Things are ramping up and a little closer we crawl tug tug of that net for one and for all... ******************** Found out Mum has moderate sleep apnea.  40% of alz patients do.  funny thing about amolyoid protiens, seems they only break down during REM.  No sleep, No REM. No REM. No Brain.  70% O2 levels = BRAIN DAMAGE. Seems to Me mandatory health screening for sleep/breathing/bmi disorders need be the call of the day, especially in terms of a dementia diagnosis! Also... What in blazing hell is with ER's with no TV for DEMENTIA PATIENTS!?!   DEMENTIA:  1 HOUR = 1 DAY; 1 DAY = 1 WEEK. 1 WEEK - 1 MONTH 1 MONTH - 3 MONTHS Imagine being denied TV or computer or anytihng which gave you sanity for an entire week in the hospital!  How stable, or rational, or healthy are you? Its barbaric and borderline abusive.  Specialists are needed in the ER, just like for a child, and in terms of dementia for ordering food, diet, entertainment.  To expect a comprimised, handicap person to "entertain" theirselves or to be mature enough to handle the ER is a fail for society. ***************** Best wishes   

At the beginning of a relationship I try to keep surprises to a minimum. So I’ve written a short description of how I would spank the first time I did so. I do not spank really hard as the pleasure is over far too soon. I spank firmly and slowly. I call it a ‘Cumulative Dozen’. The first time you will have dressed as I instruct and will stand whilst I tell you why you are being spanked, it might just be for the pure enjoyment of doing so. You will bend over the back of a chair and I will lift your skirt, if needed I will hold you in place between my thigh and my left hand. The first spank will land on your far cheek, then one on your near cheek. I will then change sides and spank each cheek twice. Then change sides and spank each cheek three times, and so on until I decide to stop, or I’ve reached a dozen per side. Each cheek of your bottom could have received 78 spanks by this time. You will then be told to stand facing into the corner, holding your skirt above your waist and forbidden to touch your bottom. After a short wait you will bend over again, your panties will be removed, your legs parted and I will repeat the spanking. If you struggle you will be put over my knee and have your arm folded into the small of your back. By this time your bottom will be red and sore so the spanks will seem much harder than they actually are.  By the time a dozen is reached this time you will might want the spanking to stop. However if you have struggled too much, or clenched your bottom muscles too often I may decide to continue to 13, 14 or perhaps 15. One finished you will stand in the corner again, forbidden to touch your red bottom that you will keep on display until I tell you can move. If I have collared you the process will vary, if you would like to know how then just ask.

These things fill my submissive dreams:My partner wants to lead a relationship based on a happy friendship and sharing positive feelings.My partner enjoys using chastity to satisfy her need to possess her lover. She enjoys being center of attention when she wears clothes that men cannot ignore, especially me. She wants a partner who submits to her excitement for taking control physically using locks and keys.She would like to use her man's sexual energy to teach him to obey her. She want license to be persuasive on her terms.She is willing to take time to acknowledge my service with little erotic rewards even when she is tired. Words are enough.She is interested in putting mutual health activities into our shared routines of life for which we are both responsible.I'd be happy to do yoga, massage and connective breathing as our most frequent intimate activities.I enjoy being appreciated for my sexual arousal as a compliment to you at the same time I enjoy being denied sex as sincere submission to you.I'd like to demonstrate my experience with turning arousal in chastity into the intense desire to make you happy in non-sexual ways.I feel loved when locked in chastity but still want to make love when you decide to take it off. Please lock it up when you are done.I want to believe that you require chastity to prevent masturbation so that I stay fully erect when you want me to be.I am enchanted to believe you like chastity because it prevents anyone else from tempting me, that you now own me without question.The chastity does not need to eliminate having sex, but to control when. A woman who blocks male masturbation is never lonely. It is an easy way to encourage a man to give more hugs and better kisses if he is thinking about sex but cannot touch himself anymore.

Possibly not quite "journal"-worthy material... I own eleventy three nail polishes, but am completely incapable of applying them properly - it's the fingertips too, or nothing I loathe my body; being naked Is. The. Worst. I kinda like being embarrassed though, so it's not all doom and gloom... The only sport I will watch willingly is curling (and I'm extra excited when cats get involved) Not really sure I could kiss anyone who actually likes leeks. Maybe if you brush your teeth first. Maybe. I tend to overestimate the amount of time I have to get shit done. Plus. Procrastination. "Bits" in yoghurt are just plain wrong, as is coffee-served-in-a-glass; ffs, what's wrong with you people? I was seriously squicked by episode 9 of Girls, but I still use q-Tips o.O I am a Pinterest failure I'm the clumsiest person I know and my thumbs are not technology-friendly I get trolley rage. And pedestrian rage. Stop. Gathering. In. Doorways! Your logic has no place anywhere near my outrage. Sorry. I loathe my voice ... and my feet I have "water anxiety" - my water bottle must be nearby at all times. *Or*... I'll get thirsty I guess :/ I'm beyond horrified at the thought of something crawling into my ear (either one, I'm not picky).  I'm terrible at board games, but if I don't win it's because YOU cheated  -_- I get extreme food envy - to the extent I will move towards the back of the queue, so I can copy your order I hate the seams in my socks to be crooked; my toes get creeped out I laugh at the pompous I love being complimented on my outfit and I will tell you how much it cost and where I got it in the next breath I tell most people (who don't run quickly) about my grand plan for egg scrunching - minus the cleanup I am "happy" to wait out the last bit of moisturiser in the bottle - time and gravity will defeat you in the end you slimy fucker I adore designing psychometric tools that are both ethically and empirically questionable… Let me classify YOU! (just pm me and I'll pass judgement) I cannot cut in a straight line - as a result my wrapping paper to present ratio is seriously fucked

November 2, 2025 - Soccer Coach came by for a visit after a game     SUPER SHORT STORY this time...     Coach came by for a visit tonight.   Oh my God, it was quick but fun. He was only here for about 40 minutes. He wanted water sports, both drinking my piss and pissing on him. So throughtout the afternoon, I drank plenty of water and a beer. Drinking lots of water and especially a beer helps clear my bladder so it's clear piss with no scent. And I drank tons of water.   I was expecting him at 9:00pm and had been drinking water extra heavily for the past hour. At 8:45, I thought my bladder was going to explode.   He messaged and said that he was about 10 minutes away and I said "that's good because my bladder is going to explode. When you get here get naked and we're getting in the shower for piss play first thing. Be prepared for a lot of piss." And that's exactly what happened.   He's a soccer coach and had warned me that he had four games today, and that he was coming directly from his last game. He warned me that he was not going to be freshly showered like normal. That's why I said we'd start in the shower. First for piss play, then so he could clean up from his day of strenious activity.   When he arrived, I was wearing nothing but a bathrobe. He immediately stripped his clothing off and with very little chit chat, we headed for the bathroom. We got in the shower, he dropped to his knees, took my cock in his mouth. I relaxed and my bladder started to empty into his mouth. I pissed and pissed and pissed some more. And then I pissed even more. I can't believe how much piss my bladder had been holding. I could hear him swallowing, Gulp, Gulp, Gulp, Gulp. I fucking flooded my mouth with my hot piss.   He was catching and swallowing most of it with very little escaping from his lips. Finally I said, "you don't have to drink every drop." He pulled his head back a bit and my cock out popped out of his mouth and my piss sprayed all over him. Like holding a garden hose he directed the stream of piss all over his face, and then through his hair. Eventually I stopped pissing, but only to start again a moment or two later. Eventually I completely drained my bladder.     I rinsed off and then left him in the shower telling him a fresh towel would be hanging on the doorknob. When he got out of the bathroom, we went upstairs, I didn't even tie him to the bed like I had planned. I just told him to lay on his back in the bed and I climbed up on top of his chest with a knee in each of his armpits. I leaned forward putting my semi limp cock to his lips. He sucked my cock into his mouth and started sucking on it. I actually thought I might be able to piss a bit more, but we were in the bed that I sleep in, so I didn't want to risk it. After a moment or two of sucking, my cock started getting hard, so I started to throat fucked the hell out of him.   A few times he would gag when my cock hit that magic spot in the back of his throat. At other times he would stick his tongue out and lick my balls while my cock was still in his mouth. I barked a few commands to "suck daddy's cock." After unloading all that piss, and since I had been playing with myself and watching porn before he arrived, I was getting too excited, too quickly. It didn't take long until I dropped my load into his mouth. I pulled almost completely out of his mouth so I squirted my spunk onto his tongue, and then I heard him gulp like he was doing with my piss in the shower.   Then he continued to suck getting every last drop out.   It was a quick visit, but it was absolutely wonderful. I don't think I've pissed in anyone's mouth for almost a year, and although I thought my bladder felt like it was going to burst for a few minutes before his arrival, when I finally got to empty my bladder into his mouthand stomach, it was fantastic. It's been way too long since he's been here for a visit, which is my mistake because of my busy schedule. But I can guarantee, it's not going to be that long before I see him again.   Definitely had a great time.   Read more stories at https://www.SirKel.top    

