It's been a while... hello all! Happy New Year. For those that send sweet message, thank you.  I noticed my profile doesn't talk about what I'm looking for due to that whole profile approval crap they were doing a few years ago. I am a DL first & foremost. I love wearing. I do use them. More wet then messy. I am in a LTR, it's very vanilla. He knows that I wear but doesn't know the extent of it. I've been wearing for years, our relationship is weird, some days I'm happy, most days I'm not. It's just been a long time & it's just hard to get up & go, specially without support.  I would love to eventually find someone that can be my daddy dom who accepts diapers & would want me as his diapered slave. I wear as often as I can, but I am not able to be 247. So if anyone on this site is still out there looking for his baby girl, feel free to msg me, let's see where it goes.  PS- I've been doing long enough- if you reach out & you're asking pervy questions, just a Hello, or I've seen you reach out before & it's the same copy paste as before- you're not getting a response from me. Happy 2026 all!  PS- Be Kind. We may not all agree on the same kinks, but we're all here looking for something different than the rest of the vanillas. We're all weird in our own ways. 

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...  

Any MALE OR FEMALE who wants to contact Me about a submissive male  servant or dominant male whom they met online, and wonder if they are a MONUMENTAL GAME PLAYER, is free to contact Me.  Once verified , I will gladly share the information I have and possibly save you valuable time and energy. Well, well, well... A very deep and sometimes disturbing subject indeed! I've had the need to take some time off.  I've been duped and while it is hard to admit that a woman of My age and intellect has been bamboozeled, I'm comforted knowing that this type of thing happens to many of us, most especially when we are vulnerable due to life circumstances or state of mind and that I shall be wiser for the game played.   While undertaking the supreme challenge of finding a right sub for Myself, I happened upon the GREATEST ONLINE MINDFUCKER that ever was and I discovered he has been playing around here and Fet for over 14 plus years and at least 31 profiles on CollarSpace to date!!! VICTORY!  I finally was able to find them out though I must say I was led on a not-so-merry chase full of intrigue and suspense, aliens, judges, the government, medical organizations and secret societies! LOL  It takes all sorts. After all, I have to laugh at Myself and how vulnerable My state of mind must be to have gone down that rabbit hole. I would not change the knowledge gained through the experience though I am seriously butt sore. NEEDLESS TO SAY, ANY DOMINANT SLAVE OR SUB MAN READING THIS WILL PROVE YOURSELF OR PASS ME BY. I have a phone, pictures, telegraph, google chat, skype and every other possible means of communication and verification including but not limited to a car! We chat, we verify, we meet or part.  

Well this is long overdue.  Thank-you to the Domme that reminded me.  My profie is pretty much devoid of meaningful information, and my original intent was to add that here.  Where to start?  Of the things I look for, intelligence and humour are of the utmost importance to me.  Grammar, spelling and punctuation matters, although much is to be forgiven due to this website eats apostrophes and other random punctuation.  Being in Canada, humour is spelt exactly that way.  I may be 62, but I have younger chldren.  My youngest will be 9 shortly and is with me every other week. My eldest is halfway through high-school and is here 100% of the time.  Obviously I therefore cannot relocate for the foreseeable future.  That's enough for the moment.  Good luck to each of you in your quest.

The vow of a slave:   I met her in the shadow’s call, A Mistress strong, unyielding, tall. Bound by fate, though not by choice, A forced path, a silenced voice.   At first, I raged, defied, denied, Met steel with fire, stood in pride. Yet every lash, each measured word, Cut through walls I'd never heard.   Then one night, through softened eyes, I saw her break, I heard her cries. Not steel nor whip, but fragile pain, A soul beneath the cold domain.   I made her laugh, I found the key, A bond unshackled—yet bound was me. Not by chains nor cruel demand, But by the touch of knowing hands.   She spoke of honor, of my name, That my defeat would bring her shame. A slave to her, but not to fear, She made my purpose crystal clear.   No loss allowed, no second place, For I was hers—a pure embrace. With every strike, with every fight, I bore her will, I claimed my right.   And so I swore, through time unkind, She holds my heart, she owns my mind. Not just in flesh, but in my soul, For she had shaped me, made me whole.

