I am a little oddly obsessed with my ears. Or rather, with having clean ears. I'm not sure why, it just is. One time I was sitting in a room full of people at a workshop and the ice breaker was what would you bring to a deserted island? As people introduced themselves and answered the question I heard all of these brilliant high brow responses. But all I could think about was there wouldn't be any Q tips on the island and I would definitely need those. Yes, I know, you're not supposed to put those in your ear. C'mon, man, who doesn't? If the answer is you, immediately stop reading this and go away, we cannot be friends.  So yeah, it's Prime Day. Do I want some fancy kitchen gadget? Probably. Did I buy a hair drying curling thing that I will likely only use twice? You know I did. But you know what else? That ear tool with the camera on the end so you can see all that inside business. And holy buckets, one day shipping! So yeah, it came in this evening and I fired that bad boy up to see just how well my Q tipping has done.  First, it takes some getting used to, the view is backwards. Oh, there's an app so you can see the camera's view on your phone. Left is right, up is down, etc. Everything looks HUGE, you will love that. But so does the wax. Mine was not bad, but with my vigilance I was expecting bare floors. Not the case. Don't worry, it wasn't much, and I officially have clean ears now, but sweet baby Jesus I cannot believe how amazing that little tool is. A clean ear keeper's dream. Ten out of ten. Go get one. Don't use it to make other things look bigger.  Is this the weirdest post so far? I'm not sure. 

 I would acctept a female submissive to teach a sissy the ways of womanhood. I don't form sissies from scratch, will advise ones already shaved smooth, wearing panties and a plug. sissies should be wearing a plug on their own, they don't need a Master telling them to. a plug is not to stretch them but to teach them relax and let it enter and to clench on the narrow neck to tone their sissy pussy. they should learn to milk a cock thrust into it's loins, also a sissy should pick it's  own sissy or femme name to identify with, not wait for a Master to give it one. if they want to rename the sissy, so be it. if you're a Mistress or a Wife that has a sissy you think needs a little or a lot of Male interaction I can visit, even stay for a few days to do so. DB I have a room already set up for MY sissy. it has a bed, small bondage table, a tall stool, a cage and boxes and shelves of toys, cuffs, collars,straps and other supplies. 

Advice for messaging*It is disrespectful and insulting when someone sends an introductory email which does not mention anything specific about my profile or interact with it at all.  Ask yourself this question.  Could the majority of your email to me be copied and pasted to 100 other people and be just as valid?  If the answer is yes and you send this to me then you have just identified yourself as a time waster.  Do you want me to think of you as a time waster?  Is this really how you want to introduce yourself?*If your spelling and grammar are poor, you are not putting in enough effort.  This identifies you as LAZY.  Some try to excuse their laziness with various reasons but you can always have a friend read what you write or just reread what you type out loud a few times before you hit the send button.  I do realize that some bad punctuation is facilitated by the text editor here because this site strips out most punctuation except commas, question marks, periods, and exclaimation points. Hopefully this will be addressed someday, but till then you can still find creative ways to mimic other punctuation.*But the main form of showing disrespect through a lack of effort is just not typing very many words.  Incomplete sentences, only one sentence, or worse, one word or just a bit of text speak show a lack of effort, interest, and concern.  Many people do not want to communicate over a phone, they only want to type, but then they also are not willing to put in much effort at typing either.  So I quickly find an imbalance of effort as I see the words I type quickly outpacing the other person.  This makes the other person seem uninvolved and unappreciateive of my efforts.  They insist that I type and not TALK to them but then they do not put effort in to type either!Frequently, I find that I spend a great deal more energy and effort typing long messages to people who do not put any effort into what they send me.  Sometimes, when someone does not put enough effort into their messages, I will limit my response back to them.  If all you can offer me is a few words or letters then I will try to use FEWER words and letters than you did!  This will make my messages difficult to understand and if this frustrates you, GOOD.  Now you know how I feel!*On the other hand, if you are willing to put time, and effort to create a polite, cogent, salient, and compelling email which directly references my profile... perhaps by pointing to something specific that I have written and telling me what you think about it, then you can be sure that I will write back to you.

i'm a painslut, plain and simple. i am more than that, but i am very much that. i have fantasized, for as long as I can remember, about being bound and gagged, helpless and vulnerable, as a confidently sadistic woman inflicted exquisite agonies upon me. CBT was an essential component of these fantasies from the outset, and in ways i couldn't understand at the time, my suffering pleased Her, which made me want to please Her more. With all my heart, i want to please Her now and forever. i want to serve and please Her in many other ways, but make no mistake: i'm a painslut, and i will adore Her for devouring what i give to Her.