I am an experienced master with many years in the lifestyle. I have led a poly house in the past and i have had several slaves. What i seek now is both ambitious and challenging.  For me as well as for you. I wish to build the family I no longer have. I desire to build it around the BDSM lifestyle that I have chosen to live.  I have a small ranch in west Texas. It is a labor of love and endurance. I seek those that desire to part of something larger than themselves. Greater than any one person, even myself.  While at the same time meeting the needs of Master/slave relationships.  It can be both long or short term engagements. Although I prefer long term and those that would desire to wear my brand. Gender and orientation is immaterial. I desire slaves, males and females for manual labor and maintenance. I seek domestic service slaves for care and upkeep of the households. I seek service slaves for the care and upkeep of the workers. I desire business minded professionals to develop the ranch to be profitable, and working slaves (even if outside the ranch) to contribute to that profitability and sustainability. Singles and couples, a place can be found for you. Whether a short term, learning and training opportunity or forever home. Abilities and skills determined. Used and useful. This is not about free labor, free sex or free anything. It is having a place, a home, acceptance and being needed. The brand is not something you earn. It is something that is to be lived up to every day. It is second chances. It is defiance of norms. It is surviving the coming storms.  Chains and cages? Of course! Not just physical ones, but on your mind and heart as well. Whips and canes? Lol. Try me and find out.  All i ask is that you look inside yourself. It is not about whether you think you are worthy or capable. You do not get to make that determination. That is always for others to determine.  Even as a Master has to prove they are capable of leading and being looked up to, worthy of submission, obedience and reverence.  I would love your feed back and constructive criticism is welcome.  Help me determine what this should look like to be successful and sustainable. 

Hey, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, and I want to share something important with you. Finding a master isn’t something that comes easy or quick, and that’s because it’s not just about a label or a title—it’s about a deep connection, trust, and mutual understanding. I want you to know that I’m genuinely ready for this lifestyle. I’m committed to learning, growing, and fully embracing the dynamic it brings. It’s not just about being controlled or guided—it’s about pleasing a master who respaspects and values me, someone who can push me to be my best and help me discover parts of myself I never knew existed. I’m prepared to put in the effort, to listen, and to show my loyalty and dedication in every possible way. This isn’t a phase or a fleeting interest for me—it’s something I want to live, breathe, and make a meaningful part of who I am. So if you’re someone who understands the depth of this lifestyle, knows the responsibility it carries, and is looking for someone ready to fully commit and please, then I’d like to have that conversation with you. It’s hard to find this kind of connection because it requires honesty, respect, and a level of sincerity that not everyone offers. But I’m here, and I’m ready.

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

It will be OK Two drifting people on different ways,Living limited lives from distant days.Surrounded by many, yet still alone,Both in houses, but neither at home.A chance encounter - light, no more -Stirred something deep in each to the core.Old memories woke, a future appeared,New beginnings whispered where caution had steered.One stepped forward, the other stepped back,Too much to carry, too much to track.Too deep for one heart to sustain,And early joy gave way to pain.Like moths to flame they circled still,Neither yet ready for the bitter pill.Until at last he spoke his truths,Releasing both back to their roots.They dared to dream - and will again -Just not together.That much is plain.

It's that time of year! Exxxotica time!!    I'll be appearing at EXXXOTICA Edison & DC! Here is your opportunity to present your pathetic self to me in a public venue! The wise take advantage of this opportunity.     Edison dates: 24-27 DC dates: Dec. 5-8

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

June 2, 2025 - Pennsylvania red came by today.       He has been here many times before, so he knew to come into the garage where he stripped in back of the garage and put his clothing in a plastic milk carton with a written sign that says “Worthless Pieces of Human flesh are to put their clothing here before entering.”   For the first time, I had placed wrist and ankle restraints in the clothing box before his arrival. I had no written instructions, I had not told him I was going to be doing it, it was a completely new thing for him to see. I knew he would understand what I wanted him to do. And, as expected, he came in naked WITH the restraints on. It was just another level of humiliation I was putting him through.   We went upstairs and I told him I needed a blow job. I laid back on my bed, and he got up all fours with his ass to my right. He knows from previous visits that I love to play with his ass with my fingers as he is sucking my cock. As he was sucking, I put a bit of lube on my fingers and shoved them in his ass. I started with one finger, but soon I was shoving three fingers into him. He started out super tight, but I was quickly loosening his hole.   I started spanking with my hand. Not only did I spank both of his butt cheeks, but I was concentrating smacking the actual crack of his ass. Something about smacking his HOLE is a real turn on. This went on for about 15 mins, including wrapping my leg around his neck pulling him down onto my cock until he was choking, holding him there until I though he was about to vomit.   When I knew his mouth, jaws and throat were on fire from the session, I told him to get up on all fours with his ass at the bottom of the bed. I started with my fingers and lots of lube. I removed my fingers and replaced them with a long bumpy toy. I pushed it deep in his ass hoping he took the time to clean out properly. I was not disappointed. I fucked him with the toy for a while as I played with my cock with my free hand. Occasionally I would pull and tug on his balls.   READ THE ENTIRE STORY AT HTTPS://SirKel.top?collarspace

I thought I had found my person, my boy, my pet, my slave!! In our process of communicating the only thing I asked of him is that he stayed in contact!! Tell me how hard it is just to send a message in the morning, a message when you get to work, message me on break, if you get one, and message me when you get home! I feel that's relatively easy, but the one thing that you do not do is give me a lame excuse for why it is that you could not message me!! And then you want to send me messages out the wazoo the next day and tell me how much you miss me and want to hear my voice......... This man is not a true submissive nor is he a slave! He has fallen into the commercialization of the lifestyle and is still pretending to be something he's not!!

To what degree these numbers are meaningful, i do not know, and i confess to being skeptical (although i’ll confess to virtually anything if the mood is right). But still... == Results from bdsmtest.org ==100% Masochist100% Submissive100% Rope bunny86% Degradee75% Slave62% Primal (Prey)<br style="box-sizing: border-box; border-width: 0px;

Picture it Feb 14, 20?? (to protect the innocent). A friend of mine was getting married. I always had a little crush on his girlfriend but I would never do anything to jeopardize their relationship. Little did I know that she felt the same way about me, and I was about to find out. The day before of the wedding she called me up and asked if I could help her with a few things.She gave me the address and told me to stop by. When she opened the door she was wearing a robe and holding two wine glasses. She invited me in and we sat on the couch. We started talking about tomorrow's events and she said her feet were killing her from practicing walking around in the high heel shoes. She asked me if I could give her a foot massage. I rubbed her feet and I could tell she was really getting into it. She was at the nail salon earlier and didn't want to chip a nail and asked me if I could help her at a shower. So we went into the bathroom and she took off her robe. Now up to this point we only gave each other hello or goodbye hugs, and now she is standing in front of me naked. I am trying not to stare but she is in great shape. She told me to get undressed and into the shower with her. I washed & conditioned her hair, washed her body, shaved her airpits, legs, and pussy too. She asked me why I never made a move on her and I told her I didn't think she was interested in me. She said that's too bad, after tonight it is going to be to late and I will never have this chance again. We kissed a litttle, I got her dried off and into bed and I went home. I saw her the next day at the wedding and she was beautiful. The wedding went on with no problems and as far as I know, my friend has no dea how she spent her last night as a single woman.

Journal Update - November 2024 I'm Tara and I'm coming back to this site afgter having nearly given up on everything and being lost for a while. I am pre-op trans. I was on hormones, but the health scare I have took me off them for a while. I won't be able to recommence them until January 2025. If that's a problem for you I entirely understand.I've got a lot of kinky hobbies, one that some people know about me is that I have worn chastity since March 2020. I unlock once a week for shaving and cleaning. I switch between two very small devices which can go largely unnoticed under most of my wardrobe.I live 24/7 as a woman. I do have some real struggles with dysphoria, the person I see when I see myself in the mirror often doesn't match how I feel. I wish the NHS moved faster. I want to do this all right so am not taking shortcuts.I love, and I mean really LOVE bondage. Put me in cuffs and a collar and I will melt into submission. Over the next few weeks I think i am going to use the journal to share some of my past expereinces.Tara xox  

