On The Possibility of a Dream When I was 20something, I discovered Female Domination like a supernova in the night sky. It bathed my thoughts in a different light, it revealed hidden meanings in the way I felt, and it made it seem like anything was possible. It was strongly sexual - physical. Almost like a drug that charged me and made everything more vivid, more alive. In the center of this supernova was an archetypal vision - Woman, the essence of all I desired, the goal of all my efforts. The embodyment of all good and pleasure. Impressive as this was, I think it was incomplete. Now it's been 30 years, and with the help of several intelligent and perceptive Dominas, i can see more clearly. i realize that this raw power, the blind almost biological impulse, is made human, civilized, and meaningful by service - from bending to and serving a real woman. Not an archetype. A human being with her dreams, fears, hopes, and yes weaknesses. Does this mean I think my initial vision was wrong? No - I think that almost primeval response is the natural fuel for a rock-solid relationship. It is the capacity of seeing my partner as the channel, the embodyment of that feminine divine energy, that can charge our whole relationship and add layers of meaning "vanilla" relationships lack. Is this a dream? Maybe. But I know my soul is religious and its dream religion is the woman i would share my life with.

I smiled, as I pushed you on the bed, seeing as your body hit the pillow top and sink into its softness.I felt you, as you body contorted when I ran my tongue over the hood of your clit, like a pace horse.I was turned on, at the way you looked at me ging when I slid between your thighs.I melted when you ease into your role as you were given direction.I got excited, as I felt you explode after trying so hard to hold on to that feeling.I am proud, as you walk away naked legs shaking like a newborn calf.I feel relief when you put your head on my chest with a wicked smile on your lipsI can be at peace, knowing that the morning will come and you will still be mine.

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

Freebeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees... In speaking with many here, the reduction of stessors often comes up. Check your Thyroid TSH levels!  Mui importante! The Science of Breath - life changing, affirming and regulating! https://www.yogajournal.com/yoga-101/science-breathing/ https://www.unm.edu/~lkravitz/Article%20folder/Breathing.html#:~:text=Respiration%20Mechanics%20102,to%20the%20lungs)%20respiration%20occurs. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6137615/   Girls and guys - want to know when a woman bleeds every month?  Know her birth day.  This is a golden nugget of knowledge society keeps us from knowing in order to keep us enslaved, fearful and reactionary.  There are variables, of course.  Stress....hormonal imbalances....medications....being in close proximity to other women, either in family or work.  If the other women are more dominant, they will set another womans cycle off or if their birth day is near to yours, then they can trigger yours.  You're welcome.

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. 

NEW!!  THE MEDIEVAL DUNGEON - ITALY The Medieval Dungeon is fully equipped with suspended bed, stocks, St Andrew’s Cross and full length spanking bench and bondage table and more. There is plenty of opportunity for play, pleasure and pain! The Medieval Boudoir is also available with two beds should you wish to chill out away from the Dungeon area. There is even plenty of space on the grounds for BDSM outdoor play and camping if it's your thing freedom and privacy guaranteed. The Medieval Dungeon is available to be booked for long decadent weekends or you can tailor your retreat to suit yourself by arrangement from the end of March. BDSM * CFNM * Domination * Flogging * Discipline * Corrective Therapy * Bondage * Spanking * & much more…bondage table so there will plenty of opportunity for play, pleasure and pain! IM HERE TO BOOK YOUR TIME IN THIS BEAUTIFUL RETREAT I shall be inresidence from the 26th March should you wish to visit me.   

the perfect scenario in person for me as a little girl submissive, a paragraph.         it would be in person and old school where i'm at home maybe working 4 hours tops and he provides the majority i honor worship and am in awe of what and who he is. i have no problems kissing his feet praying for him following his lead and know he's the safest man out there so he can touch me whenever he wants and i can trust him to make the decisions

No, I am not looking for a sugar baby and I will not entertain those intent on wasting time. If your profile is blank, it’s highly unlikely you’ll get a reply.   What I am looking for:   A genuine connectionThose who can communicate and contribute to a conversation (yes, I will take the time to get to know you and expect the same in return)Honesty and transparencySomeone who has a solid sense of herselfEagernessVulnerabilityIntelligence   What I am NOT looking for:   Those with fake profiles (they’re easy to spot)Time wastersThose who misrepresent themselves in their profileThose who lack the ability to communicate (having to ask 20 questions to start or maintain a conversation is painful)Those who think they know everythingJudgmental people (if you don’t like my profile, move along)

I've been back and forth, since before Thanksgiving , with the contract I have on a cabin In WV. Unfortunately the agent was a flake. Over the years , I've bought and sold homes. This agent was a hot mess. Finally had to get the broker involved, and replace the her.   The present one is on the ball. D and I drove to the cabin and he checked it top to bottom. There were concerns from the home inspection, and he calmed my mind. He said the place had great bones, the windows were all in good shape, the hot water heater was two years old , gas furnace will out live me, metal roof is fairly new... There is a cottage on the property, off the back set back from the cabin.  Its about eight hundred sq. feet , plus a screened in front porch! Perfect for my father, and he can't fall off. It has a kitchen, dining room, living room, bedroom and full bath. It too has a new metal roof.   Added an addendum  for a few things, we'll see if they accept or counter. Saying a little prayer and crossing my fingers.   M.

6 Minths Post 6 months post break up. Post world upside down post everything. The what if is strong for some reason  If I'd come home early and just started packing, said i know you've been cheating, I'm done. If I'd stopped fighting sooner. If If If All of them don't matter, it's done now. I am sorry I put you to the side I'm sorry your drinking got so badI'm sorry we lost us.I'm sorry I wasn't enough.