Everything He Has, Until There Is Only Me There is a particular music to it that I do not think you can understand until you have heard it in a room that belongs to you, with someone who has given you permission to play. The crack of a whip is not violence. It is punctuation. It is the sound of a sentence ending exactly where you intended it to end, clean and final and ringing in the air long after the moment has passed. It lands and the room holds its breath and in that held breath is everything: the authority that swung it, the surrender that received it, the particular electricity that lives in the space between the two. I feel it in my wrist first, then in my chest, then in the slow, satisfied warmth that moves through me when something has gone exactly as I intended. The skin that receives it blooms and I watch that blooming the way an artist watches a canvas accept color. With attention. With pleasure. With the specific pride of someone who knows their medium. The paddle is a different thing entirely. Where the whip sings, the paddle speaks in a lower register, a hard and resonant thud that you feel in your bones before your skin has finished deciding what happened. There is no elegance to it and that is precisely the point. It is blunt and declarative and it leaves no room for ambiguity. You know what it means when it lands. You knew what it meant before it landed. The sound of it fills a room completely, the way a bell fills a room, and the echo of it lives in the body for hours afterward, a reminder that resurfaces every time you shift your weight, every time you sit, every time your body moves against itself and finds me there, already waiting. The cane is my favorite. I will not pretend otherwise. There is a patience to the cane that suits me. The way you must take your time with it, must place it with intention, must understand that it is not a blunt instrument but a precise one. The marks it leaves are not accidents. They are calligraphy. Long and deliberate and raised against the skin like script, like something written, like the physical evidence of a conversation that only two people in the world were present for. I trace them afterward sometimes, these lines I have drawn on a body that belongs to me, and feel the same quiet satisfaction that I imagine a sculptor feels running a hand over finished stone. I made this. This is mine. You will carry this for days. And my own skin, where the energy moves through me like current, where the act of wielding produces its own particular heat, a tingling that lives in the palms and travels, that settles somewhere behind the sternum and glows. I glow. There is no more honest word for it. Something in me lights from the inside when I am in full possession of my own authority and someone is receiving it with everything they have. Neruda wrote that he wanted to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees, and I have always understood this not as tenderness alone but as inevitability, as the specific hunger of something that transforms whatever it touches simply by being what it is. That is what I want from you. Not your performance of devotion. Your actual transformation. I want to be the thing that happens to you, the season that changes the look of everything, so that you cannot see your own hands without thinking of what they are for, cannot move through a room without feeling the architecture of my expectations around you like a second skin. I want to wring you dry. Not cruelly. Completely. I want every thought that crosses your mind to carry my fingerprints on it, want you so thoroughly oriented toward me that pleasing me stops being a task and becomes simply the direction your nature moves, the way water moves downhill without deciding to. I want your first thought in the morning to be what She needs today and your last thought at night to be whether you gave it well enough. I want the obsession to be so total that it clarifies rather than confuses you, the way a religion clarifies the faithful, the way a vocation clarifies an artist who has finally stopped pretending they could have been anything else. Bring me what delights me. You know what it is because you have paid attention, because attention to me is the one thing I require above all others and you have either given it or you have not. By now we both know which. The particular tea, the correct temperature, in the cup that fits my hand the way I like. The flowers I mentioned once three months ago that I did not think anyone was listening to. The way a room should be before I enter it, the light and the temperature and the specific quiet that tells me someone has thought about me before I arrived. The knowledge, brought to me unprompted, of something I would want to know. The book left on my nightstand, the right one, chosen not from a list I gave you but from everything you have learned about the country inside my mind. Shower me in it until I glow. Charlotte Bronte understood this, I think, better than she is given credit for. Rochester did not love Jane Eyre the way men in novels usually love women, as a soft and worshipful thing, a pedestaling. He loved her with his whole difficult complicated weight, loved her as his equal and his better and his necessity, and she received it not with flutter but with the straight-backed dignity of a woman who has always known her own worth and was simply waiting for someone else to catch up. That is the love I recognize. Not the love that flatters but the love that sees, that is almost furious in its recognition, that cannot look away because looking away would require pretending the world is smaller than it is. Neruda again: I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. Yes. And also: I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. The wanting in Neruda is never polite. It is consuming and precise and it names its object with the specificity of someone who has studied what they love until they know it better than it knows itself. That is the quality of devotion I am describing. Not the vague warmth of general affection. The focused, detailed, almost scholarly hunger of someone who has made another person their life's primary text. Learn me that well. Want me that specifically. Bring it to me not in grand declarations but in the ten thousand small and correct details that prove you have been paying attention every single day, that prove my preferences live in you the way music lives in a musician, available instantly, expressed naturally, impossible to separate from who you have become. And when I glow, and I will glow, when something in me settles into that incandescent satisfaction of being known and tended and

So, recently I did a photo shoot for something I am doing in a few months, I kinda wish I had waited for this as I want to lose more weight as I feel like I am still unattractive in my current state, but I had limited time to submit the required photo... grrr... it's been a few decades since I've done a professional photo shoot, or any modeling for that matter, it was fun, and I may have to do it again soon... the photo I just uploaded and hopefully gets past the bs approval process soon was one of the ones I really liked from the shoot... but not the one I used for my upcoming bid for a title... however, I will say it's been a confidence boost to see these pics and realize the progress my working out has been... it still amazes me the things I have accomplished and the direction I am headed! currently I am hovering somewhere between the 225 - 230 weight range... my ultimate goal is to get back to the 160 -170 range... in the last year and a half I have gone from a 46 waist to a 36, I have gone from walking 5 feet and being exhausted to jogging for 2 minuets on the treadmill at a pace almost twice my normal walking pace and feeling ready for more when done... so yes the hovering bothers me, but no it doesn't at the same time.  I know I'll never be the 130 pound toned build I had into my mid thirties, but I also wont have the unhealthy habits I had that lead to the state I was/am in now either, so I can actually live with that! 3 things that hurt me, 1 smoking, 2 poor diet, 3 the heart failure diagnosis... 3 things I changed: 1 the last 4 years smoke free, 2 a healthier diet I actually follow, 3 I may not win the war, but the battle with the heart failure has been interesting... and I am winning, just like with my weight loss, not at the pace I want lol 