How long does it take to inspect a piece of meat? I will start this little entry to My Journal with a quote from My writing about the first meeting with a prospective slave property, “Inspection may take just a few minutes. How long does it take to inspect a piece of meat?” This sentence was intended to address what I hope to find in a slave’s mentality. I want a slave to approach its possible future life as a piece of property as though it were on the auction block. When it is on the block, what ever trauma it experienced in the process of ending up naked on display available to the highest bidder, is not on evidence. Such trauma, or in the case of My inspection, is irrelevant to the ongoing process of slave acquisition. What I care about is the slave’s sacrifice to be exposed to My inspection with hope, but, maybe without expectation that it will become My property. Much like the slave on the auction block, to be viewed and passed by, rejected, by many and bid on by few up to gaining residence with a previously unknown Owner. A word about rejection. (Forgive My digression.) Many slaves that are into humiliation as an element fueling their need to become ‘less than’ have discovered rejection as an incredibly powerful humiliation and, therefore, a delicious element in the humiliation paradigm they inhabit. Others fear even the thought of rejection as the ultimate sanction from a Superior. Rejection bights deep and hurts in a long lasting fashion for many slaves. Some slaves think rejection is the worst form of punishment. The thing is, when I wrote the ‘piece of meat’ comment I did not expect that I would reject a prospective property at one look. The comment was more allegorical of the feeling a slave may have of being exposed on auction than actually running the risk of being immediately rejected. And then it, the piece of meat inspection and rejection, happened. I have inspected many slaves. I have delved into their mouths for teeth and brain for thinking. I use exhaustive questioning at times, but, always with the idea that this particular ‘meat’ would be what I am looking for. But the most recent inspection was different. My first look at the prospect caused Me to utter, “it is an ugly fucker, isn’t it?” Brutal and ‘unfair,’ might be the assessment of a casual observer. However, it was a truth spoken by Me to engender a response from the slave that would tell Me much about its attitude. The response it gave, “yes, Master,” was encouraging to Me. Nevertheless, My desire to own this particular piece of chattel went down hill from that instant on. I had picked it up at the airport. Driving to a restaurant for the initial part of the inspection, I always do the first face to face to face in a public place, I kept glancing at it. Each glance made Me feel more ill at ease. Until, I gave up on the restaurant idea and pulled to the side of the road. Looking it squarely in its eyes, I told it there was no way I want it and that I was taking it back to the airport. Yes, something happened inside of Me. I am not able to describe it other than it was the opposite of ‘love at first sight.’ Yes, it did not take that long to look at a piece of meat and reject it. Yes, I am a sadist. However, I am not sadistic without bounds. I am not attracted to killing or snuff fantasies. Nor, I am interested in severing limbs or causing bodily injury that might require anything but most minimal medical attention. With this ‘piece of meat’ experience I have found a new limit to My sadism. I did not enjoy rejecting it. Actually, I felt a slight tinge of remorse later when thinking about what My behavior. So, it turns out I have psychological bounds as well as physical to My sadism. Any thoughts, even negative, the reader may have on My little incident would be appreciated.    

Winners and losers can often be distinguished by their propensity to take action and their inclination to serve others. Winners are those who recognize opportunities and are willing to step out of their comfort zones to seize them. They understand that success requires effort, resilience, and a proactive attitude. Winners don't shy away from challenges; they face them head-on and learn from their experiences. Moreover, winners often find fulfillment in helping others achieve their goals, knowing that service enriches both their lives and the lives of those they assist. In contrast, losers tend to be more passive, often waiting for the perfect moment or fearing the risks associated with action. They may have great ideas and potential but lack the drive to bring them to fruition. This hesitation and inertia often lead to missed opportunities and regret. Additionally, a lack of willingness to serve others can limit their growth and connection with the broader community. Ultimately, the difference between winners and losers lies in the willingness to act decisively, persistently pursue their goals, and contribute positively to the lives of others.

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

Ethical BDSM, an interesting concept and I enjoy chewing on this a bit. Examples: A supposed vocational slave offers their self.  They present a wild origin story and present day scenario for their enslavement to you.  Later it is determined the so called slave is a liar and a fraud who has shared false information and received only truth from you. Now imagine this slave was infact already enslaved, no way out, a prisoner for all intents and purposes to another.  The slave is given leave by their Mistress to 'play' on Collar as a means of entertainment and or even as a cruelty or punishment.  The Mistress can read and or respond to any email from you she chooses or she may not.  However, she does read and lead her slave deeper into the deception.  The slave has been instructed to not expose his Mistress. Is the slave responsible for being a liar and fraud? The slave is to obey, afterall. What does this say about the Mistress?  She is well within her rights to have her slave behave as she desires, yet what she asks her slave to do is an affront to another, it V I O L A T E S.  She has directed a deception. Is this ethical behavior on her part? Does anyone care?  *** Take Masters who train a slave out of being able to act on self preservation.  Lets say they want to test this and they command the slave lay out their arm to be run over with their car.  The slave obeys, bones are broken and the slave has no further feeling in that side.  It is within their right to do so, yet what could possibly be the reasoning behind such an act?  What is ethical about training a slave to do something which causes harm to their self or another? I've come across the notion of supremicists within this realm, on opposing sides of the tracks, who justify dismantling another human being in an effort to degrade them beyond all else. Training a slave to submit to all manner of what can only be considered to be torture.  Perhaps they believe one human is less human than another.  Perhaps they have some demons of their own to work through. Or perhaps they are uneducated or scaredy cats or they themselves brainwashed with outdated beliefs since birth. Is this ethical behavior and do we really care, as a group, society or a people?  Some of this sounds like corrupted power to Me, yet who am I to judge? " Oh what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive." Just because we can do something, does that mean we are not accountable for doing it?  Such fine lines we dance between in the theatre of our likes and loves.  Of course, ultimately it is up to those involved to determine what is right and wrong, for the course.  The same can be said for any of life's avenues.  Humans have the right to do unto another if permitted.  Humans have the right to allow another to do unto them. Does this also mean one human or a group of humans have the right to violate another? To decieve or to manipulate or to mutilate and how does one determine where the line in the sand is drawn or even is there sand? Where do ethics come into play or do they?  Surely we see every day, examples of our global society grappling with the concept of ethics in everything we do. By permitting 'each to his or her own' are we not in essence saying, "I don't want you to tell Me what to do so I wont tell you what to do?"  I wonder how this makes us better, or if it even matters.  Perhaps we are too wounded or too neglected, too needful or too out of control to embrace andor be embraced by ideas of greatness.  Perhaps the final frontier is indeed paying attention to our mental health. I believe the difference between a slave and a submissive is in the consent.  I believe in consensual slavery and that a Master/Owner has the final say.  I also believe in emotional intelligence and in ethics. I'm not sure emotional intelligence or ethics really matter in the grand scheme of things, yet they matter to Me and as with all things, in degree. What if the determining factor for whether good or not good prevails in the world is held in the balance of the scales of how many people believe in good and how many believe in not good? How many practice good and how many practice greed, deception, intolerance, bullying? Imagine if what you believe, is what will happen.   