A trip to the vending machine   I'd like to share this little experience I recently had the honor of partaking in with a willing local masochist friend. If she happens to read this and recognize herself in the story, knowing her, she would love the extra humiliation :)   We were spending some time in a hotel room together when I informed my friend that I have an exciting and cruel ordeal planned for her today. First I ordered her on all 4 on the floor at my feet and removed her butt plug before placing it in her mouth. Next a hose and with a funnel was placed in her ass and I emptied my full bladder completely in her rectum. This warm piss enema was plugged with an inflatable plug and her ass inflated. Next I ordered her to stand and clamped her nipples painfully, finally a humming dildo slid into her pussy which was already dripping wet. I began to dress her slowly, soaking up her discomfort as the bra went over her clamped nipples and the jeans zipped up in place over the dildo and butt plug. Her eyes never left me the whole time, the butt plug still in her mouth where I had left it, I saw her pupils widening as I finally began to apply the face mask over her mouth and nose and it dawned on her that not only is she leaving the hotel room retaining a piss enema, double plugged and clamped, but she'll also be sucking on her used butt plug the whole time.   "Here are your instructions, fucktoy, now that you're properly outfitted for a walk. I am thirsty and I would like a soda from the vending machine. The bad news I have for you is that there aren't any on this floor, so be a good girl and walk up the stairs, grab me a coke and yourself a drink, then hurry back-here is my card. I don't want you using the elevator,  only stairs, and when you are back kneel at the door, knock and wait to be let in" She nods quickly in the affirmative as she begins to shuffle towards the door trying to reconcile the various sources of ovetstimulation.   I watch her with excitement as she disappears slowly down the hallway towards the stairs, each step full of anguish for my sadistic pleasure. When she returns and  I see her waiting for me obediently kneeling at the hotel door, a huge smile spreads across my face as I step aside holding the door for her to crawl in with our sodas.   I lean forward and pick her up in my arms, whispering "good girl", as I set her on the bed, pulled her jeans down and placed my tongue directly on her twitching clit, licking and sucking until she exploded under me. 

As a late bloomer through high school, I felt like an ugly duckling so I avoided romance by focusing on science and sports. After college I met a free spirit who encouraged me to wear revealing swimsuits, even pushing me to strip for her friend's birthday party. Having women go gaga over me and ask me to wear speedos was mind blowing! However, this shifted my thinking from being a shy nice guy to being someone who could deliberately seduce just to satisfy my urges, making me feel guilty and even fearful. Then an older friend a hippie doctor convinced me that mental chastity was healthier than chasing bikinis or jerking off. She claimed that I suffered from PE and that Tantra taught how withholding ejaculation during intercourse was best for both partners. She knew I liked bondage so she began tempting me into accepting domination because she discovered she liked the power that my jingling keyring gave her after having escaped an abusive marriage. Sometimes she put me to work in her garden and cleaning her house while she teased me with words and costumes. I stopped looking at sex as hormonally necessary and starting seeing submission as respect. But after a year without normal sex and no actual device to enforce my agreement to stop masturbating, testosterone won so I neglected my commitment and wandered off feeling very alone. Thankfully she taught me a lot about my self which likely saved me from some serious life disappointments. I think I gave her enough confidence to begin dating again so I hope I also helped her heal.

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You tell me not to worry.  But are we not all motivated by fear? Or desire? Are they two sides of the same coin? I crave climax but it is harder to come by. Do I need a new toy, or is the toy no longer enough? It's a strange thing to consider my libido as a post-menopausal woman? At whatever age, we are never properly balanced, hormonally. Our modern diet and lifestyle keep us out of whack. I am probably lucky I have a libido at all!  Should I tell you about the couple at the end of the bar? She was at least mid-40's, he was maybe a bit older, but both in fine fettle, and good looking. They seemed like a pair of old socks, but then he started groping her, his big hand planted just below her right breast, fingers spread wide. He rubbed her belly like she was a pet, but then would bring his hand back up. When he took his hand away, she crossed her arms. Was she trying to keep him away? When they stood to leave he wrapped himself around her from behind and she asked if he had always been such a big cuddler. She had a British accent, thus the use of cuddle.  Was I jealous? On my other side was a 9 year old boy with his dad. Equally entertaining!  I thought I would keep strolling, see what else I might wander into, but I decided to call it a day.  Now I can enjoy the Sunday scaries in the privacy of my own home. 

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.

"So into you" or why ification is not as flattering as some guys think it is A post from my group- from Jan 2022 ___________ The subject today will be centered around ification, and how lack of the right actions is getting in the way of what you want. Recently my day was spent prepping for Mom spending the night, which mostly meant me continuing to organize, clean and just generally improving the space in my sewing room, (the only real spare room) which has a futon, and most importantly, DOORS, so she can have privacy and quiet from my cats. Now, being ADD, I work better with music and company, so I put music on that she and I can both enjoy- a Pandora station based on the Doobie Brothers I started just for her. And being who I am, I tend to listen to lyrics, and then often find myself analyzing them. Usually, I'm specifically analyzing the relationship failings described in them. It doesn't always stop me enjoying the music, but sometimes I recognize the stalkery mindsets that filled our airwaves when I was young and impressionable. As were the guys who were listening. It's not surprising that we all grew up thinking these kinds of unhealthy behaviors and expectations were normal, and even romantic. Songs like Boston's "Let me take you home tonight," where a guy is explaining to a woman he's never actually met before that he's basically been stalking her and built a strong fantasy and expectations about who she is, and now he feels that she should absolutely feel both flattered, and obligated to have sex with him. "You must understand this, I've watched you for so long, that I feel I've known you, I know it can't be wrong," and goes on to say "I'm dreamin of your sweet love tonight, let me take you home tonight." So… he's been watching her for a long time without talking to her, decided who she was without ever having a single conversation, and, of course, imagining sex with her. A lot. And he tells her so, over and over and over. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing because I want it. Because that's always what is really going on there. Always the focus and end focus. Nah... that's not creepy AT ALL. Geesh. Today, it was "So Into You" by Atlanta Rhythm Section. Different band, different song, same thought process - I saw you, I was attracted, I've decided who you must be, and I can't think about anything except sex with you - only this time, they seem to want to make it her fault. Now, at first, what struck me was "could not catch your eyes" and "stand here helplessly hoping you get into me." Which just makes me ask 'What did he actually try?' I end up envisioning Toothless in How to Train Your Dragon 2, dancing around like a lunatic and freaking out the of his affections. Let's hope it wasn't like that. But honestly, it sounds like he really didn't try much. He admits that he's 'standing helplessly' rather than walking across the room and saying hello. Which sounds a lot like complaints I've heard from guys before. "I don't know how to talk to women" and that's where it ends, rather than trying to solve that. I mean, there are classes, there are workshops, there is therapy, etc. There are options. Why would someone not even try to fix the thing that keeps them from finding companionship if they are stating that they want it? Passive is not a good look. Or as has been said "faint heart ne'er won fair lady." Unfortunately, the closer we look at the lyrics, the creepier it gets. All this woman did was walk into a room. Suddenly, he's obsessed. He "can't think of nothing else." He says "Love the things you do" when so far, all she's done so far was exist in the same room. She's "driving him crazy," "thinking about how it's going to be" and he's "Gonna love her all over, over and over." So he's not really thinking about getting to KNOW her. He's focused on this fantasy he has of who she is, and what he wants to do to her. She's a beautiful woman. But somehow, she's not really a person. I mean, he's impressed by her, and he wants something from her. But not enough to make the effort to interact with her as human being. So he's "helpless" and "driven crazy" and "captured" but is just standing around "hoping." Worst part is that I really do like the song. Musically, and I like his voice, and the moody, kinda slow jazz feel to it. Shame about the message. I do get it - sometimes you see someone who just looks so cool it's hard to figure out how to approach so that they will be as impressed by you as you are by them. I was told that I'm intimidating... decades before I knew that Dominant was a thing. And the problem isn't that he thinks she's beautiful with "voodoo in the vibe." It's that he's turning that into something SHE's doing - "driving him crazy," and turning his insecurity into "helpless." And the entire thing is portrayed as flattering, and romantic, and a compliment to her. Because isn't that what women are supposed to want? For men to desire them? For her beauty to give her power somehow? For her appearance to add to her value to men? Because "The Male Gaze" is always supposed to be a woman's focus. And what a man feels when gazing is her responsibility. And anything a man might do because of that feeling when gazing at her is her fault. (cont)