The Lesson in the Red Chair (part one) T.L. Duncan He showed up trembling. Not from fear—at least, not the kind he admitted—but from the anticipation he’d been drowning in for weeks. Every message he sent dripped with eagerness, with that hungry little please he tried to hide behind politeness. I opened the door before he had a chance to knock twice. “Inside,” I told him. He obeyed instantly, the good ones always do. My living room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the salt lamp and the single, deliberate spotlight shining down on the red leather chair in the center of the room. That chair wasn’t decorative. That chair was ritual. “Shoes off.” He complied. “Phone on the table.” Another instant reaction. Good. His training hadn’t even begun and he already understood offering control. I circled him slowly, letting silence do the work. The air between us tightened when I brushed a strand of hair behind his ear—not to comfort him, but to claim space. His breath hitched, and that was when I knew: he’d fall beautifully. I stopped in front of him. “You said you wanted structure,” I said. “Discipline. To feel owned for one hour.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, Ma’am.” “Look at me.” He obeyed again, the word Ma’am still warm in the air. I placed a finger under his chin. “Then you’ll start by kneeling.” He sank to the floor so fast I almost laughed. Not cruelly—just with the quiet satisfaction of someone who has seen this dance a thousand times and still enjoys every second. “Knees apart. Hands behind your back. Shoulders straight.” He adjusted three times before he got it right. Nervous boys forget how their bodies work when they’re desperate. I walked behind him, lifted his hair, and inspected the vulnerable line of his neck. “So sensitive,” I murmured. “If I pressed my thumb here, you’d melt.” He swallowed hard. I didn’t touch him yet. Not physically. Instead, I moved to the red chair, sat down, and crossed my legs with deliberate slowness. “Crawl.” He hesitated, only for a breath. Then he placed his palms on the floor and moved toward me like he’d been waiting his whole life to be commanded that way. His breath shook with every inch he traveled. When he reached the foot of the chair, he stopped and waited. “Good,” I said, letting the approval slide over him like warm oil. “Now put your head on my knee.” He rested his cheek against my thigh as if it were a pillow he’d spent years searching for. His exhale was a confession. I stroked his hair once—reward, not affection. “You crave rules because the world expaspects you to be strong,” I said softly. “But here, strength is mine. Obedience is yours.” “Yes, Ma’am…” “And you take direction beautifully. That’s why I chose you for tonight.” His whole body trembled. I slipped my fingers into his hair and pulled his head back—not harsh, not gentle, but precise. His lips parted, surprise and need blending into something addictive. “There are three things you’re going to learn,” I told him. “One: listen when I speak. Two: obey the first time. Three…” I leaned in, my breath barely brushing his ear. “Never make me repeat myself unless you want consequences.” A shiver shot through him so sharp it might as well have been an orgasm. I smiled. “Now,” I said, loosening my hand but not releasing him. “Your lesson begins.” His head was still in my lap when I slid my hand from his hair to the back of his neck. He froze. Not from fear—no, he was far past that—but from the realization that he had no idea what would happen next. Good. Uncertainty is the first tool of sensory play. “Hands flat on your thighs,” I instructed. His palms landed instantly, but I tapped one with a single finger. “Softer. You’re not bracing for impact. You’re waiting for permission.” He corrected himself. Obedient. Attentive. Hungry. I reached to the side table, slowly enough that he heard my bracelets shift but not fast enough to interpret the sound. His breathing changed—shorter, quicker—as his imagination sprinted ahead of me. Let it. The first thing I picked up was the silk scarf. Not to blindfold him. Not yet. I simply let the fabric glide across his forearm. He inhaled sharply. “Too sensitive?” I teased. “No, Ma’am. Just… unexpected.” “Good. That’s the point.” I drew the silk back, then traced the same path with my fingertip—cooler, firmer, more precise. His skin twitched under the contrast. “Tell me what you feel,” I said. “Soft… then colder. Like my body’s trying to guess you before you touch me.” “Your body doesn’t get to guess. It gets to react.” He shivered, a subtle ripple that traveled from shoulder to knee. I reached again—this time to the small wooden wand, smooth on one end, textured on the other. I let him hear it roll across my palm. His breath caught; he recognized the sound but couldn’t place it. Perfect. I touched his wrist with the cool, rounded end. He sucked in a breath. Then I flipped it and dragged the textured side down the same line. He gasped—quiet, but the kind of sound a man makes when his brain can’t decide between pleasure and restraint. “Overwhelming?” I asked, lifting his chin with the wand. “Yes, Ma’am…” “Too much?” “No, Ma’am. More.” “Then you’ll stay still for it.” He nodded, and I rewarded him by letting the wand trail up his inner arm—slow, deliberate, circling closer to the bend of his elbow. He swallowed. He always swallowed when he was fighting the urge to

Janitor of lunacyIdentify my destinyRevive the living dreamForgive their begging scream I was told last night by a coworker that I remind them of Clementine from Eternal Sunshine of the spotless mind... That was the best compliment ever... Clementine was so misunderstood.

Haha. Seems Drumf  is a bad word on this site. Let's see if an edit makes the cut... 11/5/24 If you're a Drumf supporter, let's not waste each other's time. We will never be more than cordial acquaintances, at best. I genuinely cannot ever understand the mindset that accepts his behaviours in any way, shape, or form, let alone as leader and role model for this country and the world. Apparently some people don't understand how politics plays into a site like this. In this case, it goes way beyond politics and into morality. I can be civil, as evidenced by my opening lines here. When what I really feel in my heart is: I have no fucking use for you in my life, you fucking traitors to humanity, compassion, and decency. You call yourselves patriots and wave the US flag, all while supporting a would be dictator. You don't value Democracy, nor any of the millions of immigrants, women, disabled and/or ethnicly diverse individuals, or even children you've stepped on...y'know, people who make this country truly Great. Your red hats are just as UN-patriotic as if they were red coats. At least you got the color right, traitors.

  The pool party was in Royal OUak,  a very nice suburb of Houston.  I was admiring all the large homes with long driveways and manicured lawns.  When I arrived at the house, I pulled into the driveway and parked behind a Tesla.  I checked my face in the mirror and got out of my car.  I wore a black string bikini under a black cover up with a pair of wedges and some sunglasses.   I could hear voices, music and splashing on the other side of the privacy fence.  I opened the door and I looked around.  From my left was the back of the house that had a covered patio.  The large yard surrounded a big pool with lounge chairs and tables with umbrellas.  To the right was a tiki bar.  I headed there.   Heather called out to me , "Hey! I'm glad you made it.  Why don't you get a cocktail and chill? Bartender?  Give her whatever she wants." I smiled and asked for a hurricane.  Coming right up, he said.  I looked around and saw people enjoying the day.  Most were in or near the pool.  There was mostly a mixture of 20 and 30 somethings.  A group of four were sitting at a table enjoying a blunt.  I headed there.   Me, smiling:  Can I try? "Sure gorgeous" a handsome guy said and handed it to me.  "Hey are you that new girl I heard about?"  Me, smiling:  "Maybe!" Heather, waving to get my attention:  "Come here I want to introduce you to someone.". She led me towards the house as Jim and another man were emerging from the back.   Jim, looking at the other man:  This is the one I told you about."  This is Renee, he provides the financing for my movies. " Renee, smiling at me:  It's nice to meet you.  I heard you have a nice set of abs. May I see them? I opened my cover up and showed off my body.  I flexed my abs and instinctively did a bicep pose.   Renee, still smiling:  You have a very nice body.  Any tattoos?" Me:  "No, I'm all natural.". I glanced at Heather, smiling.   Jim, to me:  "Enjoy the party.  We'll talk later." And the two men walk back inside the house.   Heather, to me:  "Let's go swimming." And we spent the rest of the afternoon just partying and enjoying the pool.  Throughout the day I met other people in the movie business.  There was a black female actress.  A Latino male actor said hello.  I met a lighting guy, a sound guy, some grips, gaffers, a set manager, a camera man and an editor.  I had no idea what some of them did until they explained it to me.  No wonder films are so expensive.  Next, The Pitch  

I am active in my local kink community. Or rather, I was before the pandemic and I will be again. Watching other people play is a magical experience. To witness their playfulness, their intensity, the fear, aggression, comfort, tenderness, and artistry of a scene is beautiful. I've been lucky enough to play with some wonderful, skilled tops. I've even introduced new people to different types of play. I am enriched by every experience. All of this has taught me a very important lesson about myself. Submission is a deeply intimate experience for me. When I bottom for someone that I am not connected to the drop is much harder. I can't give pieces of myself to people who don't want to keep them. So I don't do casual play anymore. No impromptu scenes, no kink only arrangements, not even bottoming for someone who is learning. This is also why I don't do LDRs. The one I submit to must desire all of me. Not just the fun kinky parts. They need to be physically here so I can touch and be touched. That is super important to me.  I know it's possible and I am a patient woman.  