100% Master 100% Sadist  100% Daddy 100% Degrader  94% Rigger  93% Dominant  92% Experimentalist  84% Primal (Hunter)  79% Brat tamer  71% Owner  56% Switch  38% Non-monogamist  36% Voyeur  33% Submissive  5% Exhibitionist  0% Ageplayer  0% Brat  0% Degradee  0% Boy/Girl  0% Masochist  0% Pet  0% Primal (Prey)  0% Rope bunny  0% Slave  0% Vanilla   

Cookies. I promised several people that, if this adventure happened, I would write it up and share it in my journal. well, it indeed did happen last evening, Saturday, but not exactly as I thought I had it planned.  The set up for this story is that I did some work for a woman living in a over 55 community and only charged her for the material costs which I commonly do when I first work for someone I want them to like the work and not worry about the price. she was very grateful and gave me one of those looks like she was ready to pay me back in a way if you know what I mean and then she said: I'm sure you can think of something that I can do for you and shot me a wicked smile I knew that was my opportunity so I very calmly said: Willl you bake me pecan chocolate chip cookies? She let out what could only be described as a horse laugh, which I'm sure they heard in the adjoining units on either side. and then I followed up with, but that's not all, I want you to bake those cookies naked with 8 inch by heels, fishnet stockings and garter and a bright red ball gag. there was a long pause, kind of like dead air on a radio station and she finally opened her mouth and said you've got to be kidding! I'm not burning my boobs so that you can get off on some weird fetish! And I said OK what about wearing a tight swea and no bra? I expected another flat out no response but she said yes I think I could do that. But I'll also be wearing a skirt, nothing less than that, and no ball gag! And if That isn't good enough then you can go bake your own cookies! While it wasn't what I'd hoped for, I was still going to get my cookies, so on Saturday I came over with the ingredients she told me to get, and I sat in her kitchen, drinking coffee, while she walked back-and-forth across her kitchen in her very tight, white fuzzy sweater, and a very tight short leather skirt, plus stockings and heels, and she was an absolute delight to view. The blush in her cheeks said it all. But the best part was, she was actually baking my cookies! Once they were bagged, she Pulled them from the oven, tucked the tray up under her breasts and she said, would you like a cookie little boy? YES, Yes I would! then I asked so are all those cookies in the tray mine? Or should I ask if everything on the tray is mine? She just smiled and put the tray on the counter. She grabbed me by the hand, pulled me down the hall. We walked into her bedroom and she took off her sweater., God, those were better than any cookies!  We did all sorts of things that evening and late into the night. Considerind we're both in our mid to late 60s, so it wasn't like your first high school sex, in the back of your dad's car, but it was close.  in the morning, I woke up to the sun streaming in on my face lying next to a woman who still had her stockings and garter belt on, my head nestled between her large breasts, one of her arms underneath me,the other around my neck, and I thought to myself.... life is good! Lou  

I could Not update my profile without risking a long approval period, so I am updating here! my age is 47, not sure why that never updates. I am Heterosexual not pan sexual (not sure how that got changed). I am worth the time and effort, a one of a kind woman, who is not soon forgotten.  Looking for a male Dom in my area for real time. I am a sub, I will NOT send you dirty pics. Please be single and available, please be real, please be honest, please have your life together, as I do.  I am again looking for real time, would prefer a HOH type arrangement or relationship. Please be ready to verify who You are and meet within a reasonable timeframe! I am a loyal sub, I am kind and understanding, and mostly obedient ;).  I do not play games and expect you wouldn't want to either.  I like to travel, read, go to the beach, and write. I can hold a conversation. I hope you can as well!  I am passionate about this lifestyle and see it as a way of life, not a bedroom game.  thank you for looking at my profile! 

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

How can a str8 male fall in love with his Bull? This is a question that always calls my attention but lately it has become a surprising reality. For a Bull to pursue and obliterate any idea of str8 identity on a self proclaimed heterosexual male is a la or or of love. The Bull knows that this identity is misplaced but to convince the other male of this requires a deep knowledge of the male psyque.  Our society has done much of the work for us, str8 males (I said it before) admire sports figures to the edge of homoerotism. But of course that's admiration and it stops there. These males will follow a strong male to hell and back and allow any sort of intimacy with the leader of the band, actually they crave it. When they finally come to me I know there's a need a need that eventually could turn into love and that is a great feeling. However if one finds a male that is slowly falling in love not only giving you ownership of their bodies but also their feelings; that's a sacred charter that cannot be underestimated. Why? Because that male is into you and your dealings with him you are a model they can submit and surrender to. In short,  you've found a male bride and you must nurture that male and his feelings.  For the str8 male to acknowledge such feelings is confusing because is attraction, lust, respect, and the acknowledgement that he has fallen in love with the man and his phallus; but most of all the character and security it brings to his life. He is now realizing that the best place to be is anywhere his Man places him: between his legs, under him, or on his back awaiting the entry of the phallus that will change his life forever.  As a Bull you know he is yours  anyway you want that however, to the outside only him will feel your power and control. Even if he goes back to women which is an option if they still want to claim his str8 persona, he will mount them imitating you and doing it for you.    I had the pleasure of a baby named after me, and that’s the ultimate surender. It is his baby, now a teen, but every time he calls him he calls me. A male who loves you is a treasure to be had and a partner to nurture and possess beyond the physical.