I'm English. Where the language comes from. Dominant is an adjective. It describes a thing. As in, "The dominant person." It commonly gets shorted into noun form, as a thing unto itself. As in, "The dominant slapped some knowledge into the illiterate." To dominate is a verb. It's a doing word. You use it like, "He dominated the test." "She dominated the opposition." "The dominant dominated the submissive." When you find yourself writing the words, "I am a dominate," what you are actually saying is, "I am an illiterate twat who doesn't know the difference between a verb and an adjective or noun. Now please ignore that I can't apply enough thinking to use the language without hurting myself and please trust me with your safety instead." Should you find yourself writing, "I am seeking my ideal dominate," what you are really saying is, "I am not seeking a literate disciplinarian as they would be forced to beat me until all of their toys broke." As an Englishman, it goes without saying that the above is presented with hyperbolic sarcasm. But if we're struggling with nouns vs verbs, trying to explain sarcasm is unlikely to go well.

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

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

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==94% Submissive91% Rope bunny90% Voyeur71% Exhibitionist70% Primal (Prey)66% Experimentalist 60% Non-monogamist58% Slave44% Masochist 43% Boy/Girl40% Brat 37% Switch36% Vanilla30% Pet17% Ageplayer 16% Degradee

In the tapestry of relationships, polyamory stands out as a distinct weave, one that has graced my life in unexpected ways. Today, I sit back to reflect on my experiences in MfM and fMf dynamics and the deeply transformative impact they have had on me.   Poly relationships, particularly those involving MfM or fMf dynamics, are not merely about the number of partners but the depth of connection, understanding, and mutual respect. I've always felt a special allure towards such relationships. It's an intricate dance of balance, emotion, and trust.   James, my late husband, played an instrumental role in my introduction to this world. He wasn't just my husband; he was a guiding force, teaching me the beauty of unconditional love, free from societal shackles. The way he introduced me to the world of BDSM, and by extension, poly dynamics, was subtle, considerate, and built on a foundation of trust. It wasn't about sharing for sharing's sake, but about expanding our horizons, about understanding that love isn't finite, and that sharing doesn't diminish but rather amplifies affection.   I remember our first experience. The trust between James and me was the anchor, holding us steady amidst the tumultuous waves of uncertainty. He would often whisper affirmations in my ear, reminding me of my worth, my beauty, and my agency. "You are in control," he would say, even when introducing me to a new partner. This wasn't about him, or even about the new partner; it was about *us*, as a unit, exploring, learning, and growing.   In an fMf dynamic, there was a certain softness, a delicate touch. The presence of another woman introduced a different layer of intimacy. It was in these moments that I found a sisterly bond, a deep understanding, which went beyond the realms of physicality. On the other hand, the MfM dynamic provided a sense of security, of being cherished, surrounded by an aura of protection from both sides.   But why do I like it? It's the feeling of expansiveness, the sensation that my heart isn't confined to a singular beat but reverberates with multiple rhythms. James ensured that I never felt ified. It wasn't about mere physicality but an exploration of emotions, boundaries, and profound connections. The journey made me more comfortable in my skin, understanding and accepting my desires, and seeing them not as taboo but as natural extensions of my persona.   James always reminded me of my worth. His unwavering support ensured I never felt "less than" or "used." Each experience was a shared one, a journey that we undertook together. There were moments of doubt, of course, moments where societal conditioning would seep in, whispering words of judgment. But with James by my side, those whispers were quickly silenced. His belief in the beauty and authenticity of our choices bolstered my confidence.   In the end, poly dynamics taught me the multifaceted nature of love. They made me realize that love isn't a zero-sum game. One can love multiple people, in varied ways, without diminishing the love for any single individual. It's about expansion, about realizing the boundless capacity of the human heart.   In these relationships, I've learned more about myself than I ever imagined. They taught me resilience, understanding, and most importantly, self-acceptance. Through the layers of shared experiences, laughter, tears, and deep conversations, I found a version of myself that's unapologetic, bold, and incredibly comfortable in her skin.  

Smh at the multitude of bois within 50 miles that approach, engage,  insist they want to meet .. until we set a date and time, then backpedal and postpone or cancel with every excuse in the book .. Sooooo...I'm pretty much at the pt I don't wont cant believe anything anyone idk irl says cyber.   If you are one of the very rare pearls here that does want real-time Ds interactions come meet Me at the munch on Thursday 9 29 at Spins in Peekskill 6:30ish. It's an arcade with a bar in the back. I'm the One with long multicolored hair. .. restaurant upstairs is Fin and Brew if that's easier to goo gle Que sera .. or as history here proves, most likely not We.Shall.See