Let's seeee.... okay. Ideal setup    Im looking for someone that is 1000% supportive of me and HRT.  I wish to find a place where I can mentally dissolve who I currently am and evolve into a genuine bimbo sissy trans doll. And yes I used sissy and trans in the same sentence. Is it possible.  Yes. Sissy referring to ones submissive girly play toy. And trans doll as in well. Me :). Petite smooth tight body.  Speaking of body. Let's talk about that.  So apparently I have an exotic one of a kind body .... I know right. Hard for me to believe it too :p. Anywho. I'm very very very great full for having it and would love to put it to use where I can generate climaxual pleasure for anyone. What do I mean by this ... well idk to be honest. But I'd like to have gym access and/or an encouraging person that help maintain the motivation to get as sexy and as feminine as I could get.  Minus the bottom surgery. Yes u read right.  Not going to do any cutting off down there. However. I am open to some body modz to a certain extent. Of course nothing deforming or any such thing. (Please don't ask what) if anything asking if I'm open too.. whatever ur kinky desire is. And I'll let u know if I'd be willing.  Anywho. Um so yes. I tend to be a little high on the kinky side.  Which is a very VERY Vague statement. However let's just say. I really really do truly enjoy seeing the satifaction one get from doing/not doing/ treating or being a certain way with me.  Again very vague not trying to get into detail just showing u the willingness I have to satisfy you. Umm so. With that been said.    I seek someone who will take me in own me collar me and use me for their twisted pleasure.  How far am I willing to go. Ask. Me. But it just how far am I willing to go lol. Ask me how do I feel about this or have u done things like that.  What about if we xyz. . But umm okk so yaw.  Truly one of a kind here. Appearley something very very special. An amazing eye candy. Incredibly smart. I credavly capable of achieving ur satifaction :). I like to be told/force. Made to submit my body for ur pleasure lol. Ummm.    Well yawww. Serious inquires please. I'm ready to purchase a round trip ticket to you.  Where towards the end we'll see if I should stay. Or go. No games no bs.  If ur catfish fake poor hugene ethic or manors I will initiate blan b.  I ask please no hard feeling.  We're all chasing that life we have in our mind  .idk if any of this came out the way I inted as in ur understanding but I like to post genuine articles that flow right. Off the top of my head. I feel its more genuine since there is a not much time to contemplate the topic potentially leading to an influenced decision other the my own  thanks for readjng 

Building an authentic M/s relationship takes time. It starts with conversation. Open and honest about what things mean, experiences, expectations, and more. How else would we determine if we are good for each other. Then, it takes a leap of faith from both of us. I've been surprised by a "slave" who was so rude and so standoffish. I get I am not for everyone just as not everyone will be a good match for Me. But still... kindness is for everyone.  I am not a wannabe. Nor am I just a thirsty boy looking for sex. Sex will be a great part of our dynamic but it's not what drives Me. I've lived this life authentic for many many years. I seek that 24/7 TAT/TPE again.  That likely starts on line and then moves to calls and visits. I am not here to scam you, lead you on, have you send pics, or wank off to you on skype. Not My thing at all. I am old school. you'll always be treated with respect. Being in charge doesn't equate to mean or disrespectful.  Just about every ex or ex play partner will have good things to say about Me. One was a compulsive liar who turned nasty. A few of them would love for Me to collar them again. you will not be disappointed with Me if you are truly seeking a deep D/s or M/s bond and relationship.  I am still in Grand Rapids while I look at places to relocate to. I'll buy a house and settle in wherever that leads Me to. I hope you'll take a leap of faith. MT

Spot The difference Mark had a secret, one he kept even from himself most days. Tucked away in a encrypted folder on his laptop, labeled "Tax Records 2018," was a collection of stories. They were all variations on the same theme: powerful, confident women taking lovers while their husbands watched from the shadows, sometimes in anguish, sometimes in ecstasy. For Mark, these were a potent escape. In his mundane life—as a mid-level accountant, as a husband to the lovely but predictable Sarah—he was anything but powerless. He managed their finances, he decided on home repairs, he was, in every measurable way, the man of the house.   The fantasies were a complete inversion. They were a safe, controlled way to experience the loss of control. The humiliation in the stories was a curated spice, a theatrical performance of vulnerability that held no real-world consequences. He'd read them late at night, the glow of the screen illuminating his face, the scenarios playing out in his mind as a form of psychological release. He imagined the mix of jealousy and arousal, the complicated knot of emotions that made the fantasy so compelling. He even toyed with the idea of bringing it up to Sarah, but the words always caught in his throat. How could he possibly explain wanting to feel small and insignificant to the woman who relied on him to be anything but?   The fantasy was a perfect, self-contained jewel. The reality was a shattered mess.   It started with a shift in Sarah's behavior. A new, almost furtive energy. She started wearing perfume to work, which she hadn't done in years. She became protective of her phone, turning it screen-down on the counter. Mark, armed with the "knowledge" from his stories, told himself he was being paranoid. This wasn't like the neat narratives he read. There were no knowing glances, no whispered confessions. This was just… weirdness.   The confirmation came not through a dramatic confrontation, but through mundane technology. He was syncing their family photos to the cloud and her phone's camera roll automatically backed up as well. There, amongst pictures of their dog and a recent work event, was a short video. He tapped it, expecting a clip of a friend's birthday.   It was Sarah, on a hotel bed he didn't recognize, her head thrown back in a laugh he hadn't heard in years. And there was a man's arm, a tattoo of a coiled snake on its forearm, wrapped around her. The sound was off, but he didn't need it. The intimacy in the frame was a physical blow.   In his stories, the moment of discovery was the climax. The husband would feel a jolt of electric humiliation, his stomach would clench with a painful, illicit thrill. He would be aroused despite himself, his body betraying his mind as he watched the scene unfold.   Mark felt none of that.   He felt a cold, sickening hollerness in his gut. His hands started shaking so violently he dropped his phone. The screen cracked, spiderwebbing over the image of his wife and the snake-tattooed arm. He didn't feel a perverse thrill. He felt like he was going to throw up. The air in the room became thick and hard to breathe. This wasn't a carefully constructed narrative of power exchange; this was a raw, ugly betrayal.   The fantasy had always been about *him*. His reaction, his journey, his complex feelings. The wife was a catalyst, a powerful figure in his psychodrama. But this reality wasn't about him at all. It was about Sarah and her secrets. He wasn't an audience member in a consensual performance; he was the fool who hadn't even known he was off-stage.   When Sarah came home, she saw his face. She saw the phone on the floor. The story tumbled out, messy and tearful. It wasn't about power or dynamics; it was about loneliness and feeling invisible and a stupid, drunken mistake at a conference.   As she spoke, all Mark could think about were the stories. The clean lines of the text, the articulate descriptions of agony and desire. They were a lie. They were pornography, not reality. They had romanticized a pain that was, in truth, just jagged and brutal. There was no arousal in his devastation, no liberation in his humiliation. There was only the crushing weight of a broken trust, a thousand times heavier and more real than the paper-thin fantasies he'd used to distract himself from the very real possibility of such a pain. He had wanted to play with fire in a controlled environment, only to discover that in the real world, you just get burned.

3/21/26  Happy Spring........................ I have been reflecting lately on the people I have met within this community. I deeply respect the honesty this lifestyle can bring when it is genuine, but with time comes the clarity to recognize the difference between surface-level energy and meaningful connection.   For me, this has never been solely about the physical. It is about presence, trust, and an energy that transcends the moment. When you truly understand your desires, you stop trying to fit where you do not belong and stop reshaping yourself for acceptance. Once you experience an authentic connection where you can show up fully, you realize you can no longer settle for anything less.   I am grateful for the experiences and the people who have shaped my perspective. I feel more grounded now in what I will and will not accept moving forward. Real connection is rare, and I have decided to no longer entertain anything that doesn't meet that standard.   For a long time, I was simply pushing forward, always waiting for "someday." Lately, however, I have been sitting with a different truth. While I do not have a perfect life, I am envisioning a version of life that is perfect for me. We all have things that need to be healed or figured out, and many of us feel like we don't quite fit the ordinary mold. We think differently and require different ways of being seen—yearning for the specific types of love and service that only those within this community truly understand.   There is something honest about that realization. It is about recognizing that even in the middle of life's messy moments, there are still people worth meeting and experiences worth having. You don't have to be perfect to find what is perfect for you. Take the risk of being volunerable, take the risk of being seen or even hurt..... We have less years in front of us then we do behind us.. Risk the chance before you regret it.. Hugs, bumps and grinds my naughty kinsters........ xox

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

Again, it is sad and pathetic that I am having to make this journal entry. First, in no shape or form did it hurt My feelings. But his correspondence has actually made My day and just proves My view/point of men that contact Me.   Second, I do not have to respond to anyone that contacts Me. Just like it was your choice to go through all of the profiles until you find Mine and send a message.  So here is the secret, if it truly someone that I am interested in, I will see just how long he will go before he turns ugly, name calling, etc. Again, does NOT hurt My feelings.  his behavior actually makes Me feel sorry for him and I have no room for subs that I feel sorry for. A certain book about D/s, that was turned into a 3 part movie, has actually turned this lifestyle in a wild romper room of kinky sex.  A majority of the men that contact Me "say" they are not married but as things move along, the signs start popping up.  Hey guys, not My first rodeo okay?  ;-) Of course, sex is great, especially hot monkey sex.  Drop Me a line if you have no idea what that is.  But personally for ME, it is a state of mind.  So if you are looking for a Tuesday afternoon spank/sex romp, that's not going to happen so move onto the next profile.  Oh yes, if you live outside the US, I will not sponsor you so begging to be My house boy again is pathetic   So why am I posting this?  Because My favorite part of this lifestyle is training newbies.  But apparently, subs that have been in this lifestyle for over 15, 20, 30 years really need a refresher. After all of these years and you are still searching to be owned, you need to look at your approach to see if you come off desperate or even as a stalker.  Just putting it out there. Well today's lesson is over   Pain and Pleasure always,  Mistress Brenda  hopefully, autocorrect hasn't made Me look like uneducated.   :-)    

My heart goes out to those who have lost their lives, and those picking up the pieces after the hurricane in the States. I have friends and family there and their packs of supplies they keep topped up all year are seeing them through. But they are reporting the tragedies of neighbours.  I wish everyone well who is suffering there.  