Hi there, I'm a 26-year-old submissive bi-sexual girly woman who is into BDSM. I'm currently looking for a long-term live-in relationship with someone who shares my interests and desires.   As a naturally submissive woman, I am eager to explore and learn about the dynamics of a submissive-dominate relationship. I am interested in experiencing the various ects of BDSM and exploring my own limits in a safe and respectful manner.   Ideally, I'm looking for a partner who is also bi-sexual and open to a polyamorous relationship. I believe in open and honest communication, and I value trust and respect above all else in a relationship.   When it comes to my dressing style, I love to wear feminine and flirty outfits that accentuate my curves. I'm a big fan of dresses, skirts, and high heels. I enjoy experimenting with different colors, patterns, and textures to create a unique and eye-catching look.   In terms of shoes, I have a particular fondness for high heels. I love the way they make me feel, and I find them to be both elegant and sexy. I have quite a collection of heels in different styles and colors, ranging from classic pumps to strappy sandals to chunky platform heels.   Of course, I also have a variety of other shoes for different occasions, such as flats, boots, and sneakers. But when it comes to dressing up, you can usually find me in a pair of sky-high heels that make me feel confident and glamorous.   As a submissive girl, I have had a range of experiences exploring my submissive side in BDSM relationships. I find that submitting to a dominant partner allows me to let go of control and experience a deep sense of trust and surrender.   In my previous relationships, I have explored a variety of BDSM practices, such as bondage, impact play, and power exchange dynamics. I enjoy experimenting with new techniques and pushing my limits in a safe and consensual way.   I have found that communication and trust are essential components of a healthy and fulfilling BDSM relationship. Open and honest communication allows me to express my desires and limits, while trust enables me to fully surrender to my dominant partner.   Overall, my experience as a submissive girl has been both challenging and rewarding. It has allowed me to explore new ects of my sexuality and develop a deeper understanding of my own desires and boundaries.   If you're interested in getting to know me and exploring our shared interests together, please feel free to connect with me. I'm excited to see where this journey takes us!  

I read it but.... * I didn't really read the words I just looked at the pics * I didn't think when you said I had to be in the same country that you meant physically had to be * I didn't think when you said no one under 50 that you would not make an exception for me as I am very mature * I didn't think when you did not say to send the pic, I have of myself to you when I ask that you really didn't want to see the pic of myself.  * I didn't think you meant you would not give me a chance, after all, how can you resist me Well, I filled out my profile and made it as simple as I can so please don't think you can get me to play a game so you get what you want. Read my profile and respect it. I am happy to chat nothing more if you don't fit the bill. 

Sub thoughts for a Domme; What pleasure means to me ... as a submissive man, pleasure, to me, is knowing that i am making Her happy, providing a service to or for Her, filling the role that She wishes me to fill, for Her and Her pleasure.   I can do or perform acts that bring me pleasure, but it is empty if She doesn't derive pleasure, happiness, amusement or satisfaction from it. I am always hoping to make Her happy or to provide something useful to or for Her. A disagreement about what type of food to eat, what movie to see, what we are doing for the day .. the bottom line is She will have the final say, the Control to determine those things and to exercise that power when and how She sees fit.   I am happiest knowing that She is happy. To make Her smile or see the approving look in Her face is all the pleasure I need and anything further beyond that is simply icing on the cake.   I think what it means to the exchange between a Domme and Her sub/slave is mentioned in the above, but essentially it means that my pleasure only exists and should only be possible if i am pleasing Her .. it is Her desires and wants that need to be met, and my ability to assist or aid in that brings me great joy and happiness, and is the only thing that really pleases me.   Self-gratification is nice, but hollow and empty as i am not fulfilling the desire and yearning i have to know that i am pleasing Her. I exist for Her pleasure and that is fulfilling.   I look forward to submitting my ego and desires to Her, for Her to guide, shape, influence and control.

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

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

For the record, if I haven't said it before, I, myself, am NOT turned on by anyone in pink frilly birthday cake dresses.   If you google "pink lolita dress" images and are wearing anything like any one of those pink ruffled outfits, understand that it actively turns me OFF.  They look like toddler's fancy dreses. As I am not a pedophile, I am not attracted to toddlers.  I am, in fact, kind of repulsed by the idea of ANYONE being attracted to a toddler, and the entire thought process just squicks me out. So, no, not gonna ever wanna dress anyone up in a frilly pink dress like that. Now, if you make it black, with lace, and black fishnets, and don't make the skirt look like some nightmare square dance cloud of tulle, then, perhaps.  If it's properly paired with well done black eyeliner, etc. If you MUST have frills and ruffles, make it a fluffy bustle with a black velvet corset and a black lace shrug that ends in a finger loop Google "sexy goth dress" and wear that.  That is sexy. That is not 'three year old girl' stuff  Be a cat to catch a cat lover Be a goth to catch a goth dancer Be both to catch me Or maybe cosplay Thomas Brown Hewitt in the half mask, but that's a different conversation.  