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

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

Suddenly he pulls away and your mind races with concerns that you did something wrong.  Without hesitation his mouth takes in one nipple warming it up with a gentle suction and flickering of his tongue.  The sucking stops and you feel his tongue passing through your cleavage to the other nipple to give it attention that it deserves. Again his mouth leaves your yearning breast and his tongue goes back to the valley between them. His tongue again started its journey down to your belly button making sure to circle it several times and finally penetrating it.  You suddenly realize his hands were cupping your ass cheeks but was too distracted earlier to notice their firm grip.     His finger tips now over the top of your lacy panties he again starts moving slower than molasses and begins to pull them down, while his tongue begins to wonder around.  Just as you think he’s going to take them all the way to the floor he stops halfway down to your knees and his tongue pulls away. Again you fret trying to figure out what you did wrong to make him stop. He places his forehead against you just below your bellybutton sending his heat all through your pelvic area.  His warm hands gently slide between your legs like a wedge or a person praying.  His hands now pressing on the most inner part of your thighs and his thumbs slide across your lower lips. You suddenly realize your  juices are gushing by now. Knowing his hands and your panties are dripping wet he pulls them off, hoping he doesn’t throw them towards a wall to see if they stick. He whispers in your ear, DON’T MOVE! and walks away,  now what runs through your mind. He returns and gives you another little kiss on the lips. As you’re standing there you feel a feather touching your right ear, it goes under your chin and back up to your left ear. It moves to your nose the down to your chest. The feather gently caresses around your left breast then over to your right breast.  The feather ventures to each nipple circling them several times.  Down towards the belly button it travels circling it several times.  The feather heads to your hip and then down the outside of your leg around your ankle and back up the inside of your leg cross up above your pubic hair carefully making sure not to get it wet.  He takes your hand in his and reminds you to keep your eyes closed. You recognize the way to your bedroom and he places you next to your bed. 

When you slip into the darkness  When you fall from grace Will it hurt as bad as they say? Or will it wake up hidden dreams? Can one transmute pain into pleasure? Can the Fallen One really give you something for your soul?  Will I ever truly wake up to the truth?  If so who's truth am I gonna believe?  Which path is better for me to travel? Staying in the middle is hard.... After all they say it's one or the other. Can't I blend into a new being. A silver being. A being of tranquility and adventure?  I'm a Woman. I'm a rebel. I'm a sweetheart. I can be cold and closed off. I can be lovely.  When will I get the help I seek? No not a man to control me. I don't need that.  No a therapist either, I already have that.  There's something missing... A piece of me that has been ripped out and left a hole. This hole doesn't fill because I don't know what was there to begin with.  When you let others dictate your life, you lose yourself and wrap yourself in their ideas of you. But when you wake up.... Well you realize you don't and we're not what they said you were.  Do you or will you ever find yourself again under the mess?  Will the light shine or do I keep my eyes shut and stay in the dark.  I love them all.... Yet I love no one... I guess I'm a contradiction 

Based on a previous relationship some time ago: Saturday Night Sunday Morning   It’s raining outside and I curse it for keeping me awake, a lie to myself as I know I never really sleep when you are out. I reach to turn on the light beside the bed and am reminded of the lock you have on me as it rubs my upper thigh. The clock tells me it’s coming upto 2:30 in the morning.   I roll onto my back wondering if you are asleep in the bed you have chosen for the evening, asleep in the arms of another. Or perhaps not asleep, in which case you will be ……….. occupied.   I try to put those thoughts out of my mind, and fail.   Thoughts of you crowd my mind whenever you are from me, thoughts of the curve of your thigh, the look in your in your eye, the taste of you, the way your waist tapers just above your hips, god that makes you so fuckable.   It’s coming up to three in the morning now and I have convinced myself that you are asleep after your exertions.   Your exertions…….. I can’t stop thinking of what you could be doing with whoever he is, in my mind’s eye I see you on all fours with your back arched receiving him your face wracked with the pure pleasure of it, I have seen that look when you are approaching the peak of your orgasm. It’s an addictive sight and a special reward for the man who gives it to you.   I decide to get up and get myself something, descending to the kitchen in a bath robe. With each step I take on the stairs I feel the weight of your restraining lock on me. It’s been ten days now and I have never felt so ripe, kept swollen and aching for you right down to the root of me.   In the kitchen I can see the dark rain running down the window panes as I make myself a cup of tea, coffee would be such a bad move right now.   I sit on a kitchen stool looking at a picture of you laughing and smiling with friends, the image captured is a night out and you are looking so elegant, so beautiful so enticing.   As I sip my tea I find myself gazing at your smile, you have such beautiful lips. My eyes follow their curve to the corners of your mouth. I feel myself absorbed in your every detail.   I love kissing you, feeling you on my lips, your wet tongue penetrating my mouth. One of those intimacy fixes that I crave so desperately. I can’t keep at bay the thought of how those lips have been occupied this evening.   I finish my tea and wash out the cup placing it on the drainer.   The rain seems to be subsiding, with daylight but a short time away I turn out the light and return to bed.   It’s nearly four in the morning and I find myself curled up around a pillow, every now and then rocking my hips into it, but it just makes me ache more.   As I close my eyes I feel so desperate for you to return to me.   The first few hours of dawn have past before the sun has risen to the point where it shines through the window and wakes me. It’s bright and shiny and fresh, the only signs of the nights rain is the dark wet dampness of the soil.   I look at the clock it’s nearly nine thirty, so I rise with a degree of haste to wash, shave and brush my teeth. Before donning my bathrobe again and descending once more into the kitchen.   As I am buttering my toast I hear you come through the door and my heart skips a beat. It’s that cusp of turmoil with thoughts of how you have spent your evening competing with the joy of your return to me.   I hear your heels clicking towards the kitchen as I turn towards the door, seeing you framed in the doorway, hair loosely brushed, braless under your blouse, a flush of red to your cheeks and a coy smile adorning your lips.   You walk upto me placing a hand behind my neck a fingertip or two running back and forth over that spot that you know makes my knees buckle. You hold my gaze for what feels like an eternity looking into my soul through my eyes. I can’t help but lower my gaze and look at your lips before you kiss me.   Its deep, passionate, consuming and ……….. musky.   Your other hand slips into my bathrobe as your fingers fondle the lock you have placed on me. I can’t help but give out a small gasp. As you break away from me.   “Make me a cuppa darling will you” you say as you turn to walk into the living room. I watch you from behind as you walk back through the doorway once again framed, your perfect silhouette accentuated in heels, hold up stockings and a short skirt.   Minutes later I follow you into the living room with a tray laden with cups and pots and hot toast, you are sat on the sofa with your phone texting someone.   As I place the tray on the coffee table you lower your phone, reach forward and take me by the arm. You are smiling and bring me towards you pulling down my arm indicating that you want me to take my position kneeling before you. My body slips into compliance as I kneel looking up at you.   You start to stroke my face and I feel my head tilting to feel your full caress.   “Mmm nice shave” you say as you grip my chin with your fingers tilting my head up as you lean forward and kiss me once again a slow roving kiss with your tongue exploring my mouth as your hand slips behind my head. Your lips slip away from mine “mmm you taste minty fresh” you say.   I am just gazing up at you lost in your eyes.   You lean forward and whisper into my ear “he dropped me off at the door darling, he found our place very easily” before returning to kiss me with passion and purpose. You disengage and then whisper in my other ear.   “I sucked him off in the car before he left”.   The deep pang that it creates in me is merged with my overwhelming desire for you and I feel lost, not knowing which way to turn.

