glad to finally be back. I have attempted to make an account and it wouldn't allow for it. I miss the CM days with the chat feature...I am finding it quite interesting that there are so many users, fellow Kinksters still remaining here for so long. Many of the new apps and sites are seemingly full of hook-up seekers. Not genuine Dominants.  If You read this, please note: I am not here for cyber and I am not looking to be collared overnight...this is a process and both parties MUST have needs filled. Thanks For Reading! 

It may have taken nearly two years but the world is back and so am I.   Very excited to meet you!   Let's chat.     

Attitude matters! I will be clear here. If I choose you and you are not fit, healthy and eat healthy per My desires.  I will put you on a strict diet and exercise program.  I don't care what you weighed in high school or your younger years.  That is not what you look like today.  Who you are today,  what you look like today is all I will see, and matters to Me! Strip naked,  take a long look in the mirror from every angle,  take photos of yourself.  Are you proud of your appearance? Or do you need to put in the work? I am on a journey to better fitness and appearance.  If you are not, or have no ambition to, we will not match up. you don't have to be perfect right now, although that is desirable.   What you do need is to be putting in the work and working on the goal of better health,  healthy eating/diet, and becoming physically fit.  Eliminating substances from your consumption that is not healthy.  Watch 'Biggest Looser', maybe it will inspire you. Its free to watch on freevee app  

Those striking blue eyes gazed up at me, filled with worry. I had just finished an in-depth discussion about one of my business endeavors with her sister, who had offered her insights. As soon as "puppy" left the room, this one rushed in, knelt at my feet, and wrapped her arms around one of my legs. Both of these girls are my property, collared and devoted. One calls me Master, and the one looking at me with such concern calls me Daddy."Daddy," she started, her voice trembling slightly, "you always talk to puppy about work and projaspects, but never to me..."I knew what she was getting at. This wasn't about changing my behavior, but about reassuring her of her value and role."Well, sweetheart," I replied, choosing my words with care, "do you think you'd understand what I was talking about if I included you in these discussions?"She paused, then nodded slowly. "I think I would, Daddy. I mean, I'd try!"I smiled gently. "Little princess, you could try as hard as you want, but you wouldn't be fulfilled by it. You're comparing yourself to your sister, and that's not fair to either of you."Einstein had a quote that fit this situation perfectly:"Everyone is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing that it is stupid."She wasn't particularly intellectually inclined, and that was okay. Her role in my life wasn't about deep conversations or business strategies. She was my companion, a soft and warm presence for cuddling or holding hands. She was my background noise, chatting about coloring, makeup, and other girly topics while I listened with a smile. She was there to please me, happily using her body to relieve my stresses and desires. But business wasn't her forte, and I wasn't about to force her into something she wasn't suited for.Some might say I'm limiting her by encouraging her to stay in her lane, but let me give you another example.I'm fascinated by astronomy. The planets, stars, and moons, the chaos and order of it all. I enjoy listening to Neil deGrasse Tyson talk about gravity and watching old Carl Sagan videos. But that's where my interest ends. I wouldn't be happy trying to comprehend the deeper complexities of space. I'm content running my businesses and enjoying my harem. That's enough for me.Reassured, the little one returned to her chatter, nuzzling and kissing me softly. She didn't need to understand the intricacies of my work; she just needed to be the little girl she always wanted to be. Soft, warm, cuddly, and secure in her place.Everyone is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will spend its whole life believing that it is stupid.