Once I learned how to "shop for Fem" I became a ShopAholic! Could go every day to look for another new female garment. I even found myself buying 2 and 3 of the same just because the fabric and print turned me on so much.   Wearing these cute fem, girlie girl skirts and dresses and girdles and garter belts and opaque thigh high nylons and pantyhose just drives me crazy  horny! Being so turned on with the pastel colors and cute prints for myself makes me know how I would like to dress another CD Gurl for Sexilicious encounters.

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

Another day, another thought... It is a hot one in NYC - 92 degrees F/33 degrees C. Surely there needs to be some ice cream. As the owner savours hers under the shade of the umbrella on the lounge chair. The near naked pet dutifully eats its share from her feet. She is in a breezy tube top summer dress with tropical print. It is only wearing metal cuffs around its wrists and ankles, a collar that connaspects to a anal hook, and a cock cage with chains tethered to the owner's lounge chair. It is licking and sucking fast to make sure that not one bit of that ice cream runs off of the owner's white polished toes or small feet as the consequences of wasting the owner's kindness will be dire. Then... Wouldn't you like to know. ;-) 

There is a huge communication gap between lifestyle dominant women (dominant women who are not seeking a transactional relationship) and subs/slaves/switches. Did you know that some of us will contact you first? Did you also know that you can cut down on the spam you receive as well as the spam you send? I will happily contact guys who are as clear as I am in their profiles about what they're looking for and who are compatible. I actually get excited about finally having an intelligent conversation when I see this. However, that almost never happens. Profiles are usually void of any substance or meaning, extremely ifying, outright offensive, or full of off-putting pics. I avoid contacting incompatible people because I, too, would not want to be contacted by incompatible people. I have no way of knowing if there's a possible match, so my message goes unsent. Also, I will not contact you if your profile is clear we are not a match, because again, I would not want to be contacted by someone if I made it clear in my profile that we are not a match. Guys generally have no such compunction - but you should. This is a key difference in communication styles that you really need to understand. Think of it like looking for work: For the sake of this exercise, the person contacted is the employer, the dynamic is the job, and your initial message and profile are the cover letter and resume respectively. You are looking for a job, and instead of tailoring your resume and cover letter to what the employer is seeking, you use the same ones for every position and spam them everywhere in hopes of getting an interview. For the most part, any position will do. Doing this doesn't really increase your chances; your results will actually be the same or worse (the employer begins automating their filters and you fall through the cracks more and more often). You absolutely can and should stop looking before you resort to the spray-and-pray method. Take a breath. Discover a new hobby, or something. On the other hand, I tailor my cover letter and resume based on what the employer is seeking, and I only send it when I find a position that matches what I'm looking for. The problem is that the jobs I want to apply to are extremely limited because the employer has written almost nothing about what the job entails, or the content and tone are off-putting. "We're looking for a rock star ninja cowboy!!!!" or such crap. At some point, it's so disheartening and exhausting to find jobs that I stop looking for them. I take a breath. I discover a new hobby. We both have similar expectations of no or negative response, and the bar is so low that it's in hell for everyone involved, but we still approach the search differently time after time. Submissive men rarely contact us using focus and intention, but lifestyle dominant women are most likely relying on focus and intention to contact you. ---------- Tips on writing your profile and first message: Be clear in your communication. This will require you to think, so if you're currently checking out profiles with your hand in your pants, come back to this journal entry when your brain is online. Be clear about the type of dominant and dynamic you're looking for. Any hint of "anyone will do please please contact me mistress" and you're targeting pros and scammers. Although it seems counterintuitive, DO include aesthetic characteristics that are important to you. For example, be clear that you are seeking women of certain ethnicities, ages, orientations, gender identities, and body sizes. If you are open to anyone, be sure you mean anyone - as in, make an exhaustive list of exactly who "anyone" includes. If we see that this list includes us, and the rest of your profile resonates with us, we are more likely to contact you. Be clear that you consider dominant women human beings with feelings. Your profile and message should talk to us as though we're regular people, because we are. Using honorifics such as ma'am, goddess, mistress, etc. to address strangers is, again, targeting transactional relationships. You and the dominants you contact are not yet in a consenting dynamic, so no honorifics should be used by either party. You will get messages from people whothink you're an idiot and easy mark, then you'll question why you're only getting messages from these people. Using deors that refer to ethnicity, gender and sexual minorities, body size, etc. when corresponding with us is the fast track to being blocked, e.g. "I love black women", "BBW Asian women are my favorite". Don't do this. You've just turned us into demographics and s to gawk at, not people. Be clear that you need certain things in a dynamic. Describe what you like or dislike about specific kinks with minimal fappiness. Describe specific types of aftercare you may need. Talk about exactly what you need from a dynamic. This will require you to think. It's okay to need things; describing them will help you find the right person instead of all the wrong ones. However, make room for your future dominant's needs as well, and don't presume to know what these are before you even talk to them. Don't confuse your needs with wants; this way lies an unfulfilling dynamic. Be clear if you are looking for a transactional relationship. Being deceptive will just waste everyone's time. Lifestyle dominants are not sex workers who will dispense your fetishes in the requested amount for free. If you come across any dominant seeking an exchange of goods and/or services, they are who you are looking for. And yes, this includes "tribute" - lifestyle dominants do not filter out time-wasters by requiring things in exchange for their time...sigh. ---------- If you don't want to do any of this because it's too difficult, you should rethink if you're ready to search for anyone at all. This lifestyle requires thought and planning. Your ability to exhibit these qualities in your profile and messages will hugely benefit you. These suggestions are really the bare minimum for lifestyle dominant women to contact you, and the bare minimum in this community is enough to make you stand out. Oh, and remember how I said that some of us are willing to contact you? Unfortunately, societal norms such as waiting for men to approach us first are still reinforced in the femdom community, and plenty adhere to the kinky princess dominant in the tower, "someday my sub prince will come" philosophy. These ladies will never contact you, ever.