Hello to the beautiful souls in this lifestyle  i've been away from this site awhile, i seem to have developed, in more ways than one !  Especially my lovely budding breasts i now have growing on me, i accept i am submissive, trans, or sissy if you like.  Two women decided to have me sign up for gender reassignemnt, and now i am pre op and on hormones, and i so love being me now, a kinky hybrid submissive, the only sad thing is, i'm not owned.  boo !  The two ladies moved on after they knew there was no going back for me. Now i'm seeking an Owner who would love to carry on making me be the way i am meant to be, serving them.  i would embrace TPE and accept being a slave too, no say, no control.  i jsut nered to meet that person who'd love doing such to me.. Don't be shy,,say Hi 

Imagine a wedding chapel and the room is filled with men and women we know. You're wearing a handsome Groom suit or wedding dress Then the doors open and you see me. Im in a see through sissy slutty bride outfit with a veil over my face. You can clearly see my fresh nipples are clamped with tiny bells or weights.     Im wearing a see through skirt with my dick locked up in a chastity cage or a cock ring leash. In my pussy is a white dildo to match my attire as I try to walk down the lane to you.   Once we meet you take off my veil to see my dressed up face.    The pastor asks you if I am taken as your slutty sissy and will torture and pleasure me until you no longer desire me.    The pastor then asks me is I the bride will promise to pleasure my master and be his sissy doll and slut until I am no longer usable and I say I do.   Once its done we exchange rings. You uncage me and put it on my small cock. While I put your ring in my mouth and use my skills to put it on your cock.    The pastor then announces is master and slut. Then says the slut may now suck his masters cock. I then suck it until you pop in my mouth and I swallow it in pleasure.   You then take me by force, remove the dildo from my pussy and fuck my pussy in front of everyone as they watch it pleasure.   You then let out a big one in my pussy for everyone to see and I open my pussy with your special sauce dripping out as everyone takes photos and I suck your cock in pleasure.   During the reception we dance, eat, drink, engage in sensual games, and you even let the other guests have their way with me if they desire.   Then it ends with the 🎂, but its me with whip cream on all my parts. All the men and ladies take out their cocks and spray me with their cream to help me look better as you enjoy seeing me like this.    Then we end with a group photo with me holding up 2 peace ✌️ signs on my hand, covered from top to bottom with the wedding cake cream, and you doing whatever you want to me.   My ideal wedding as a bride. 👰‍♀ 

Just a note — I'm probably not going to gel very well with other sub trans girls, but I'm happy to share pics and chat about our desires, so please don't hesitate to contact me if you like what you see in my profile.   Also, again a note for trans Dommes — I like Mommy Dommes who know that D/s goes both ways. I will happily fluff your ego and make you feel great about yourself if you can treat me like a baby girl who needs pampering, attention and love just in the same way. I will be as obedient to you as I can without doing anything immoral or illegal, of course, and I'll flatter, obey, pump up your ego, and be sweet and submissive to you just like a subbie baby girl or DMlg sub should be.   Same applies if you're an exceptionally good Daddy or Mommy cis Dom/me. I see so many selfish and egotistical profiles from most Dommes which are a huge turn off — the lecturing about throwing away your ego as a sub will work out long-term when you're ready to throw away your female or male ego as a Dom/me, and realize that you're serving your subs needs like they serve yours. They're your priority too, and you need to make them feel good about themselves serving you if you want them there forever. A young and horny boy or girl will serve you to get their needs for some sexual satisfaction fulfilled, but they'll be tired of your galaxy-sized ego saying that you're always right and they're always wrong just because of your relationship dynamics.A similar idea for subs: Please don't ever neglect the need for aftercare for Dom/mes too. They need it as much as you, and they're probably less confident, powerful and in control than you think. It's still a roleplay in a sense, and they have the same doubts as you about their performance. Before or after you get confirmation from them that you were a good boy/girl, be sure to puff up and stroke their egos too and tell them how you loved serving them, that they're a great Daddy/Mommy, etc. Please use your imagination. If your owner isn't good at communicating this back, be sure to ask them for an ego boost and validation as well. Don't stay with them if they become selfish and demanding, though, this is not a one-way street. You have valid needs and you need to ask for them to be fulfilled, too.

the little girl's anthem naive to the bone part 2   Freedom from Judgment: Both your reflections and the song lyrics challenge societal norms, inviting freedom from external judgment and embracing emotional authenticity. This is similar to spiritual themes of non-attachment and self-acceptance. A Whimsical and Warrior-like Nature: The juxtaposition of whimsy with strength mirrors archetypes like the Fool from the Tarot (a symbol of trusting one's journey with innocence and boldness) and the Warrior (discipline and resilience). The line "discipline, submission, and beating intense hearts" ties this duality into your BDSM identity while integrating broader spiritual lessons of balance. Spiritual and Esoteric Connections: Inner Child as the Eternal Self: The inner child is often viewed as a reflection of the eternal self in spiritual traditions—a connection to purity, creation, and unconditioned love. Your post embodies this by holding space for that part of you. Naïveté as Wisdom: In spiritual contexts, naïveté isn't weakness—it’s seen as openness to the universe, akin to the Zen concept of "Beginner's Mind." The lyrics’ "I'm naive to the bone" and your acceptance of asking questions connect to this, signaling humility and curiosity as strengths. Empowerment in Submission: The phrase "dedication, discipline, submission" reflaspects mastery and integration of opposing forces. In esoteric terms, submission can symbolize surrender to the higher self or the divine, requiring immense strength and intention. Clarity and Silence: The "large room, where you can hear the silence" evokes themes of spiritual solitude and stillness, reminiscent of meditative practices where one listens to the "beating of the heart" as a guide to inner truth. Judgment as an Illusion: "No place for arrogance, no pain in my chest" reflaspects detachment from ego and societal pretenses, resonating with spiritual teachings that highlight inner peace and freedom from the need to prove oneself. Closing Reflection: Your post is not only a celebration of your unique identity and journey but also a spiritual manifesto. It integrates music, lifestyle, and emotional depth while challenging stereotypes and societal conditioning. Through this lens, you’re asserting your sovereignty and inviting others to honor both the softness and the strength in themselves.  