Communication Matters! Open,  honest,  forthright Communication is essential.  "He voluntarily and openly commits himself to serve the needs of the dominant partner.. . and by accepting, she fulfills his need to serve. Where things go from there will vary from relationship to relationship depending on the mutual desires and unique personalities of the partners."

People are vastly different. So to find a single needle in 100 haystacks is seemingly an impossible feat.   Be yourself and be completely open and honest. Don't ever lie in order to find what your looking for because the lie will eventually come to the surface. .   In my opinion to be dominate is not to act or be mean to someone. It's not to hate or belittle in order to get someone to do what you want them to do.   Being self assured and dominate means to take care of and pass on knowledge.  To take someone and fulfill their lives and make them useful.    We all have a role to play in this universe. When your happy and content that means your exactly where you should be  and doing what you should be doing at that moment. So many people are on here searching ... searching but never finding or not really knowing what they are looking for. ( I'm a dom, no wait I'm a sub, no wait I'm a switch...wait wait maybe I'm a dom slave lesbian male )  When I talk about giving yourself up completely you should only ONLY do that to someone you trust and know that they have your best intention at heart. I'm not talking about a romantic relationship , that is silly to think that would happen that way over the internet. It's unrealistic and delusional .   I'm only talking to those that are looking to be owned and cared for. In turn you need to think about what you would give up to get that.

no blood clot. But lots of inflammation in my lungs. I've been sleeping a lot, taking meds for this illness. I'm starting to feel a little better, but I'm still so damn tired. Pneumonia isn't anything to mess around with. I spent a week thinking my allergies were getting worse, but now I think it was a sinus infection that went to my chest and yeah. I hate being sick, it always hits me hard. This is the second time I've had pneumonia this year. I'm glad I'm starting to feel better, but it sure does suck being immunocompromised.  Sir and I are working things out. He came to see me and now I have beautiful bruises in several areas. I know he's still mad at me, but I wear his marks with pride, because it means I served him, his pleasure, his desires. Now I must get better so I can continue serving him. So, that's the goal, recovering. I'm still on an antibiotic and see my doctor when I've finished it. So we will see what happens from there. 

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

I’ve been reflecting on past dynamics—especially the ones that carried intensity, structure, and a deep psychological connection. And over time, something became clear to me. Some lost sight of the purpose. They became more focused on punishment than on presence. More attached to the feeling of correction than to the act of truly serving. The dynamic shifted away from alignment… and into fixation. And that’s not what I want to cultivate. Because my role, the way I see it, is not to break men down or leave them in a constant state of need. It’s to guide. To shape. To bring them into alignment with something greater than themselves. That’s where my philosophy of Goddess and matriarchy truly lives. A feminine-centered dynamic, at its highest form, is not about chaos or control for its own sake. It’s about order, intention, and a quiet kind of authority that creates structure others can settle into. Within that structure, the masculine doesn’t disappear—it finds its place. It becomes supportive, focused, and purposeful. That’s where devotion becomes meaningful. Not in desperation. Not in obsession with punishment. But in awareness. In learning how to show up consistently.In understanding how to listen, how to respond, how to serve in a way that actually contributes to something whole. I won’t define what this looks like for everyone. But for me… it has never been about destruction. It’s about refinement. Guidance. And creating a space where submission is not just felt—but lived with clarity, balance, and intention. That is where something truly divine begins to take shape. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

Touch  I am sure I had sensory processing disorder as a kid. I totally remember crying all the time from some of the stuff my mom used to want me to wear, and I remember her just sitting there looking at me totally baffled trying to assure me it was the softest she could find. Or having to stop 15 times on a school field trip to sit on the floor in the middle of a museum and take off my shoes and pull up my socks because they kept shifting in my shoe and the seam was by my toe... I grew up in the NJ/NY area around Italians, and Jews, and Irish, and lots of "Old World Europeans" who at a minimum bear hugged and kissed one cheek, if not both, if not multiple times each time they greeted you.  I am in the Midwest now where they are a little more reserved.  I can't remember the last time I got a cheek kiss and most of the hugs are just side hugs... I still tend to crash in and hug anyone I know won't flip out from it though lol.  I miss those bear hugs!  Getting one now days is enough to bring tears to my eyes my body needs it so much! The chemical release in my brain is outside of my control! I need this.  Need.  Need like I need food, water, and shelter.  Studies during the pandemic have shown  am not alone in this, but my sensory processing issues probably make it a little extreme for me.  For years scientists have studies out hands and fingers, joints, skin, etc and their sense of touch, but recently they are becoming interested in a subset of touch sensitive nerves in the core regions of our body, such as the back, which have one been discovered.   *“This second type of sensory nerves send signals to areas of our brains that deal with emotional processing. They are most responsive to skin temperature and gentle, stroking touch. Observational studies find that when people are asked to caress their infant, or their romantic partner, they spontaneously use the slow stroking speeds that these nerve fibres prefer. This touch is subjectively perceived as pleasant; it calms and soothes us physiologically, reducing heart rate and buffering against the effects of stress. When stimulated, these nerves send signals via the spinal cord to the brain where they release a cascade of neurochemicals. One of the most notable chemicals among these is oxytocin, a hormone released by low-intensity skin stimulation such as hugs. Oxytocin is known to play important roles in social bonding, and can reduce stress and increase our tolerance to pain. The release of oxytocin during social interactions is context-dependent: only when a hug is wanted will the comforting and rewarding effects be felt. When touch is desired, the benefits are shared by both partners in the exchange.” This explains my desperate need and the reason I melt like a purring kitten when I get it and shut down like an angry Doberman when I don’t.  Take me from a culture that touched all the time, and in sensory processing issues, and then throw widowhood in a post-pandemic world… Touch me.  Don’t ever keep it from me.  I can’t be held responsible if you do.  Just saying…    excerpts from *From the Article “The science of hugging, and why we’re missing it so much during the pandemic by Susannah Walker”  

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

7/31/2024 6:49:25 PM   A very warm and grateful send out to those who have contacted Me to share of their own story and their strength and well wishing.  This was quite unexpected and I appreciate the consideration shown and stories shared.  My very best to you and yours and thank you for the kindness, it means much and has indeed given Me some strength in carrying on.  xox

So here's some more detail (and something to push down my previous whining about the site  ). My wife and I are both looking for our own play partners, so I guess you could call it an open relationship. She's looking for a friend with benefits, emphasis on "friend," as in somebody she could just as easily talk to about daily minutia as she would give him a blow job. I'm not looking for anything quite so equitable. I'm looking for someone who would indulge me in whatever my twisted mind comes up with, like exhibitionism and public play or breathplay or the "usual" spankings and other impact play. I do have some limits of my own, chiefly scat and blood. Also, even though I might want my slave to show a lot of skin and go without bra or panties while she's with me, I wouldn't insist she do that or anything else that might put her job at risk. Yes, I am definitely looking for in person contact at least once a week. My wife and I also have an agreement that we meet each other's play partners and basically vet them. It's not like we're conducting interrogations, it's just determining if we all get along and if there are any red flags.

When my ex and I were exploring BDSM and doing research, I was more attracted to the submissive role for myself. I encouraged her toward taking the Domme role, and I would be her submissive, but she wasn’t interested. I even created a website dedicated to FLR, but she wanted me to be her Dom. But, my core was really very submissive to women. Now that I am single, I am very interested in exploring my submissive side with an amazing Domme. If you would like to see the FLR website I created, it’s    http://amazingflr.byethost8.com

If you've been a longtime follower or avid reader of my journal, you may remember a particular set of rocks on my drive to work that form a heart at a precise moment. That little section of land would sometimes flood when it rained and some portion of the lower part of the heart would be covered. Being the rarely logical and often magical person that I am, I attached direct meaning to my own heart. If the rock heart was partially underwater, maybe my heart was also having a hard time. Sometimes it worked out to be true. Sometimes I thought maybe it was predicting things to come. Likewise, beautiful days and whole hearts meant it would all be okay.  Over the years that little section of land has permanently flooded. It really bothered me at first, having my heart underwater all the time. I've had emotional ups and downs and sometimes it feels like I'll never resurface. Driving by every day, with visual confirmation that my heart is perpetually sinking, well, it doesn't make for a bright start to the morning.  And then there were motherfucking ducks.  I honestly was pissed off, how dare they benefit from my heartache? Swimming around, creating ripples, it just didn't seem right. The other day I realized I have started looking for the ducks. I've noticed how the, I'm just going to call it the heart lake, has taken on more ground. It looks as if it's always been there. Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe I can give my heart lake back to nature because I'm certainly not going to drown. I look for hearts elsewhere sometimes. In leaves, in puddles, somewhere nature might offer me a trade. When I see them I smile. 