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

May 16, 2023 - Sextoy69 got a HARD throat fucking today !It's been awhile since he has stopped by. And last time he came by it was unannounced and I was in my bathroom. He said it was hot that all I had on was the bathrobe.So this time, knowing he was going to arrive, I dressed all in leather. A leather jockstrap, a leather harness, a leather vest, a leather Sir cap.I told him to come on in when he gets here but instead I surprised him by meeting him in the garage dressed like I've described.His face lit up as soon as he walked into the garage and could see me. I told him, "I thought I would dress up a bit today for you."He said, that looks great.We headed upstairs and he started to lay down on the bed on his back. Normally I just climb on top of him and start throat fucking him right away. This time I had other ideas.I told him to get on all fours with his head down on the mattress and his ass in the air. I lubed up a finger and started playing with the outside of his ass. His dick started to get hard so I reached between his legs and started playing with it. Eventually I slipped my finger in his ass and found his prostate gland and started pushing on it. I felt his cock bounce in my other hand.I continued playing with his ass with one finger until I felt him starting to loosen up. Eventually I put a second finger in with a bit of extra lube. I stopped playing with his cock and concentrated on his ass for a while. I rotated my two fingers around stretching his hole open. His chest collapsed even more onto the bed as he pushed his ass higher into the air.I reached between his legs again and started playing with his hard cock. There was pre-cum dripping out. I pulled my fingers out of his ass, and collected some of the pre-cum on those fingers and shoved my fingers and his pre come back into his ass.As I played with his cock his ass tightened around my fingers. This only made it even more fun to spend my fingers around and listen to him moan. Occasionally after playing with his cock for a while my fingers were sticky with his precum so I started playing with my own cock using his pre-cum. I knew eventually he'd be sucking my dick which would mean he would be sucking his own pre-cum off my cock.Although we've been playing for a while I've only fucked him once before. And he didn't really like the experience, although he loves sucking and choking on my cock. As I was playing with his ass, and playing with my own cock using his precum, I wanted to fuck him so bad. But, we hadn't discussed it so I kind of put it out of my mind and just kept playing.I eventually got a third finger into his tight ass using even more lube. Then I reached back behind me to the table and got a large rubber dildo. It's narrower at the tip and grows wider as more and more gets pushed in. With very little effort, it started to slide in his ass. I pulled it out and shoved it back in, fucking him with it. Fucking him with it the way I wanted my cock to fuck him.I pushed a little deeper, and then pulled it all the way out again. Added a little lube and pushed it in to the same depth again. Still playing with my own cock, I would occasionally play with his cock to get more precum on my hand to lubricate my cock. He was pushing his ass higher and higher into the air, but at the same time spreading his legs so I could continue to play with this cock.The toy was now pushed in his ass far enough that it was equivalent to the three fingers I had in him just moments ago. So I pushed a little further, a little harder, and more of the toy slipped up his ass. His hole was now quite stretched. He was making wonderful grunting noises as I fucked him with it.   View the rest of tHe story at http://www.SirKel.top

Our second date. You call to make sure your demands are to be met. She is freshly showered with the smell of perfume, sensual lingeriie covering her laser shaven pussy. Nails painted, hair done and her glistening anal pluginserted. No other clothes are allowed for this meeting. He has had his orders, shorts but no shirt, no socks, and hairless from the waist down with a touch of aftershave. His cock strainingnagainst the cool steel of his cage. both of them are giddy with excitement, nervous too about the meeting and what may happen. On our first meeting you were strict and controlling, your inspection of us humiliating, your cane was thin and hard and sometimes overpowering. in the pub where we met you had told her to remove the g string and put it on the table, another older man next to our table had seen this and he couldn't keep his gaze away, desperately wanting to be in on it. He could overhear your questions to us, our shame in telling you we needed you and the damage and enhancement to our lives you could bring. As we left the pub on our own you followed a few minutes later, your new friend in tow. We pointed to our car and you sat in the back of the car with the wife and this man, quickly she became naked hands on her body and I watching from the front. Her breathes became shallower unti she orgasmed fingers in her pussy. her hands full of cock, only after your balls were drained did he leave us and you followed our car home. Our first test com0lete you said

Maintenance Beating There has been an on going discussion about maintenance beating.  Generally, I adhere to the idea of that in order to keep the slave's mind right. Of course, regular maintenance beatings are seperate and apart from punishements that may have been earned by the slave. Certainly, when intially entering My service daily maintenance beatings are necessary to promote acculturation.  Service to Me requires a greatly reduced ego in the slave.  That energy that was once selfe centered in the slave must be redirected to My benefit. Thing is, the slave that I desire wants exactly the same thing.  However, not infrequently its social adjustments have included messages about itself that contradict its inborn nature and it lives in conflict.  To the degree that conflict is resolved to that degree it finds peace and fullfilment. There is the issue of pain sluts.  These masochists crave punishment.  With this type I do have alternate means of ego right sizing. On an ongoing basis maintenance beatings will most likely be the rule in My house.  The frequency and intensity of the beating will be tailored to My desires, not the slaves.