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

Ahh, my favorite season is here... Anything-But-Summer! I love the cooler weather in general, plus it gives me an opportunity to spend more time working in my yard. Now is the perfect time to look over my plants to see what was successful, and what may need relocated or even replaced. Once again, I'm enjoying the small surprises, such as the blueberries that have survived and even appear to be thriving in the bags in which I purchased them this spring. I'm saddened by the plants that looked promising in the spring, yet didn't survive the summer.  Much like those plants, although pleasant for a while, apparently I need to reassess some of the relationships in my life and consider finding others that have the potential to last longer and grow even more beautiful. Who wants to frolic and grow in my garden? *ominous grin*

I keep receiving mails of str8 men who after reading my writings realize that their str8 orientation is a lie inasmuch the reality is more complex than that. The feel, act, and view themselves as str8 or at the very least a top. However, once they encounter th mirror I place in front of them they come to realize that, true they feel str8 but deep inside there's a yearn to be with a man, a man better than them, one with whom they can be vulnerable and submissive. Onece they find that man they realize that all their actions were directed at this man in their uncon dreams. They want total surender and control and that means as i have mention many times, offering their bodies and masculinity. The issue is that in their close circle they are the man, they perform and command, yet it is hollow the real appreciation is not coming from the man they know is out there and they wish they could be in his arms, under him, or between his legs.  Nothing is off the table, they present all their actions are and have to his bull and they are happy they did. In cuckolding situations it is always the wife (mostly) who initiate the m2m breeding after watching her husband's arousal when she is taken deep and hard; they want that but still str8 it must be done for obedience to the wife. I play along because I know they will end up begging for cock. The question of why do I like str8 males is easy to answer, power. The thrill of eroding years of lies and being there to soothe the pain and reap the rewards. If the male is worthy of me in a longer timeline I will either make him into a male bride or ritualize his entry into a bisexual life. I do not want for them to only desire being mounted, that is my privileg and only mine. I want them to continue their life but knowing that the top (them) now found his bull. 

I spent the better part of Friday evening in tight breast bondage. Goddess Tabitha started at the chest wall of each of my breasts and wound the thin rope round and round until each breast felt like it was being crushed.She then had me stand on a stack of books and she took an additional rope and wound it around both breasts then tossed the free end of the rope over the rafter in the living room and tied it off. With a simple slap on my bottom I stepped of the books to hang by my breasts, my toes about six inches off the floor.It was such an awkaward feeling. It felt like each breast was going to explode, it felt like they were going to be ripped from my chest, it felt like I was going to fallover backward all at the same time.She then took a lit candle and ran it around my backside. Bursts of pain and heat here and there making my body jerk adding to the pain in my breasts with each flinch.It didn't last long as my breasts actually started turning very dark, it was heaven and hell all at once. I was so very close to orgasm as she let me downAfter I was untied I had to crawl between her legs to service her needs in gratitude for my training session. I whimpered, begged with my eyes and twerked my hips to tell her how desperally I needed release. She just kissed me and said "not tonight pet, maybe tomorrow"We went to bed and cuddeled until we ferll asleep.I am such a lucky girl :)