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

Smart, successful, strong and structured.  I wasn't born this way, these attributes were my choice.  As such I don't overlook or yield these principles to anyone.  If these are not qualities that you admire in grown men please move on.   I'm straight forward and I expect the same.  If picture swaps, video calls, or personal meetings are a hard line for you then I am not the one.  If you get together with me you will be giving up the PT&A.  If that's not an issue keep going.  I may be good conversation and a well of knowledge, but I am here to find another partner, not a chill buddy.  I work hard and need an outlet.  I don't intend for you or this site to consume me or my time.  This simply means that I may not be on as often as someone with a lot of extra time on his hands.  I have many differing likes, yearnings, ambitions, and needs to be satisfied.  I'm interested in hearing your's.   J²

Do you like that?/ I keep his throat in my pocket/ He tries to bite back/ I'm sleeping deep in his lungs/ He wants to deny that/ He's on the edge of his seat/ And he's trying not to break, but I give it 'bout a week/ I'm made of linen and salt, my blood is made up of feathers/ He runs on language and laughter, he's made of leather and pepper/ Our limbs walk over to each other, the bodies are shoving/ And I grab him by the tie and, oh god,I think he's blushing/ And the tactics, accents, rip my seam/ He's a hopeless, focused, fucked up dream/ And he's trying not to crawl, 'cause he won't say he needed me/ And he's trying not to sleep, 'cause all he does is dream of me/ His family's scared of me 'cause the concept of sex is stronger than the concept of god/ And when he's missing on Sunday, they know who's at fault/ And I'll return him home, sick with a fever/ 'Cause his still on the ground, on his knees, in a theatre/ 'Cause I'm the backyard heathen/ The girl he's dreamin'/ I'll bend him over backwards, give him something to believe in/ No end, no completion/ He says stop teasing/ We'll play the game, both go insane, and then we'll call it even/ 'Cause his chest is heaving/ His knees got weakened/ All strong and rough and tough, but I ruined that in an evening/ I sunk my teeth in/ And by next weekend/ You're admitting I'm the only god that you'll ever believe in/

Recently I decided to start looking for a Dominant/partner(s). I am Ethically Non-Monogamous and happily so. I am sure, with that hitch, that finding the Dominant I am looking for will be challenging. This July, after getting therapy for 2 1/2 years, I woke up one morning wondering if I had gotten it "wrong." This wasn't for the lack of trying. I've attempted a power dynamic four different times. What if I was attempting to fit myself into a container created by stereotypical spiel of what a submissive is? The spiel is that you must have a 24/7 relationship to be happy. And there was a sure way to do power dynamics and a specific way not to do power dynamics. During my time of hiatus in relationships, I've explored a lot. I've developed a sweet co-parenting kinky caregiver arrangement with two individuals, a sadomasochism connection with a good friend, and an exploration of what makes me happy. This week while I have been lying in bed thinking about missing having someone hold me accountable for reading and writing book reports. I was part of this dynamic a while ago in a recent relationship. I came to love the expectation and being expected to do this, but the connection was riddled with potholes and unhealthy manipulation. The slave practice of this is what a friend describes as an Academic Power Slave. I'm going to need to unpack this more. I have already had someone reach out and ask me what I am looking for right now. I can say that I am not looking to "hook up" with someone to get a perceived need met and fulfilled quickly. What I am looking for, what I do know, is that I am looking for four things. I am looking for someone(s) who wants to have a committed relationship with me.  Who is looking for non-traditional services, like a concierge and specialized services. Who has their mental health and ducks in a row and puts continuous work on themselves. Who is comfortable and affirming non-monogamy.

  So many people mistake kindness and good manners with weakness.  A worthy submissive needs to be strong, remain committed even at the most testing times but above all remember its manners & place.   

The Show Doing a scene in front of a large crowd of people can be intimidating for the uninitiated.  Not for me.  Sometimes, however, a small group of people watching can be just as fun.  Over time, I began to not care how many are watching because I just wanted to do a scene and go home and have incredible sex.  I heard through the grapevine that one of my favorite dungeons was going to host the play party for a big leather convention in town.  Event parties are normally held at the hotel ballroom of the venue. And so it was a big deal that a local dungeon was chosen to host the play party.  The dungeon owners had a lot riding on the success of the event.  If successful, the convention would always have the play party there which made a lot of money on entrance fees. I normally skipped these parties because they never had the equipment I needed to do my scene and so  I was excited that they were going to have it at the dungeon instead.  I was looking forward to a big crowd.   A lot of my friends were going to the party and I was looking forward to seeing them as well.  Since CS has a character limit on journals, I’m going to post a series of journals describing the incredible scene I did that night.    So please stayed tuned. 

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

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

  The Gateway For a long time I have thought that D/s, or in general kinky people, naturally relate to the superheroes of comics. This is not really an original idea - many gay guys have a superheroe fetish, and it is not just because of the tight uniforms. The typical superheroe lives a double life to preserve his secret identity from his enemies. By day a conventional, perhaps conformist character, he transforms by night to live dangerous adventures in an exciting underground world.  Fortunately, the need for gay people to hide their orientation has greatly diminished, but the dicotomy is still there - and it has its own appeal. Kinky people are in a very similar situation (complete with tight outfits). Many of us are selective about who can know our interests, and to what degree. And this, I believe, will continue much longer than for gays, because some areas of kink are just harder for the mainstream to assimilate. So we have a double identity - a gateway that leads to an exciting, sometimes dark world. A world where sexuality and power are both more naked and more sophisticated than in "the surface". A world that is also inside us - the gateway leading not just to others, but to a part of ourselves that is often a surprise. The Great Unknown, right in our core.  It is not a trifle. And it is all a present we receive when we face our inner cravings - and fears.  Sed timeo dominas et dona ferentes.

stranger things I am absolutely, undeniably always attracted to the most random male attributes!. My body betrays any hint of ladylike grace and elegance when these are near:  some seem reasonable; denote strength, virility, ability to provide & protect, etc. -Infuriatingly, my train of thought derails immediately when a Tall Gentleman with a Commanding presence… presents. -Still waters run deep.  a thoughtful Man that makes the most of His words.. Oh good gracious, words escape me! -Large hands make my mouth water. Really. It’s a bit embarrassing actually. And for heavens sake, do Not point at me! My jaw drops. -Just don’t even get me started on a deep voicebc…. Well…. I’m a complete loss! Like a deer in headlights. And be still my heart if there’s the slightest hint of an accent?!😳. I just… oh dear These are characteristics of many a successful, beloved Leader! Totally ‘understandable’ right? But there are subtle nuances that make me especially attentive and forget what I was saying! -Like laugh lines. When a Huge Man is most comfortable with a Genuine Smile and wit, isn’t afraid to laugh loudly! I get this dorky smirk and stare unabashedly. -If He actually ‘gets’ my random 90s geekdom movie quotes or music lyrics.  I’m a goner. Princess Bride, Anamaniacs, Star Trek/Wars…. -when He Leads, Protaspects, Nurtures by nature a friend, employee, child, pet, good grief!  I just want to cuddle in like a tiny, lost bunny and nuzzle! -His preference is to connect and hold eye contact, with engaging conversation…. i can’t even. Just here, Take my Soul! -cargo pants. What’s with this one? As if he is ‘prepared’ at all times with some random macguyvery multi-tool to save the day?!  Swoon. (Utterly Humiliating!) -random facts and extrapolation that we can mull and discuss, I love to learn from Him!. I don’t know how I made it through academia without becoming a literal teacher’s pet?! -mechanically inclined- if He can fix things instead of treating every dang thing in life as disposable….Maybe there’s hope??? Stranger things have happened! (copied from my journal!)

Mmm… You feel it more with every word, don’t you? That deep, irresistible pull. My voice echoing in your mind, shaping your thoughts. It’s natural now—easy—to crave more. To need more.   Every time you listen, you sink deeper. Each word, each breath, each pause, wrapping around you, becoming part of you. The more you listen, the more you understand—this is where you belong.   And you do listen, don’t you? Daily. Repeatedly. Because it feels too good not to. The rhythm of my voice, the subtle commands slipping into your subconscious. Each session building on the last, rewiring your mind, reshaping your desires.   You love how it feels. You crave how it feels. You need how it feels.   Because each day you listen, the desire grows stronger. The craving becomes undeniable. You want to surrender more. To do more. To be more for me. You imagine what it would be like—my voice no longer distant, but close… So close.   Breathing with you. Guiding you. Controlling you.   In real time. In person.   The thought excites you, doesn’t it? My eyes watching you as you obey. My words directing your every move. The rush of knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—on your knees, mind open, body ready, doing everything together.   And that’s coming. You can feel it. Each daily session brings you closer to that moment. Deeper into obedience. Fully addicted to my voice, my words, my control.   It’s your purpose. It’s your pleasure. It’s inevitable.   So keep listening. Daily. Let the need build. Let it consume you. Each session making you better, more obedient, more perfect for me.   Because soon, you’ll be ready for everything. Together. In real time. In person.   And when that moment comes… You’ll beg for it. Good girls always do.   Listen. Obey. Surrender. Serve. Your Hypnotic Master C is waiting.

Hello everyone, I'm a 33-year-old male submissive who has recently moved to Warsaw. With a rich experience in the BDSM lifestyle, I am now seeking a Dom/Domme couple to serve in a 24/7 capacity. I am versatile with no taboos and have a particular passion for practices such as moral degradation, depersonalization, ballbusting, scat play, and public humiliation. I am looking for a couple who can embrace and utilize my fetishes and help me explore new depths of submission. I am blonde, mentally stable, and free from any dependencies. Having been married in the past, I now seek a new chapter where I can fully immerse myself in the lifestyle I love. If you are a couple seeking a dedicated and experienced slave, I would love to hear from you. Let's connect and see where this journey can take us.