How many of us find the treasure we've sought for so long?  How many of us give up and just accept what is in front of us?  How many of us are truly sincere and willing to kiss a few frogs  while trying to find our kinky slave or the pearl.   Someone suggested I should put up a picture and that My feed would blow up.  That's not what I want.  Let's be real, the one or two or three I want may not be here, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Lol I'm sure there is a more up to date analogy.   Yet we persevere hopeful for a meaningful connection.  They are few and far between, but on ocassion we meet someone, strike up a conversation and even a friendship.   Where is the boy you want to beat when frustration is high?  Where is the slave You want to kneel and do whatever You  command? Where is the man you want to rub Your back and have a meaningful conversation with? it's a dichotomy, can you find both in the same individual or do You have a stable of eager boys ready to serve? Time to find what's right for Me!  The search continues.  Goddess

I am tired of let people in....  I feell stupid for trusting.  I'm tired of finally letting my walls down, opening up and to someone who has such a special and major important role in my life.. only to be discarded at the slightest change of mood.  People just don't care what it does to a person.  My feelings.. matter.. I am who I say I am.. Some people want to just form a judgment and assumption of me unfairly and to disregard my truth because they find some created idea in their mind to be more legitimate.  So they pick manufactured fiction formed by their imagination... over the facts and truth from the source.. yeah.. that makes a whole lot of sense huh..   I think I need to learn that if someone wants to believe the worst about me, then they were looking for an excuse.  I just want to say these men who message me deep and all acting like they care for me or my well being and like they have my back and talk to me every day and block me over nothing??  Please do not put me through this and play games with me.. Please.  I have been through enough and you have no care for the emotional hell and self loathing and mind fuckery you leave me to stew in..  My mental health matters and there is no need to lead me on and let me drop.  I need to keep putting myself out there to find the right one for me, but the fallout from the disbelief and hurt and confusion.. It makes me feel an absolute fool for believing someone who seemed genuine with a real interest in me..  That's a mind fuck.  My psyche cannot keep taking this kind of unfair and immature mistreatment.     Please... I just want someone real, for once.  Not put on or an act or manipulation.  Just be real.  

I seek a Gentleman Being a Gentleman: Today, being a gentleman is a matter of choice. It is a title you earn through an unwavering commitment to invest in your character. It is not about perfection, but a constantly renewed pursuit of excellence.  Gentlemen are not stiff, pretentious, or focused on elevating themselves. Instead, they strive to succeed while helping those around them succeed as well.  Being a gentleman means that you care about how your choices impact others. It is about human connection. At a recent professional event, I was introduced to a man who dressed impeccably and had been working the room like a pro. His handshake was appropriate, and our initial conversation was pleasant, but he quickly became boastful, stopped listening, and seemed unaware of the people around him. Before my eyes, he transformed from a gentleman into a banty rooster—all puff and little substance. Sadly, he was unable to connect in a meaningful way. Our world is in desperate need of more gentlemen. Those who choose to pick up this torch are not only performing a noble feat, but they also reap incredible rewards. The qualities of a gentleman never go out-of-style and pay huge dividends. Qualities of a gentleman:     Generous A gentleman is generous with his time, wisdom, and resources. He looks for ways to help others. He is a servant leader, and his commitment to interpersonal kindness creates a positive culture that boosts commitment, engagement, and performance.     Positive A gentleman chooses to be positive. His positivity is contagious, and his consistent encouragement draws others to him. He practices gratitude, which research shows lowers his blood pressure, improves immune function, reduces stress hormones, and facilitates better sleep.     Lifelong Learner A gentleman maintains a teachable posture and actively seeks new challenges. His intellectual curiosity propels him to constantly better himself and his craft through reading, coaching, ongoing education, and time spent with mentors. He turns off the T.V. and silences his phone to make time for this investment. He is emotionally mature, mentally sharp, informed, and not ashamed to ask for help.     Civil A gentleman embraces civility by valuing all people and treating everyone with respect. From the janitor to the CEO, he carefully considers how his behavior and words impact others. He treats females and males with the same respect.      Well-Mannered A gentleman is well-mannered, and can effortlessly navigate social and professional settings with confidence and proficiency. He stays abreast of current etiquette guidelines, and uses social acumen to navigate shifting norms. As a result, he is as comfortable at a casual gathering with friends as he is in the boardroom. He returns his shopping cart, says “please” and “thank you,” holds doors open for others, tips generously, and smiles often.     Hard & Smart Worker A gentleman possesses a strong work ethic.  He takes great pride in his work and strives to give his very best every day. He is reliable, dedicated, self-disciplined, humble, and a team player. He leads and is led well. People want him on their team.     Sharp Appearance A gentleman understands the power of his appearance—that the way he chooses to dress, groom, and carry himself is either a bridge or a barrier to his success because what people see, is what they expect. He takes no days off from excellence, and his consistently sharp appearance demonstrates respect for himself and his environment, wherever he may be. He conducts an annual image audit to ensure that his appearance is up-to-date and supports his goals.     Effective Communicator A gentleman is well-spoken and a focused listener. He demonstrates conversational competence and leaves others feeling inspired, engaged, and understood. He manages his tone and body language to maximize connection. He knows that hearing is a passive physical process, but listening is an active mental process that requires work. As a result, he strives to really listen to what people have to say while also effectively communicating his point of view.     Confident A gentleman is confident in that he knows the value of what he brings to the table. He seeks competence, not perfection. His body language and commanding personal presence identify him as a leader. He stands upright, walks with purpose, avoids hiding his hands in his pockets, and extends a firm handshake.     Person of Integrity A gentleman does the right thing even when no one is watching. He is a man of his word, and is not swayed by peer pressure or popular opinion. The man he is at work is the same person you will encounter in the community and at his home. Ask yourself: How do you want to be remembered?