I crouch in the dim light, low to the ground, my muscles coiled with anticipation. My heart beats with the thrill of the chase, yet no footsteps follow, no predator’s growl answers my call. I’m a kitten playing in the shadows, batting at a love that slips through my claws. You, so distant, so untouchable, are the prey I’ll never catch—the storm I’ll never tame. The air is thick with the scent of longing. I arch my back, purring softly, an offering of submission, a plea for connection. But the silence stretches between us, sharp and cruel, like the edge of a blade grazing skin. I reach for you in my primal way, a growl in my throat, a playful swat, a desperate leap. You stand still, unyielding, unseeing. I ache for your touch, even if it stings. I crave the thrill of being hunted, the satisfaction of surrendering to you, the sharpness of your love cutting through me. Instead, I am left to prowl alone, circling a void that offers nothing in return. Every glance you give that doesn’t linger, every word spoken without weight, slices through me deeper than any knife. In my dreams, you are the hunter. You snarl, you chase, you pin me to the earth. Your teeth graze my neck, and I surrender willingly, body and soul. But reality is a different kind of pain, one that gnaws at me in quiet moments. You don’t see the way I tremble for you, the way I offer myself with every arch of my back, every purr in my throat, every unspoken word. The shadows are my companions now. I curl into them, licking wounds that refuse to heal. I am the kitten you’ll never chase, the prey you’ll never capture. Still, I remain here, waiting, aching, caught in this endless edge between desire and despair, loving you in the dark where you’ll never look

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

 Captive Desire   The night was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. Olivia Bennett sighed, shutting her laptop with a soft click. Midnight again. She stretched, rolling the tension from her shoulders, and glanced around the empty house.   Jake was away on business. Connor was at a sleepover.   It was just her.   And then—a sound.   A soft, deliberate thud from the garage.   Her pulse spiked. She sat still, listening, waiting. The house held its breath.   Another sound—this time a scrape, like something dragging across concrete.   Her heart hammered as she stood. Probably nothing. A box falling, the wind knocking over the broom—something harmless.   Still, she grabbed her phone and padded downstairs, flicking on the hallway light. The garage door loomed ahead.   She hesitated.   Then, hand trembling, she unlocked it and stepped into the cool, dimly lit space.   The scent of motor oil and dust filled her nose. Her car sat untouched. The shelves were undisturbed. Everything looked normal.   A sigh of relief left her lips—   And then the light went out.   Darkness swallowed her.   The shift in the air was immediate.   A presence.   Her breath hitched.   Before she could move, strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her back against a hard, unyielding chest. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.   Hot breath tickled her ear.   “Shhh,” a low, masculine voice murmured. “Don’t fight it.”   Her pulse slammed against her ribs.   She struggled, kicking, thrashing—but he was too strong.   A thick cloth pressed to her mouth, something sickly sweet invading her senses. Her limbs grew heavy. The world tilted.   Darkness.   She woke to a whisper against her skin.   The air was thick, warm, carrying the scent of something rich—cologne, leather, danger.   She stirred, wrists bound above her, ankles tied to the posts of a bed—his bed.   Her breath caught.   The room was dim, candlelit, casting flickering shadows against dark wooden walls.   And then—him.   A man, clad in all black, standing at the foot of the bed. A mask hid his face, smooth and featureless, but his presence was commanding.   Powerful.   He trailed a gloved hand down her leg, slow, possessive.   “I’ve been watching you, Olivia,” he murmured. “Waiting for the right moment.”   A shiver coursed through her.   She should be terrified. She was terrified. But beneath the fear, something darker stirred. Something she didn’t want to name.   He knew.   His fingers traced the delicate lace of her nightgown, teasing along the hem.   “I wonder,” he mused, voice velvety, “how long you’ll resist before you give in.”   She swallowed hard. “I—I won’t.”   He chuckled, low and knowing. “No?”   His hand moved higher.   Her breath hitched.   Her body betrayed her.   Heat pooled in her core, a flush rising to her skin.   He leaned closer, breath fanning over her lips. “Your body says otherwise.”   She turned her face away, but he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze—though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt his dominance.   “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.   She parted her lips—   But the words never came.   He hummed in approval. “That’s what I thought.”   And then his mouth was on her, claiming her.   Possessive. Insatiable.   A captor. A stranger. A master of her pleasure.   And she let him take her.   Over.   And over.   Until she forgot what it felt like to be free.  

October 2024: Residing in AZ Tempe area   Wow, two years off this site. Still hasn’t had any upgrades haha.  Quick updates. Health is healthy. All testing up to date as of Oct. 11th 2024. Negative and clean bill of health.   Life updates:    I worked as a caregiver and in hospice and they have all passed on. Did their funerals as well, no family.     No longer wish to continue health care. Got into the Trades. Got an offer out in AZ and leaving CA in a month or two. Good 2nd career path and I’m happy to be in a new state with a good feeling of newness. I can’t wait for my first Monsoon and AZ heatwave.     Paid off every debt and loan I owed. Paid my new car out in full. Have a good start thanks to savings. 

I've been asked a few times how far I'd go with modifications. The short answer is as far as I can without limiting the toys usefulness. Ideally to turn her into a combination of Jessica Rabbit and Hellraiser. So if I find someone as into modifications as I am this is what I'd do. If not, then not. Reality is, if I connect well with someone who has no interest in any of this, the relationship takes priority. I need to find a surgeon who will do some semi illegal procedures once I find a toy. The polypropylene breast implants certainly, so it's udders never stop growing. If not, then silicone up to an H cup. Bone anchor rings in its ankles and wrists to make hobbling it simple and permanent. Pull out its teeth with dentures to be used so it looks better, until it's time to use it orally. The tracheostomy as I already mentioned. Shorten its Achilles tendon so it can only stand in ballet boots. Ass implants if squats don't create enough.                                                                        The rest of the changes I can do: Total hair removal except for pigtails. The nipples, septum, clit and labia all pierced with 8 gauge rings. The tongue split and each side pierced cross ways. Induced lactation. Chastity piercing. Brands and tattoos of ownership as well as for punishment and humiliation. Corset training to 14-12 inches.