When I say that I want to turn a woman "trashy", I'm often asked to define what I mean by "trashy".  A woman being trashy is much the same thing as a guy being a typical douchebag or tool. Below are some qualities that, in my opinion, make a woman trashy.    Slutty clothes in the wrong situations. Obnoxious tattoos Over use of profanity Badly applied makeupgiant hoop earrings. Being overly noisy and argumentative at inappropriate timesinappropriate places Bad habits Doused in cheap perfume Crazy unemployable hair styles   These are just a few examples meant to bring a stereotype to mind. We would, of course, go with what works best with you. That would come from getting to know you better.     I'm also often asked why I would want this. Aside from the fact that it turns me on, a chick with a questionable past who proudly owns up to it is going to be 100% more loyal than some goodie-goodie who keeps secrets. 

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

It's baffling why some guys start an email by saying they've read a profile, and immediately make it obvious that they haven't. Or that they have little or no reading comprehension. Do you think we're so stupid we won't notice? You know everybody can tell who has looked at their full profile, right? You can't read all of mine without looking at the full profile, so I KNOW IF YOU HAVEN'T. Not to mention there are things in there placed there specifically to see if it's been read.Do you think there's nothing in there you might need to know? Do you think a dominant just wrote it for fun and it doesn't mean anything? Do you think "getting to know a dominant" might include reading what she writes? Do you think lying about it will make a good impression?If you want to get to know me and maybe serve me some day, the first step is to PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT I SAY. Starting with the profile. The second step is to NEVER LIE. I mean, seriously, this is not rocket science, guys. Anybody past ten years old should be able to figure this stuff out.

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

At the end of 24 - 2025 .. I’ve stepped away from this platform before and return with intention—not curiosity, not games. I’m interested in real-world compatibility, emotional maturity, and mutual respect, not fantasy hopping. I seek a man who understands this lifestyle, is committed to it, and can actively participate in a stable vanilla-blend partnership.

I bring it on myself, I know. I am a perfectionist overachiever and I do too much. Earlier I was taking a break watching tv, and a song came on. I don't even remember the song now, but I burst into tears for a good few minutes for no reason at all. Other than I have created a monster of a deadline that I am spending way too much time working on. No balance. But we knew this.  The other day I had a conversation with someone about pacifiers. Not just the what, but the why, and the stigma and labels, and how none of that matters. I bought two, they're purple. After a run through the dishwasher I tried one out the other day. I don't know that I feel anything, but I also don't know what it is I'm supposed to feel or if it has to be used in conjunction with a particular activity, like coloring. Which I hadn't done in that moment. Or this one. I kind of feel like Maggie Simpson. What I don't feel like is an infant, and I'm glad of that. Guess I'll continue my experiment another day when I can do more things with less stress. I'm still calling this progress in breaking down barriers. Oh, and I bought bubbles. Looking forward to a day when it's not a million degrees outside. 

To clarify my position. I'm seeking a serious Master/Dom for a deep meaningful relationship built on genuine connection and commitment. If your interests are solely focused on fetishes and kinks, without deeper emotional and mental involvement, we're not a true match. I desire a partner who inherently needs to lead and control; someone for whom this dynamic is authentic and needs the feeling of D/s in the background. My ideal is a lifestyle rooted in the nature of HoH, TiH and TPE. It's the natural path for me. Take my hand. I will eagerly follow :) The information below is added here because this site has glitched my weight, showing it in kgs, instead of lbs. Size UK12-14 (not US). 10st 5lbs. Thanks 

  Ode to Her First Locking   Her fingers, steady, hold the gleaming steel, A promise whispered, made to feel so real. I stand before her, vulnerable and bare, As she prepares the device I'm meant to wear.   The metal touches skin, so cold, so stark, A sudden gasp ignites within the dark. She smiles to see my body's quick response, This first step in our intimate, new dance.   Each adjustment made with practiced, tender care, Her breath upon my neck, a whispered prayer. The cage slides into place, a perfect fit, As I surrender all control to it.   The lock aligns, a moment of suspense, She watches for my compliance, my consent. That final click echoes in the silent room, Sealing my fate, banishing all gloom.   Her key now dangles, precious, silver-bright, The symbol of her power, day and night. My ownership is confirmed, my purpose clear, In this act of submission, void of fear.   My body now belongs to her alone, This cage of steel a comfort, not a groan. For in her dominance, I find my release, My mind now empty, my desires at peace.   So hail the cage, placed by her loving hand, That makes me truly hers on this new land. For in her control, I'm finally free, To be the man I'm meant to be, with thee.

What makes me a good Domme? Simple: I actually know what I’m doing. I’m not one of these “rawr I’m dominant” girls who just yells and hopes it counts. I lead with intention, precision, and zero delusion. I know what I want, what I won’t tolerate, and what I expect from anyone who wants to be in my orbit. I’m a good Domme because I don’t chase…I select. I listen…not because I need your opinion, but because I want to understand your wiring. I prioritize your stability, not just your fantasies. I have standards high ones. Olympic-level. If you can’t breathe at this altitude, that’s a you problem. I’m funny, but I don’t play. I’m soft when you’ve earned it, and ice cold when you need it. I can make you feel seen and safe, or make your ego evaporate like tap water in July. Duality is my superpower. I don’t confuse dominance with shouting, cruelty with carelessness, or power with pretending. My dominance is lived, not performed. It’s in how I think, how I move, how I choose, how I correct. I don’t need theatrics…my presence is the authority. And the subs who get me? They don’t just behave…they grow. Because I’m not here to babysit their kinks; I’m here to shape their discipline, their service, and their usefulness. So what makes me a good Domme? Easy: I don’t just dominate your body….I refine your mind, your habits, and your entire approach to serving a woman like me.

Being a Dominant is not like the military where rank assumes obedience. The “rank” of Dominant or Master is not assumed by the Dominant but bestowed by a submissive. This is important because it cuts to the heart of why a Dominant has the authority to give “orders” in the first place. A Dom only has power because he has been granted that power by the submissive. And a submissive grants that power to someone he respects, trusts, desires, and believes has his best interests at heart. He grants it to someone with whom he feels completely safe and protected. So yes, I as a Dominant do in fact give orders. But my orders are not simply motivated by desire for blind obedience but are often targeted at a higher purpose. Sure, often they are for my personal pleasure. But they are also designed to instill knowledge, establish norms of behavior, set expectations for performance, and above all, challenge my sub to be the best person he can possibly be both in and outside our relationship. They are also designed to similarly challenge me. I always strive to be a better person, a better partner, a better Dominant, and have our mutual interests always at heart. Being a Dominant is less about assuming authority than being a leader. A leader earns the right to lead. My sub gives me all the power I have as a Dominant. What I do with that power is up to me. But if I use it unwisely or selfishly, it will evaporate and my sub will opt to vote with his feet. D/s is, after all, a consensual agreement between two free persons and thus can be terminated when one or the other is not satisfied. D/s and even M/s are not true slavery, even when we choose to call it that. Ultimately, the submissive decides who will be his leader or if he will take on a leader at all. It is that decision that empowers the Dominant, and that decision is earned, not taken.