The Particular Ache of an Empty House I have been thinking about doors lately. The specific quality of a door that opens onto something waiting for you, the difference between entering a space that is simply empty and entering one that has been prepared, held in a certain state of readiness by someone whose entire orientation for the hours you were gone has been toward your return. I know that difference in my body. I have lived on both sides of it, and I will not pretend they feel anything alike.   Right now I come home to silence. It is my silence, my space, maintained to my standards because I maintain it myself, and there is nothing wrong with it except that it is inert. A room that has not been thinking about me. A kitchen that holds no evidence of anticipation. A threshold that does not know the difference between my arrival and any other event in the day. I cross it and the space simply continues being what it was, indifferent, unchanged, requiring nothing of either of us.   I miss the other kind of threshold with a specificity that surprises me sometimes.   I miss the quality of a home that has been tended. Not cleaned in the transactional sense, though that too, but tended in the way that a person tends something they care about, with attention to what it is for and who it belongs to. The particular arrangement of a room that tells you someone has been thinking about your comfort in your absence. The light already correct. The temperature already what you prefer. The small and specific details of your own preferences reflected back at you by a space that has been held, carefully, in your image while you were elsewhere inhabiting the world.   I miss being known before I speak.   There is a warmth to genuine devotion that I do not think translates to anyone who has not felt it, because it reads from the outside as service and from the inside as something closer to being loved in the most precise and practical language available. Not the warmth of sentiment, though there is that too, but the warmth of competence directed entirely at your ease. Of someone who has studied you carefully enough that your needs arrive met before you have finished forming them into requests. That warmth is not loud. It does not announce itself. It simply exists as the temperature of the space around you, slightly and unmistakably above what the world outside provides.   I think about coming home after a hard day, the specific hard days that my body produces without my permission, the ones where the pain has been a sustained and wearing presence since morning and the outside world has asked more of me than I had available and I have given it anyway because that is what I do. I think about what it would mean to cross a threshold into a space that already knew. Where the bath had been drawn, not because I asked but because someone understood the day I was having and had moved to meet me in it. Where the room was quiet and the lighting considered and the particular tea I need when I am worn down was already steeping to the correct minute.   Where someone was waiting, not with needs of their own to present or words requiring response, but simply with presence. The warm and steady presence of a person whose purpose, in that moment, is entirely my restoration.   I built that once. I know how to build it. I know what it requires, and what it produces. I know the specific quality of peace that settles into a body that has been genuinely, competently received by someone who considers receiving you their greatest privilege.   Kahlil Gibran wrote that work is love made visible. The devotion I am describing is exactly that: love made visible not in declarations but in the ten thousand small and correct things that together produce a life that feels held. The right cup. The considered room. The hands that know where it hurts without being told. The presence that asks nothing and gives everything and finds in the giving its own complete satisfaction.   I am building toward it again. This quiet house is a temporary condition, a chapter rather than a conclusion, and I know this with the certainty of a woman who understands the difference between where she is and where she is going.   But tonight I notice the silence, and I name what it is missing, and I let myself want it fully and without apology.   The warmth of a home that has been thinking about me is always on my mind.

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

 A collar isn’t just a symbol… it’s a question What does your collar mean to you? Is it ownership, trust, devotion, identity… or something else entirely? For some, it’s a sacred vow. For others, it’s a promise to themselves — a reminder of who they are when they give themselves over.   I want to hear your thoughts. When you see or wear a collar, what stirs in your heart? Is it pride? Submission? Comfort? Or maybe a little fear that makes you more alive?   Let’s open this dialogue. Share your experience. 

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

About me: Well I can tell you that in the vanilla everyday world I present like a cisgendered male. I am definitely not a passive person, nor am I overly aggressive either. I'm more of a thinker and definitely analyze situations first before just reacting. With that being said I consider myself a high functioning individual. I own my own home, vehicles, and have raised a child to a functioning adult as well. I work in the white collar business world in a career that demands excellent communication, planning, organization, and implementation. Those communication skills also transfer into my private life. I am fortunate that I had Parents that are very open-minded and were able to provide a wide variety of experiences. That open-mindedness has transferred into my life as well. I have traveled overseas for work and pleasure and probably have been to most of the lower 48 states. As a result I have a very wide area of interests including the Arts, classical music, academics, and spirituality. I'm not obsessed with Fitness but I consider myself to lead a healthy lifestyle and I'm very active. __________________ During my sexual development I noticed that I never ever made the first move and always let the woman lead. I thought that was just the natural way that things were. After the first move is made, all bets are off I am not a passive or Lazy Lover. I just became to recognize that my need is for a woman to take charge. During my development from puberty to adolescence I was attracted to women who were intelligent, older, and the Femme Fatale type. The cheerleader or schoolgirl type never did it for me. Like many of us I started to explore my sexuality and relationships more deeply after my divorce more than 15 years ago.  I was drawn to my local alternative community which provided a safe space for exploration. However I am not active as the idea of public play or competitive BDSM games are not something that suits my values. Female lead relationships, or taken in hand relationships spoke to my inner soul in a way that is difficult to explain. To use an analogy, i view the relationship like a knight and her Queen. The Knight is still a strong capable being who happily and lovingly relinquishes control and Authority to the Queen.  I do also like the Goddess analogy as I think there is a spiritual component to this for me. I have had vanilla relationships where the woman was in control and led the way in terms of vacations, day to day life, and even being sexually in charge.  However, I have not had a formal female lead relationship like you would read in a book.  I am searching for a woman to develop and work on this with me in terms of rules, limits, and how we would live our lives together. For the past 10 years I've been at a point in my life where I know this is what I want and need. However, we as human beings cannot give up our personal values for relationship. Those values have to do with other areas of compatibility with a potential lifelong partner. More to come     

I've recently had the chance to think about TPE more, and I decided that there are ultimately four types, three of which I consider acceptable. In order of intensity, there is first the type, which is simply pushing past where a sub/slave would normall safeword, but not pushing so far that the subconcious is actually forced to acknowledge that they are not in control. This is a stage where a slave is usually begging or angry. The second is the type that I practice currently. Pushing past where people think their limit is, past the second limit where their subconscious gives and realizes that it can only endure, but not going past the last one. The one that makes the mind retreat and can cause trauma. I just brush up against it. The third is when someone deliberately breaks through that last barrier, repeatedly doing so in order to shape the slave into what they desire, using that shaping to subsume other desires and wants, to change who they are at the core level. This is acceptable when a Master has the time, will, and facilities to manage fully breaking a slave, and a slave has agreed beforehand. The last is just the territory of psychopaths, just breaking for the sake of breaking, to do as much damage as possible, and only for their own amusement.