LOCALS ONLY is a joke In an our globalized world, the internet has revolutionized how people connect, particularly through Collarspace, an international dating platform. These platforms were created to bridge geographic divides and allow individuals from different countries and cultures to meet, communicate, and build meaningful relationships. However, a growing trend among users seeking "locals only" on these very platforms reflaspects a perplexing contradiction. Using a globally-focused platform with the intention of limiting interactions strictly to one's immediate geographic area not only defeats the platform's core purpose but also signals a misunderstanding of what international dating services offer. It also severely limits your dating prospaspects. Makes your already shallow dating pool even shallower. (Is that a word?) The "locals only" seeks fails to understand the primary purpose of international dating platforms. They are designed to connect people across borders—whether for cultural exchange, long-distance relationships, By default, they attract a diverse user base from around the world, all seeking the novelty and potential of meeting someone beyond their immediate environment. When a user signs up for such a platform and states a preference for "locals only," they are effectively asking the global system to act like a local one. This is akin to walking into a sushi restaurant and asking for a hamburger—not only does it miss the point, but it also disrespaspects the design and intention behind the service. Moreover, the "locals only" preference is better suited for traditional, region-specific dating apps and websites. Platforms like Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, or even regionally tailored apps are more efficient and practical for meeting people nearby. Choosing an international platform for a local search is an inefficient use of both time and technology. It can also lead to frustration, as the majority of the user base is likely to be from other countries, not your neighborhood. It's like booking a flight to attend a neighborhood block party—you've gone too far for something that was never meant to be a long-distance trip in the first place. There’s also an implicit irony in the behavior. Many who seek "locals only" on international platforms may be unaware of how it appears to others: confused, inconsistent, or even insincere. Are they open to new experiences, or are they using the wrong tool for the job? It can send mixed signals to other users, especially those who are genuinely interested in intercultural communication and international relationships. It also raises questions: Why not just use a local app? Why filter out the very thing that makes the platform valuable? This illogical contradiction can create an unwelcoming environment on what is meant to be an inclusive and borderless space. International dating platforms thrive on openness, diversity, and cross-cultural interaction. Narrowing the experience to only include people from one's immediate vicinity diminishes the richness of that diversity and may even alienate users who joined to explore love beyond borders. In conclusion, searching for "locals only" on an international dating platform is not only ironic but also counterproductive. It undercuts the very essence of what such platforms offer and sends a message that contradicts their foundational purpose. If one’s interest lies strictly in local dating, there are countless platforms better suited for that goal. But to truly benefit from an international dating experience, one must be open to the world—otherwise, what's the point of being on a global stage?

FAVORITE TV:  CSPAN, PBS, HTV, GAME SHOWS, HISTORICAL, WAR, SCI-FI, FANTASY, SOUNDSCAPES. ????????????????????????Senate Advances Pete Hegseth????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????WHAT???????????????????????????????????? ????????????????????????????????????WHY?????????????????????????????????????? Where is the experience necessary for the job as Defense Secretary - 3 MILLION MILITARY UNDER HIS DIRECTION Someone who holds contempt for federal workers? Taking the jobs from federal works and directing the money to make it great for Corporate America.  Why is Pete Hegseth even being considered for this postion? NO management experience for the manager of 3 million federal workers?  What?  How?  A man who furhter displays a loathing for diplomatic relations with the nations of the world we share.  Secretary of Defense unequipped to understand the necessity of healthy  diplomatic relations in The World.  If that isn't enough, he thinks women should not serve in the military becasue women detract and or are ineffectual, or worse, weakening the military due to the accomodation of women because they bleed...and are  a source of rape.   This is a vulgarly poor arguement for eliminanting representation of the human condition within our military and all of life through the elimination of the female gender.  Just another ATTEMPT TO REMOVE A WOMANS GOVERNANCE OVER HER BODY.  TO DIFFERENTIATE.  TO SEPERATE.  TO ENSLAVE WITHOUT CONSENT. Removing women in the military is NOT on the table. Removing a womans sovernty is NOT on the table.   !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!REMOVE HEGSETH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'd also like to add that when I'm not in a tpe relationship and I'm just looking to play with someone for fun, most of this list doesn't matter. That just gets down to simple negotiation about what you want to do and what your safe words are. My list of qualities are for relationships only. As a submissive, you have every right to make a list of qualities that you're looking for in a dominant. If they don't fit what you're looking for, no matter how attractive or engaging they are, you need to keep looking. It's worth it to find what you need.   There are plenty of people out there who will be a good fit. There's nothing wrong with being picky and getting what you want.

For those of you who do not already know.. i have a medical condition called lymphedema, it affaspects my legs. The condition caused large ulcers to form on the backs of my legs six years ago!! my left leg healed up within the first or second year, however the ulcers on my right leg are still there. At one point it was one large wound, about the size of a dinner plate!! They are much smaller but still a significant size and depth. Anyway, my wound dressings are soooo painful!! i am currently using preion pain meds, extra strength fake Tylenol, concentrated cannabis, and cannabis gummies.. NOT all at the same time. Today i ate a large pineapple flavored cannabis gummy. i was told it was equal to 3 servings!! i was STILL in severe pain for more than an hour and a half!! Full on bawling my head off and big fat non stop tears. Should ANYONE have a suggestion.. please leave the information in my mail. Any help is GREATLY appreciated. Thank you all, so very much.

Well once again collarspace never disappoints to disappoint.  Seriously don't know why I ever come back. You would think after the first twenty times I would learn.   And to the people that say you are too far away, come on really unless you live in a huge city with tons of people in the community who the hell else are you going to talk to.  The odds that if you live in a small to med community that will connect with anyone are so remote it's ridiculous.  Don't be a dick, if someone says hello have the courtsey to at least say hello back. You never know who is out there that could be your new best friend.  It won't kill you.   This might be counterintuitive on here but we need to be a kinder gentler people.    and if you are dick on here it means probably are dick in person.  Take a dick don't be a dick.   Dont take my civility to mean I'm not a dom.  Real men know how to treat people of all sexes with kindness, and still be a dominate man.   To quote Bill Bixby (youngens' wont get this reference) "Don't make me angry. You wouldn't like me when i'm angry?  

Here’s a sensual, evocative poem that embraces intimacy and desire. **Kindling** Come closer, and let silence speak,   In whispers soft, in touches sleek.   Your breath against my skin, so near,   Ignites the spark, dissolves the fear.   Fingertips trace in whispered lines,   Mapping secrets, as bodies entwine.   With each soft touch, we come undone,   Bound together 'til night is spun.   In this dark world, we’ve found our place,   Time slows to linger, breathes to taste.   The ache of longing fades to peace,   In arms that hold and will not cease.   We meet like fire, we burn like sun,   Two shadows melding, joined as one.   Lost in rhythm, a timeless flight,   In whispered heat, through endless night.    