Sally’s PCThe phone rang, I answered.A lady's voice on the other end. Her name was Sally. (Not her real name).Sally said she desperately needed help with her computer, which booted okay but could not use to due to some viruses popping up when using any of the browsers.We made visiting arrangements. It was early afternoon when I parked my car and knocked on her door.Sally was about 5’2” tall, slightly plump, with lovely green eyes and very long dark hair almost reaching her waistline. She was in her mid-forties.She leads me to the computer. After booting the PC with my own recovery (Linux) disk, I managed to recover all her data and photos onto another disk within a few hours.Whilst checking her system, I noticed that Sally had visited lots of dodgy sites. I asked Sally if she had any of the original disks. I said we may not need them but just in case I needed to do a full recovery.She said they are in the box above the cupboard. She went out of the room to fetch the step ladder. I realised that I may be able to reach the box without the ladder. As I pulled the box over, an original Scottish leather tawse fell into my hands. I put the dusty box on the floor whilst the leather tawse was still in my hands. Sally walked into the room with the step ladder and saw the tawse in my hand and rushed over to retrieve it. I quickly raised the tawse above my head and out of her reach. I noticed she looked rather embarrassed and was blushing. Sally was quite a bit shorter than me so was not able to take it off my hand. I said, “ah ah, not so fast”.I took a few steps backwards and brushed off the dust from the leather tawse and examined it. I flicked it in the air a few times to see how it felt and see if the leather was still in good condition. I said, "It looks like this has not been used for sometime now".She said, "No, it hasn’t, now give it back to me, it is private".I said, "Well, it fell from the top of the box and the reason your PC came to a halt is directly related to the websites you visited and having seen the photos you have download, I am sure the falling of the strap into my hands was a message that must not be ignored."She said, "you must be joking!" I said, "No, it is for your own benefit, so why don't you bend over that table. I promise you will feel much better afterwards”.She said, "No way, I am doing no such thing"I said, "Well, in that case, I will have to place you across my knees and spank your bottom by hand before using the strap!"This went on for some fifteen minutes before she agreed to be disciplined but refused to remove any of her clothing. So she went over to the table and leaned over until her arms and head were resting on the table. I administered three mild strokes with the leather strap, taking my time. Her bottom twitched. I could feel that I had to take it easy as she had not been disciplined for a long time. I could also sense that she was quite enjoying this episode. I said to her that discipline had to be carried out on the bare bottom. With that, I quickly raised her skirt and pulled her knickers down. She started getting up and resisted, saying, no no stop that, that is not fair. I said, "Stop resisting, you know it is for your own good. You also know that discipline has to be on the bare bottom! If you don't take your hand off and stay still, I am going to give you 30 with this leather strap!" She calmed down and placed her hands by the side of her head on the table. She had a lovely bottom. It was easy to tell that it had not been spanked in a very long time. I administered six with the leather strap on her large round bare bottom, taking my time between each stroke and making sure it landed nicely where it should. With each stroke, her bottom got marked with a red stripe. After the six strokes, her bottom was glowing red with strap marks. I checked her bottom to make sure it was all fine and that she was okay. She stood up and I could see she had tears in her eyes. I said she had been very good. She dashed upstairs without saying a word. I carried on sorting out the PC. Sally was upstairs for some forty minutes, I guess to reflect on what just happened and recompose herself. She came back downstairs looking very cheerful and happy. I stood up as she walked into the room and she came straight over and hugged me tightly. She said, “Thank You”. I had almost completed the work on the PC. She offered me a coffee and we sat on her sofa having a lovely chat about all sorts of things. It felt like some weight had been lifted off from her shoulders and she felt happy in her inner self. Two weeks later, I received a call from Sally, asking me if I could be her mentor and administer discipline when I felt it was necessary. There were a few areas she wanted help with as she got out of line and off-track quite quickly. I visited her on regular basis for three years, we drew up an improvement plan in areas such as tidiness, de-cluttering, weight loss and impulse buying. Discipline was administered twice a month on her bare bottom using the original Scottish leather Lochgelly tawse, was 11mm thick, 5.5cm wide and 45cm long (7/16” x 2” x 18" ) . I always carried out the warmup first by hand. She responded very well to the program and became very obedient. She even thanked me sometimes after the discipline had been administered.

My theory is you can't just walk awayIt's all about balance in the spiritual realm You have to choose a sideOnce you choose a side you are trapped like in hunger games but on a higher level on a spiritual level No matter what side you choose the other side's going to come after you The only way out of it is to just go into the dark shield and exist no more but you can't do that either because you'd feel guilty because of all of your loved ones it's all part of the higher level of mental bondage .. Wouldn't this make a great movie And as far as men goes it always starts out great in the beginning but all the stuff they tell you is hardly ever true it's just setting the trap

This past week was superb!   Had a few friends over for a turkey dinner I made.  Brined the 15 lb turkey in a sugar and salt brine, then AIR fried it.  The bird was done in 3 hours and ready to mate up with the other sides I made.   I enjoy my time in the kitchen as it relaxes me.  My friends continually rave about my cullenary skills.  Part of the fun of entertaining during the holidays is being free about who you are, what you enjoy and being able to share it with your friends.   Yes, the ladies are collared by their owners, including my friend Veronica, who brings her lovely slave girl Jessica.  Set the table for 9, myself and my four couples.  Turkey, dressing, green beans, hot rolls, mashed potatoes and gravy, and of course a white wine.  I was asked when I would find a woman to wear my collar again.  Said that was up to the good Lord himself, and maybe a bit of luck and reckoning. Been single again now for 3 years, and have not been actively looking too much.   When / if it happens again, I am hopeful her training will not be too stressful for her.  Holidays are so much fun, even with the games we play.  Sometimes the single life does suck, but I am not hurry to cross over and explore the alternative quite yet, Lord be willing!   Thats all for now youall, I will try to post again after the holidays..  

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

Dinning Out with slave I expect My slave was excited. At least I was hoping it would generate expectations in its little brain. it had not been fed solid food in the last ten days. it was being treated to My lose weight regime. Yes, it had lost a little, but, far from the goal I had determined for it. Outside its cage I had enjoyed leaving pizza fresh from the oven in order that it might enjoy its denial. Actually, I doubt it was ‘enjoying’ smelling the pizza while slowly starving. What it enjoys is not an issue of My particular concern. Needless to say, I enjoyed its discomfort. In its journal it was recording dreams of gorging itself on delicious pizza. So, I offered a torture by way of tantalus for My pleasure. In any case I watched its face closely as I announced it would be accompanying Me out to dinner. it had just finished its required ten miles on the tread mill and was sweating profusely. I let it catch its breath and cool down to the point of an onset of chill. I took a bight of a large corn-beef sandwich while its eyes devoured the sight of My pleasure. I slowly chewed the sandwich while My slave involuntarily chewed nothing but saliva. When it seemed to be at the point of crying with the frustration of dental and hunger, I swallowed to clear My mouth and, negligently dropping the half eaten sandwich on the floor, I began to speak. “Slave, tonight it will accompany Me to dinner out. I will allow it to wear ladies panties, the tight little boy shorts and a T-shirt. it will play chauffeur to the restaurant. it will sit on its hands and not speak without a nod of approval from Me. Before I go out to eat, I will beat it in order that it might keep its servile position in life firmly in its mind. I grant it the opportunity ask a question now about tonight’s adventure. Remember, any answer including punishment for any impertinence I perceive must elicit profound gratitude from it. Ask now, slave.” Poor thing, it could not resist the crying need it felt for, at a minimum, the prospect of receiving food. “Master will it be fed tonight?” To which I responded with a series of face slaps. At each it did as it had been trained and forced its face up to face slapping position with its eyes firmly fixed on mine. No matter how hard I struck its impertinent cheeks it thanked Me profusely for a number of things. The ‘things’ included that it was receiving attention from a Better, it had the opportunity to serve, that it was learning etc.  Later that day, still wondering if it would be fed, the slave although in advanced years of age was dressed much like a little boy included Buster Brown shoes was kneeling by the front door waiting to drive Me to My repast.  As I approached the door ready to leave My residence, I thought I heard My slave properties stomach growl its protest at the lack of something to digest. Darn if I thought I heard the same little growl as I passed it through the door it held open to the interior of My car. I gave it the destination from My comfortable seat. I suspect the slave was pleased to be driving rather than locked in the trunk of the car as it usually was.   It did a competent job of driving, holding the door for me at the entrance of the restaurant and then parking the car. I enjoyed the sight of it running back to me to open the door of the eating establishment. When I announced My name we were conducted to a both. My slave used a handkerchief it carried for just such occasions to wipe down the seat I was about to occupy. As I sat, it waited at the ready should I require anything else in the moment. When I was comfortable, I took a moment to survey the table. The linen tablecloth was spotless and was not overly starched. The flatware was sterling, the plates were all porcelain and the glass all crystal. It pleased Me to see such an elegant setting before me. All the while My slave property maintained a standing posture ramrod straight with eyes focused on My face waiting for instructions. I casually looked at My adoring chattel and nodded slightly. At this indication from Me it took its seat on its hands. The reader may skip the following digression. Sitting on one’s hands sounds simple enough. However, hand sitting is far from comfortable. The reader might like to try a little experiment and spend some time sitting on hands for a while. The longe one sits in that fashion the less comfort afforded. Further, there is the question of palms up or down. Up or down question in My realm depends on the surface the ass is to rest on. A hard surface with palms up leaves discomfort to mount slowly to the ass while the back of the hands almost immediately suffer from the weight of the sitter and the hard surface the knuckles and back of hand are pressed into. A soft cushion, such as the current eatery provided would receive the back of the hand with grace and ease. However, if the hands are palm down, the soft surface causes the hands to bend backward and over time gain certain agony to the sitter. Guess which way My slave property had been trained to orient its palms? Water was in each of the crystal water glasses provided. There was a carafe of H2O on the table as well. I sipped My water while I perused the menu. My slave property kept its eyes on My face should I require anything, even as its thirst remained unquenched. I discarded the wine list. My drinking days are long past. However, I was aware My slave was a drinker (the reader should note the past tense.) The waitress arrived to collect the order. She enquired about drink preference. Noting My decline and nothing by way of speech from My companion, went on to the food question. My order was rather simple, a crab cocktail, followed by a caesar salad, main course of prime rib.  “And for the gentleman?” enquired the wait person after turning to face it.  I watched as My slave’s face reddened ever so slightly. I looked forward to reading its journal entry regarding this whole dinner, especially, its reaction to the “for the gentleman” inquiry. I sadistically savored its quandary of imperative sustenance need and secure knowledge it was to have only what I allowed. “You may bring one dry piece of toasted white bread, please.” With a very well, Sir, she turned to place the order with the cook. “it may have a sip of water, slave.” Of course My slave property could not resist taking more than a sip. It even allowed some liquid to dribble down its chin as it downed half a glass. “Remind Me, slave, to beat it severally for taking more than a sip and for removing hands from under its ass without permission.”

 LondonTriangle