The Ocean Does Not Apologize for Its Depth   There are women who dominate and there are women who *are* dominance, the way the ocean is not something that contains water but is the water, is the depth, is the pressure and the pull and the ancient, indifferent power of something that existed long before you arrived on its shore and will exist long after you have gone. I am the second kind. This is not a role I step into. It is what I am made of, down to the cellular level, the way the ocean is made of salt and motion and the kind of patience that only belongs to things that have never once needed to hurry. You come to the shore of me with everything you are. I want you to understand what that means before you take another step. The ocean does not meet you halfway. It does not soften its edges to make the entry more comfortable. It simply is what it is, in its entirety, at full depth and full force, and what happens to you when you enter it is entirely dependent on your willingness to stop fighting the current and let the water do what water does. The people who struggle against the ocean are the ones it takes. The ones who surrender to it, who release the desperate grip of their own buoyancy and let the water take the weight, those are the ones who discover that it will hold them. That the very thing that felt like it would consume them is also, in its way, the most complete support they have ever known. This is the theology of your surrender. Not the performance of it. The real thing. I want you empty. Genuinely, completely empty, cleared of every opinion about yourself that you arrived with, every defense you have constructed across a lifetime of needing to protect something, every carefully managed presentation of who you are and what you can handle and how much you are willing to give. I want the vessel clean. Because I intend to fill it, every part of it, with something it has never held before, and there is no room for what I am bringing if you are still crowded with what you came with. Walt Whitman wrote that he contained multitudes. You, in this context, will contain precisely one thing: me. My will, my presence, my pleasure, my standard, my voice in the place where your own voice used to be the loudest thing in the room. This is not diminishment. This is the most complete thing I know how to offer another person. To be so thoroughly known and so thoroughly claimed that the boundary between your purpose and my desire becomes academic, becomes irrelevant, becomes a line so worn from crossing that it simply ceases to exist. The ocean fills every space available to it. Every crack in the rock, every hollow in the sand, every place that offers itself and every place that does not, eventually. It does not ask permission of the shoreline. It simply arrives, and it arrives completely, and it keeps arriving, tide after tide, with the patient certainty of something that has never once doubted its own nature or its own direction. That is what my dominance feels like from the inside. The certainty of water finding its level. Matthew Arnold stood on Dover Beach and heard the ocean's roar as the sound of a world that offers neither joy nor love nor light nor certitude nor peace, only the eternal note of sadness underneath everything human. But I hear it differently. I hear it as the sound of something that does not negotiate. Something that has been devouring shorelines since before language existed to describe the loss, that takes the rock and the sand and the carefully constructed walls of human certainty and makes them, over time, into nothing but new shapes of itself. The ocean does not mourn what it consumes. It simply continues. This is the quality of my dominance that I most want you to sit with: not the drama of it but the continuity. The patient, absolute, unstoppable continuation of a nature that was never going to be anything other than what it is. Give me everything. Not the generous portion. Not the carefully considered offering of the parts of yourself you have decided you can afford to lose. Everything. The parts you are proud of and the parts you are ashamed of and the parts you have never shown anyone because you were not certain they could be trusted with them. Bring all of it to the water. Let it go. Watch what I do with it. Because here is what the ocean knows that the shore does not: the surrender is the point. The emptying is not the loss. It is the preparation. The space you clear when you release everything you have been holding is exactly the space I intend to inhabit, and what I bring to fill it is larger and stranger and more sustaining than anything you were protecting by keeping yourself so carefully full of yourself. You were not built to be your own container. You were built to be mine. Kneel at the water's edge. Feel the pull of it. That pull is not danger. That pull is recognition.   I release what I was before this shore. I bring myself empty and offer that emptiness as gift. I am the hollow that her presence fills. I do not end where she begins. I am most myself when I am most completely hers. The ocean does not ask permission. Neither does she. I am grateful for both.   Go under.   She will bring you back. She always does.

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

November 16, 2023 - Horny Bi Guy's FIRST VISIT PART ONE A new guy stopped by today. He is a horny bi Guy from a town about an hour or so away from me. He is definitely a HORNY Bi GUY ! He is already asking for another visit. We had talked a while on FETLIFE about his fantasies, so he knew what to expect today. Plus he had been reading my stories, THESE stories, which all seemed to excited him. I knew he was into leather, so had a treat for him. When he arrived he found me in a very long terry cloth bathrobe. I probably looked like a monk. But I had a surprise hidden under the bathrobe, but he was not going to get to see it YET. I met him in the driveway since it was his first visit and brought him inside. Within a few seconds I was ordering him to strip… which he complied to immediately. I put velcro wrist restraints on him and told him to kneel. Once he was kneeling on the floor in front of me, I put a leather hood over his head, making certain his mouth appeared in the opening. I knew my cock would be going through that hole very shortly.   read the next part at www.SirKel.top