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

Where do pirates get their hooks? A second hand store.    Thank you for taking the time to read my profile. I’m looking for someone who naturally has a happy personality and only wants to make others around them happy also. She needs to be drug and tobacco free with only an occasional drink.  What do you call cheese that’s not yours?  Nacho cheese.    I would like to find that type of feeling like when we were in high school and we have that super crush on each other. I do everything to avoid conflict. I don’t argue or fight, if you want a masochist I’m not for you. Trust and respectful communication are important. I am not a social bug so my friend circle is small.  I have 2 kittens but love most pets. I’m not looking for perfection I’m looking for happiness and someone who has the suction of a shop vac. 

It has been brought to my attention that Desire, my previous journal entry, was cut off midway through. So below I will post the rest of it. Desire part 2  What COULD he do? Bound as he was, I had not ever tested if he could crawl. I climbed down from the bed and tiptoed out of the room and walked back in as if I was returning from elsewhere. He jerked in the direction of my sounds, bells tinkling on my anklet, I noisily gathered a chain leash and walked to his helpless body and attached it to the ring on the collar of his special hood. "Come, puppy." I called in my sing song voice, the very one I use for my cats. "Come on, my handsome boy." He made a muffled noise and tried to orient his body to follow. Trying to rise up on his elbows and knees. I knelt down and gently petted his right cheek and could see him inhale and exhale sharply. "Good boy, that's right, come to me, follow, boy. Goood boy, my handsome boy" He tried to orient his body yet again and one of my cats wandered up and meowed, they, too, were used to such talk from me. As he struggled to get to his knees and elbows I tugged the leash impatiently as if irritated and said, "hurry the fuck up". I dragged him some by his neck and funnily enough he got into the position to hobble behind me. I smiled at that, his determination to please me. It was intoxicating. I led him, blind, behind me through the house to the third bedroom, which was my "office". It was under lock and key, in fact, the key for the office happened to also work on the lock of his cage, I had the lock on the door altered to match the key so he could not enter without permission. He knew that in that room he wasn't to speak. There he was a dog. My dog. My faithful puppy. We entered and I gave different commands. Sit, and he got into a kneeling position. Stay. And he would remain. Heel and he'd crawl to me and heel. Obedience. Blind obedience. I sat in my chair opened  the drawer on my desk as he knelt beside my right leg. Opened a book I kept in there and turned to the most recent page. I read through and opened my mouth and said firmly. "Yesterday, my property degraded himself and so degraded me. 25 swats with the cane. Get into position to receive" he groaned but complied as best he could while hobbled. "Remember, we do not move away from the pain, perfect love has perfect trust, be ready to receive. This is your penance. Count each stroke of the cane and be grateful to suffer and try to remember that to harm yourself is to harm Me, to love yourself is to love Me" He barked an affirmative, as the rule of the room was no speaking. The first strike he was still, taking the sting of the thin willowy cane. *bark* By the fifth his behind was quite red with deep lines. His barks were breathy and he swayed. *bark* counted out the tenth stroke. There trickled a pink clear fluid from one of the pretty lines. *bark* his voice was weary even through the hood and he had sweat in beads on his back. This was stroke 20. He trembled visibly and rocked on his knees. I thought I heard a sniffle. I raised the cane and swung but didn't strike him. He tensed and moved forward but not away. His breathing was quick yet shallow. I imagined tears and sweat and saliva in his hood. I raked my nails across his warmed ass, this was primal for me. This reminded me that he wasn't the only beast in the room. I wondered if I were sick, his perfect sadist, was I a monster to be so aroused by the brutality. I leaned down and said to him, lovingly, "there are five more, my love, are you strong enough to endure for me?" He nodded his head quickly and let out a low "bruf" bark. I stepped back, raised my arm and struck him quickly, five times, as hard as I could. I felt the cane cracking and at the last swat it snapped and a piece of the cane flew up and hit me. Startling me I yelped and he tried to get up and attend to me, forgetting his place and forgetting his binding and forgetting to bark five times. I should have written it down that the penance was not complete but was moved by his desire to care for me even when he was broken. "I'm fine. Remember your place" I called out. He stayed quiet for a minute and then nodded and barked five times to complete his punishment. Could I have been more in love with a man? I doubt it. I got down on my knees beside him and caressed his leather bound head and clucked over him. I cleaned his wounds and kissed his face over and over. I stood up and returned my book to my desk and gave another command. "Pleasure" He flopped onto his side and rolled onto his back with his legs opened. The true purpose of how he was bound is that being in a frog tie made it more difficult for him to fuck me. I decided I wouldn't yet unlock him so I sat on him in his cold metal cage with my hot pussy. Enjoying the feeling of him cooling my skin. Knowing that my weight on him was applying pressure to the wounds on his ass. He immediately tried to buck but I placed my right hand on his chest and my left on his neck and pressed down. He grunted and tried again to buck. Jerking his head upward in frustration, precum leaking out of his cage and smearing on his pubic hair and my lips. I began to grind on him, pressing hard on his neck while feeling his heart beat under my palm. Knowing that I was using my weight on his neck. He'd slow down and I'd release him and feel his heart race. The metal cage now warmed and wet from both of us. The blood and air rushing to his brain and lungs. "Would you like to cum, do you want me to unlock you?" I cooed and moaned and he sighed and nodded and gave a short "ruff". I slapped him and laughed. Then I moaned, "No, you haven't earned it" and ground against him in slow circles, feeling his balls draw up tight to his body. I scooted forward and leaned back to fiddle with his cage as I bounced on his chest, listening to the air whoosh out of his lungs. The sparse hairs tickled my clit and I felt I'd explode at any moment. I turned my torso and unlocked him. Now erect and free. "Are you allowed to cum without permission?" I asked breathily?" "Uhn" he grunted shaking his head and bucking his hips. </spa