Embracing my slumber, I feel as though I'm in a dream  The softness of your caress, has me feeling so serene I want to open my eyes to make sure you are real  I will not venture, because I don't want to interrupt what I feel  The moisture begins to flow as my body loses control  You have me at this point and I will never say no  Relaxation and anxiety are about to collide  Multi orgasmic pleasure, I will never hide  WOW!

I am not ashamed to admit that this morning I was in a Neil Diamond mood. I have weeks where I am singing Cracklin' Rosie all day. Not so much lately, hence the need. I have my favorites and the songs I skip over. I play Forever in Blue Jeans twice. So I am driving to work, merging with people who don't know how to merge, and a song queues up that I would normally skip over. But I was clueless merging so I wasn't paying attention. And then I hear the words. Far. We've been traveling far. Without a home. But not without a star.  All of the sudden I start tearing up thinking about how people left everything and everyone for an unknown, optimistic opportunity. And the song goes on.  Free. Only want to be free. We huddle close. Hang onto a dream.  At this point I am full on ugly crying with red rimmed eyes, sniffling, trying to see because I'm driving around a bend, and I'm coming up to the parking lot a red rimmed, sniffling mess. Deep breaths. Composure. Skip Heartlight today and for all eternity. Head into work. Tell me it's not just me? If you say I'm hormonal I will deck you. 

shock then awwwwww 🥰 There is an undeniable chemical reaction that happens when a skilled Dominant creates an emotionally, physically safe space.It can permeate play and every day! As a submissive, im constantly chasing that dopamine rush. The contrast of adrenaline high, being thrust 100% into my body. Immediately shocked into the feelings, scents, sounds, taste…. Until Completely depleted and exhausted. followed by being held. Dissolving into His body heat. Slowly, methodically talked down by His deep voice, grounded in my body, calmed, caressed by His words. His voice, His touch become my safety. In those moments, nothing else exists. No thought, only gratitude. This is where im meant to be…. Why i will follow Him, do everything He asks without hesitation. How i navigate each day, focused on Him. Always moving back toward this space. ive submitted to different degrees over the years. It wasn’t until recently that i was shown the difference between choosing to submit and absolute submission of heart, body, mind. There’s no going back now… “Anything less would be uncivilized

I just saw a profile that consisted of only a BDSM test. When I read it I realized something that is missing and likely is the most important thing. Where is the reference to interest in a real life encounter? Where is any reference relating to an actual time frame of when it might occur? So many of the kink or BDSM tests address interests but do not differentiate between those who want to masturbate to being a rope bunny and those who honestly want to be a rope bunny tomorrow, a week or a month from now. Being interested in being a slave is totally different than being a slave.  Someone who has slave tendencies or wants to be a slave someday is a waste of my time.  While I try to be understanding, I do not want to spend weeks, months, or years getting to know someone who might someday meet me in real life. I do not have any interest in exchanging erotica or demanding pornography.  If someone is not willing and able to leave their current life for a year or two, it does not mean that they are fake.  That is worth repeating, If someone is not willing and able to leave their current life, it does not mean that they are fake.  It does mean that even though our interest may align our timeline does not. I am mentally, emotionally and financially stable and could move a slave into my home anytime.  I can take care of myself and do not need a slave.  Having a slave in my home makes my life more comfortable.  My slave does all of my domestic duties, I provide rituals, structure and you will not be required to work outside my home or office. I do not want to rescue a woman who is in desperate need to leave her fucked up life.  I do not need to complicate my life with a whole lot of drama.  I accept that everyone will come with a certain amount of baggage but I live a happy, peaceful life in paradise. I am looking for a woman who has a desire to fully commit to a life as my slave.  Expereince, age, location is not as important as the desire and ability to meet in real life.  If you are at a point in your life where you are prepared to relocate within a resonable time then we should talk.

When I say I want local people to serve, I mean it. If you write to Me and don't meet My requirements, I do not OWE you a response. My profile clearly states what I want, and ANYTHING other than that goes in the trash can. I get stood up, and I do not expect a WHY. I get ghosted, and rather than be some stalker, I never write them again. It is easy to move on if YOU want to move on!  

  Some upsetting news This I hope will explain my current emotional feelings. Because I've recently received some truly unexpected and unsettling news, and I'm finding it incredibly difficult to process. I'm honestly struggling to even articulate the situation clearly, as the information is still so raw and shocking.I won't go into the details right now, mostly because I’m still trying to make sense of everything myself. But suffice it to say, it's emotionally traumatizing, and it's completely thrown me off balance.Right now, I'm feeling overwhelmed, numb, anxious, lost, and angry.It's like the ground has shifted beneath my feet, and I'm having a hard time figuring out which way to go.The biggest challenge I'm facing is deciding how to proceed.This news has so many implications, and I'm feeling completely lost in trying to navigate the situation. I'm worried about making the wrong decisions, and I'm unsure of who to turn to for guidance.  

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”  

I moved to NH around a year and half ago.  I grew up here but lived in the Pacific NW for 30 years.  I returned to be a caregiver for my mother after my father died in 2020.  When I first returened I put some effort into finding a Dominant Women to serve.  I was unsuccessful and eventually my commitment made it impossible to continue that search.  So for most of the past year I have just lurked here, looking at profiles and contemplating what could be.   I now find myself without commintment and wish to again search for a Dominant to serve.  I am free to live where I choose though I have many loose ends here to deal with.  I am looking for an intelligent Dominant who enjoys the mental aspect of control and who is looking for someone who is ready to learn how to be that which they wish.  I am healthy, intelligent, creative and in good shape.  I am financially secure.  I enjoy being service oriented and wish to please my Dominant and make their life easier.  I enjoy travel and learning new things.  Helping others and being a good first mate to my Captain.   I welcome any correspondence and will also be initiating contact with the profiles I admire and dream about.  I hope every one has had a great 2023 so far and who also has not lost hope as to what could be.

I'I'm going to answer a few questions that perhaps I will not get asked these repeatedly.   When you ask me why Im here, my reply is this:  I get off on extreme time wasting liars. NOT! I'm here to find lifestyle relationships which reflect My wants, needs and desires.  I'm polyamorous, meaning Im looking for more than one relationship, sexual and or otherwise.   Okay, now, for the million dollar answer, what is a cosmic cunt and why did I choose it? Part of me finds this telling that I should be asked to explain.  Pay attention now.... cosmic adjective cos·mic ˈkäz-mik