Consent (a poem from one of my slaves) Tell me what you want.  Tell me it all. Speak your truth And I promise I will listen  With kindness in my heart. Your desires are yours and I am touched by your trust. You are safe to share all this with me. Ask me. My answer will be given with care. Expect nothing of me, except my honesty. Accept my honesty. I will ask the same of you. I said no to the one who had all the right answers I said no to the one who demanded my attention  I said no to the one who invaded my personal space I said no to the one who said I was gorgeous and expected me to be grateful I said no to the one I said yes to last week I said no to the one who grabbed my hand I said no to the one who was ambiguous and shifty I said no to the one who stole a kiss I said no to the one who got me drunk I said no to the one who bought me dinner I said no to the one who was incredibly good-looking and that’s all I said no to the one who told me things I already knew I said no to the one who touched my knee without asking I said no to the one who didn’t listen I said no to the one who said I was the one I said no to the one who thought I was their missing piece I said no to the one who just assumed I said no to the one who I just didn’t really like I said no to the one who got angry I said no to the one who pinched my arse I said no to the one who was lying to their lover I said no to the one who sent me a picture I didn’t ask for I said no to the one who was pompous I said no to the one who wanted me all to them self I said no to the one who didn’t want to take no for an answer I said no to entitlement And so did you. You didn’t move as you spoke, you just looked me in the eyes.  You wanted and you hoped and I could see your truth. And I asked you, “What do you want to do?” “I want to fuck you” you said. “I want to hurt you and enjoy the pain in your eyes” you said. “I want to degrade you and use you and make you my slave” you said. And I gave you my answer.

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

him on 8/17/25 at 10:54 AM: Would you talk to older, retired submissive, man?   him  on 10/10/25 at 2:03 PM: I would love to be captured by you, trained as a slave, and sold into the slave market to a forceful dominant couple   Me on 10/10/25 at 2:07 PM: Thats nice. Id love to have applicants for my submission that were actually writing ME, the human, based on their reading my profile and writings and figuring out our potential c ompatibilities rather than randos who copy and paste messages to every pretty picture.   him on 10/10/25 at 2:09 PM: Im sorry maam, but that was direct nothing was copy and pasted. It was just one of my many fantasies to give up control, but that was an actual message not copy and paste.   him on 10/11/25 at 9:01 AM: You are very pretty and very powerful   him on 10/11/25 at 2:39 PM: God, you are beautiful   Me on 10/11/25 at 2:40 PM: Do I strike you as someone who is susceptible to flattery?   him on 10/11/25 at 2:44 PM: I only know that you are very attractive to submissive men   him on 10/11/25 at 2:51 PM: I sincerely apologize if I insulted you him on 2/6/26 at 10:43 AM: Would you be interested in dominating a older, white submissive, male wishing to be trained anyway, that you wish and to be your servant to be used abused, and even loaned out if that’s what you wish   Me on 2/6/26 at 1:28 PM: Here's the problem. You are so focused on what you want, that you have yet to bother to consider what *I* want. You have now written me EIGHT times, yet literally failed to the one one single thing I asked in the first fucking line of my fucking profile, even after I EXPLICITLY stated that's something I require. You know - the thing that tells you who I am, beyond just the "pretty" and "beautiful" picture you seem to obsessed with. You want to be "trained" and "dominated" but you have already shown yourself to be lazy, self-absorbed, and utterly unsuitable for anything I might want to use you for.  

It's been quite a while since James (my husband) left me. The house feels emptier, and there's a silence that I can't seem to fill. I miss his laughter, his warmth, the way his eyes sparkled when he smiled at me. I miss the way he held me, the security and comfort I felt in his arms. I miss him, and it hurts. But more than that, I miss the bond we shared, the profound connection we had through our shared love for BDSM. I miss the way he'd look at me, full of trust and love, right before we began a scene. I miss the anticipation, the rush of adrenaline, the sweet surrender. I miss the feeling of his hands against my soft skin. I miss the way he would reassure me, his words soothing and encouraging, as we explored new sensations and experiences together. It's strange to admit, but I miss being his submissive. It's a part of me, a part of who I am. With James, I discovered a part of my identity that I didn't even know existed. He showed me that submission wasn't about weakness or being less than. It was about trust, surrender, and a mutual exchange of power. It was about feeling loved, cherished, and cared for. That's why I've decided to look for a new Dom or perhaps a couple. I need to fill that void in my life, to rediscover the part of me that came alive with James. I want to feel that connection again, to explore and to learn. I want to experience the thrill of a new dynamic, the excitement of setting boundaries and pushing limits. I understand that no one can replace James, and I am not looking for that. I am looking for someone, or someones, who will understand, respect, and cherish me for who I am, a woman who loves and misses the BDSM lifestyle. I am hoping to find individuals who value communication, consent, and safety as much as I do. My feelings are raw, my emotions a whirlwind. But amidst the chaos, there's also a glimmer of hope, a spark of excitement. It's not going to be easy, and I know that. But I also know that I'm strong, resilient, and capable. After all, that's what James taught me. That's what he loved about me.

 bitchbottom