Vacation!  It's finally here. A time I can relax and enjoy ... And process my future. I'm so damn old and I'm trying to figure out if I should settle. Just call everything off or hell continue just talking the talk but never walking the walk. This is a sufficient approach but every few weeks to months I'm gonna crash out and spiral downward... Ok so maybe not... The alternative is to find at my old, big back age the lifestyle I thought I was gonna live. Actually, the more I think about it my bf was supposed to be that and it gradually grew into this platonic vanilla relationship we have now. But I get to play as much videogames as I like and smoke. So maybe it's a good trade off. 2 activities I refuse to give up. They're my precious hobbies. I dunno. I gave myself 2 weeks to really figure out my life because I feel like I'm at a crossroads: stay or seriously go. I don't mind being alone. Loneliness sucks but that's not a factor for me. .. Ok maybe a very small one. It's not like my bf and I are fucking. That's another reason why to go but also sex isn't... It is... It's very very important but I want bdsm much more than just fucking. I didn't mean porn and I don't mean sessions...I mean lifestyle. I call it sex because it's what my master and I do. But it was more than just sex. It was control, mastery, manipulation, force, molding, and so much more. I can find one night stands and I'm left needing more. So maybe I should settle? Gah! I just don't fucking know.

  Paraphrasing, of course. "Dear beautiful and intelligent Domina, here is a long detailed message outlining why I'm a good candidate to move across country and serve you in all the ways you want despite being 20 years your senior. Let's have a discussion in a live chat so we can get to know each other and see if we are compatible." 20 minutes of conversation that suddenly stops for 9 hours with no warning later- "Well, I don't keep my phone on me all the time. I have stuff to do." Because of course, walking away mid discussion without saying 'hey, I need to go do something' or even having the courtesy of admitting 'hey, I'm not feeling it, but I appreciate your time' would take too much effort.  Age does not always mean wise and being raised in the older generation still doesn't mean they have manners.  This is what you guys are up against - proving you are the pearl in a sea of dregs. 

I choose to walk the path less traveled. And, so far, I've predominantly navigated it in solo territory. In some ways I feel like a lone wolf, but not without having a deep calling to find those energies that lead to freedom. For A/all. As in Hippocratic Oath, my spirit is drawn to "Do no harm". But we all know we do. Sometimes "no pain no gain". People coming to question their own soulful paths are encouraged to inquire. I know that even the most pleasurable acts, like massage, can yield extremely painful experience. Effects lasting up to 2 to 3 days. I am into Somatic movements, that can be a little sensual unveiled by the eye of the beholder. I'm working on practicing with intentional breath and focus on what my body speaks to me. Sometimes that is with acute physical pain these days particularly in my hip. I'm hoping "it'll get worse before it gets better". .... leads me to memories of belly dancing classes. Might be worth another round in this life. Pole dancing was a bust.

He picks his head up, opens his eyes, it’s like a light has switched, I can see true submission in those eyes, he nods. I am so proud of my husband, I'm so proud of MYSELF. The thought enters my mind that I have molded him to exactly what I want and exactly what he never knew he wanted. I move to kneel in front of him, take his face in my hands and kiss him deeply. He moans and returns the kiss, our tongues tangling. I understand the gravity of telling a man (even a submissive) that he will never have sex again, it washes over me and I feel immediate love, gratitude, and power. I feel so deeply in love with this man who has given himself completely to me. It's time to seal this moment.    I get off my knees and squat in front of him. I feel my dress comes up over my knees. I know that on his level he can see up and get a glimpse of my underwear and that it will drive him crazy. I explain that he is to straighten out his legs, place his palms on the floor and keep them there. I tell him that I am going to untape his diaper and remove his cage then tape him back up for the rest of our conversation and that when I am finished he would be allowed to hump his diaper to orgasm. I know that the tease of a free penis will help him come to terms. The sensations will be too much for him to ever say no. I tell him to nod that he understood. He nods and I untape his diaper. I tell him how good he smells when I pull the front of his nursery print diaper away from his body. The baby powder mixed with pee...I love this smell. It is sweet and depraved, exactly how I like to be described. Our house typically smells like incense, except for the room which we made into his bedroom two years ago in March 2020. He has slept in bed with me only maybe five times since. We could easily dispose of his wet diapers right in the kitchen bin and take it out every day with the rest of the trash, but I love the smell so much that we keep an adult diaper pail in his room and empty it once a week. His locked up bits are twitching up and down as I grab the key off the table, twist it and pull out the locking mechanism. His custom Lori device has a wet sheen to it and feels slick as I pull the tube off his penis and set it on the floor. His penis grows immediately. He's not large by any means, but not tiny. If I used a vibrator while we had sex (when we did) I could actually get off, but that time is past and my power over him is far more of a turn on now than his penis ever was. I tell him to lay back as I marvel at his silent obedience, still sucking away on his pacifier, looking at me with extreme desperation and I kneel between his splayed legs. He's fully erect, with the ring of his chastity device still in place when I bring the heavy front of his wet diaper back up between his legs and tape him in. "Ok, sit up boy and I will explain our new arrangement." He sits, his hands still planted firmly on the floor and I can see the outline of his erection in the front of his nursery print diaper, it spurs me on. 

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

As far back as I can remember, I've had a compulsion to be with alpha males. Even as young as 6 or 7, I remember fantasizing what it would be like to be kidnapped by men, tied up and taken away. I suppose that says something about my early childhood, but what difference does that make now. And it wasn't that I hated my family. I just wanted to be the property of a strong older man.    Somewhere around that time I began trying self bondage. I would take my mother's supply of ace bandages, go up into the hot, humid attic and tie myself as best I could and fantasize about being some man's captive. Occasionally I would hear “what are you doing up there” and I'd have to spit the sock out of my mouth and come up with some passable answer. I don't remember ever getting caught but there were many near-misses.   We lived directly across from a factory where my father worked and from my bedroom I could watch all these macho blue collar workers file in clean and then file out sweaty and dirty. I was always mesmerized, especially when they were sweaty and dirty.    I'm rusty these days and not as agile as I used to be, but serious bondage was always one of my favorite fetishes. People would ask why and I would always say “there's freedom in bondage.” Freedom to go within and see what you can take and how much deeper you can go in your submission. And then there's the freedom of letting someone I trust take control of me and make my decisions for me.   I've always been hard-wired to be submissive to superior men. It's my nature. To be in the service of men is still the driving force in my life.   If you're reading this far and find yourself interested, I appreciate that deeply but I'm not available at the moment. I'm caring for an 80+ year-old Dom that I've known forever. I'm not even in the US. I park myself in Nevada on this site because there are very few people who understand my needs where I am.   I've been on this site for almost 10 years. First journal entry because I'm bored and a bit lonesome at times. I still feel the need to be owned and probably always will. I'll just have to be patient like a good sub.

  Pain or Punishment    Masochists ask for pain for pains sake & need   ...but punishment is something different.    Punishment is not meant to please it is a means to correct, to re-aline, to educate, to change a behaviour.    Punishment means you are going to suffer physically or mentally or even both.   There will be no fun or excitement in punishment but it likely to be very memorable. 

Lately I feel like a lot of my time is spent being adulty. I could really use some unrestricted time to not have to be doing and thinking and being responsible. I've been thinking a lot about coloring, which is not a typical hobby of mine. I don't age play, I don't have stuffies and binkies and pink sippy cups with glitter unicorns on them. But I find myself wanting the freedom to be less complicated, and maybe coloring is a way to do that. After a very specific search, I found a couple of simple books with bold outlines. They sat in the kitchen for a few days. Today, after a responsibly busy morning of chores, I grabbed a pillow and dropped to the living room floor with a box of crayons. Swinging my feet back and forth in the air as I lay on my stomach, selectively choosing colors and testing them on the side of a page like I was being paid for my efforts, I completed my first picture of a cup of ice cream with sprinkles and cherries. I hummed. I deliberated on the correct shade of pink. I carefully stayed within the lines. It's a perfect picture.  Here's what I noticed... I like being little, doing little things. If someone had stuck a binky in my mouth I'm pretty sure I would have happily sucked on it while swinging my feet and asking for a snack. It turns me on. Weird? I'm not really sure what to think of this. Or maybe I don't need to think anything of it and let it be. But great googlie mooglie, am I a little little? I already know that all those cute little names and specific praise all but set fire to my panties, but little activities? What do I do with this? Who even am I right now? 

I have been asked to update my journal and my relationship status since its been a few years.  I am polyamorous. I believe in multiple loves, multiple relationships, communication, trust and respect for everyone involved. I currently have my own submissive whom I've been with for 10 years. He lives with me and does not expect to be included in my exploits.   I love being poly. I have so much of myself to give.  I am looking for a Dom of my own.    If you have any questions and would like me answer them here in my journal please feel free to write me. 

So here I am, into my 60s. I've been coming to this website for about 10 years and I don't know why but I keep coming back. I stayed away for a while and then recently decided to update some fotos. And lately I've been getting attention from straight men who are interested in having a fag/sub/slave to use for their pleasure.    It's great. I'm 100% gay and have been since I can remember. And I love almost all aspaspects of dominance and submission, but I have always been attracted to dominant heterosexual men who enjoy using a good, reliable cocksucker. I've had ongoing cocksucker relationships with several along the way and it's always been gratifying for me, and I hope for them.   One man required me to keep my mouth on his cock for our entire meeting. He'd watch straight porn in a big easy chair while I sucked him. If he spoke I had to answer him with a mouth full of his cock. He'd let me relax my jaws every once in a while, and then back on I'd go.   There was another who liked to secure my hands behind my back while I sucked. Another who would stop by after drinking a Big Gulp so he could empty his bladder in me. Those were just the most memorable.   I was just there to be a sexual servant, to be used for someone's pleasure. And that's where I get my pleasure. From making men feel taken care of and satisfied. And if a straight man wants me to suck his dick, it's an honor I don't take lightly.

Today I read a journal entry on here asking where is the love on this site. Personally I don't share deep sentiments online, particularly on here. Why? Many are new bottoms seeking transactional kink which gets them blocked. In my view a submissivelistens to how I lead and answers questions I have. A bittom pushes to play to start how he-wants it=my Lady boner dropp means he gets ignored and BLOCKED. Returning to the topic of love: Any deep emotional feelings are mutual and developed over time within my poly group I am the Boss of a long-term face-to-face relationship. On here are my entry level thoughts regarding me, my life and who attracts my interestas a friend or potential long-term Slave in a TAT poly relationship.  Of course getting to know each other prior to anything developing takes time. I don't talk kink online at all. First meet is at The Mawney Munch in Romford in Essex, UK. No exceptions.  Pretty clear right?

Dont be afriad to talk to me, but can we talk about life first. Always opened to talking to  Doms Dommes Switches Slaves Subs. 

Ann's Deep Rub Facial The following is part of a much longer story I have written. I will not be presenting it here as much of it would not pass censorship. TEST ONE At the back door there was a note “I am in the study. Make me black tea and bring it, with cream, to me.” My face flushed with excitement. I made the tea and took it to the study. I stood there, in my short little pleated cheer leading skirt and sweater, looking for a place to set down the tea and condiments. MRS. MARQUIS, who was reading, did not bother to look up. After a while she indicated the little table near her. I moved the little box aside and sat the tray down. MRS. MARQUIS appraised what I had done and commented that it would take a while to train me properly. While I remained standing she indicated I should pour her tea with an impatient gesture of her hand. Then she added cream to her tea and then stared rather contemplatively at my chest. After a while she spoke. “Are you ready for another test?” I answered in the affirmative. “You will go to the hall closet and bring me one of the pairs of riding gloves you find there. Make sure it is the oldest most beat up of the lot.” There was riding equipment in the closet. Including riding boots, crops and a couple buggy whips. The gloves were laid out on a rack. It took just a second to find a pair that was a little scuffed. All the others looked new. I returned to MRS. MARQUIS. I offered her the gloves. “Put them on me, stupid.” It was very strange to put gloves on another persons hand so I fumbled around a bit. “Don’t you think it would be easier if you knelt?” “Yes of course,” I said as I sank to my knees. “You are not very good as a supplicant. But then you have had no training. Would you like to learn more about yourself and service?” “Yes” I was stammering again. “Well we shall begin. You have offered, yesterday, to endure discomfort for my pleasure. What would please me now would be to slap that insipid face of yours. Put your hands behind your back Grab opposite fore arms. Arch your chest forward. Hold your face up. Very good. Now I will slap your face from side to side, by the way, you should know that I am using old gloves because you are not worthy of the new ones. I would not want to scuff a good glove on your face. You will return your face to a forward looking position quickly after each slap. Are you ready?” I stammered a “yes”. “Good.” My face stung furiously after just the first slap. But I brought it back to the ordered position. “Quicker” was the order. Again the slap. I learned to keep my mouth shut when my teeth cut the inside of my mouth. I returned my face to the requisite position, only to learn that I was not fast enough. I got quicker, in spite of the pain, so quick that she could swing as fast as she wanted. My eyes red from tears. But before I lost clear vision I could see the look of extreme pleasure on her face. This slapping continued for what seemed an eternity.When she stopped my ears were wringing and my vision red. My face felt like it was covered with Deep Heat Rub. I was sobbing. She pulled me to her. Close to her. As I knelt, she pulled my face to hers and kissed me gently on the lips. Later she put my face to her breast. I knew my tears were leaving dark spots on the garment she wore. “There, there my little bitch it is not so bad now. Is it?”

 beautifuldichotomy