I'm grateful to Master Dominus11 for permission to reproduce this entry from His journal.  It so nicely summarises everything I feel! slavery is not about suffering - slavery is about service.slavery is not about humiliation - slavery is about humility.slavery is not about pain - slavery is about being present.slavery is not about being used - slavery is about being of use.slavery is not about control - slavery is about letting go.slavery is not about what is done to you - slavery is about what you do for others.slavery is not about abuse - slavery is about acceptance.slavery is not about proving anything - slavery is about being real. slavery is not about contempt - slavery is about respectslavery is not about how you look - slavery is about how much you care. slavery is not about denying yourself - slavery is about being open slavery is not about bondage - slavery is about freeing your spirit. slavery is not about punishment - slavery is about discipline  slavery is not about being unable to escape - slavery is about being committed slavery is not about submission - slavery is about obedience. slavery is not about fear - slavery is about trust. slavery is not about sex - slavery is about love. slavery is not about pleasure - slavery is about happiness.

I have had a few people get annoyed or mad at my personality so I am posting this Here are some thing I am just going to address (These are paraphrased)   "Wow you say your a sub but you dont act submissive at all #notarealsub" Yes I am submissive, my personality is cold/distant and I get most people are not ok with that. I am not going to just go "UwU master pwease let me submit 2 ur budlgie wulgie" cause that is not my personality at all. If I vibe well with someone then ya I am ok with concenting to have them dominant me by forcing me to submit.   "You dont seem interested in talking to me" Ya I am not interested in talking to anyone and on top of that I try and respond in as little words as possible. I am will chat but I am not a social person so I will come off as such.   "your personality is trash and you should act more cute" No if someone isnt cool with how I am then I wont be changing. (Of course I do change things but only unhealthy things not my standard personality)   "You should change how you dress and look more feminine" Nope, I will dress how ever I please and wont be changing that ever.   "Why wont you meet me" I dont really like being around people so it is rare when I do meet anyone.   "You sholdnt say you dont like kissing or being close to someone" I really really hate the feeling of being close or intamte with someone so sorry not happening   "You should meet me I am a good person" If you have to say you are a good person then I say that is a red flag

The AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Tea Party - 11th July 4pm This is the latest review from my tea party held on 6th June I attended the Acadamay CFNM Tea Party for the first time yesterday and I have to say, it was a truly unique experience. I can honestly say that this is the most authentic Female Domination experience that I have ever had. The women attending were clearly not 'playing' a role, but are living it. For some of the men present this was there first experience of female domination (at least in such a formal sense), but Master May runs the event with strict protocol, but with a light touch, so that everyone feels welcome. I don't know how Master May selects attendees, but it was a wonderful mix of backgrounds and experiences. I have had quite some experience of female domination, but to do it in a group, and to serve formally in that environment was very new to me and a revelation in the effect it had on my psychological state. There is something wonderfully calming about surrendering to the will of others, but to do it in a group the effect on me was even more powerful. If you are curious about Femdom, then this is a great place to start, and if you have had some experience and wish to delve a little deepening, this is also a profoundly rewarding experience. Underling 5 Single females are always welcome to the CFNM ladies tea parties, also single groomed submissive men who wish to serve their superiors may apply to attend. The AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Tea Party celebrates female empowerment through elegance, confidence, control, and connection in a respectful, sensual, and beautifully refined setting.  Whether you're a seasoned attendee or new to the scene, the Tea Party promises laughter, conversation, and connection among like-minded individuals who appreciate charm, class, and decorum and most of all, plenty of BDSM!  This is a small intimate and inclusive afternoon for elegant ladies who relish the attention of the naked males who wish to serve them in any way demanded from them.  When you attend a club as a single person you are taking a major chance on whether you will actually meet anybody that you actually want to meet.  Who wants to spend time standing alone at a bar surreptitiously casting your eye around for somebody who might be interesting to talk to, let alone develop a deeper connection whilst feeling embarrassed about being on your own?  My Ladies’ Tea Party is more like attending a dinner party where the host spends time each month assembling the perfect combination of guests to ensure that everyone has the most entertaining and stimulating time. You will be introduced personally to a selection of like minded people and have the opportunity to forge new lasting friendships.   At my CFNM you will meet everybody present and be comfortable participating in the conversation and activities. But unlike a dinner party, the conversation will be completely free of taboo and judgement and everyone will be encouraged to ‘do as thou wilt’ as the course of the afternoon develops.  As a lady you will be given the support of the other females present, whether you’re new and wish to know more about the art of female domination, or maybe more experienced looking to swap tales of experiences and to extend a friendly hand to the newer recruits to the lifestyle.  As a male you will relish the chance to associate with other men who have had for the longest time the same fetish as you to be naked and servile amongst powerful women without worrying about having to overcome any shyness about being with other men in the same position or having to approach a woman that you don’t know: every guest is included in the interactions and that you will have the opportunity to meet each and every Lady present is a given. This is a party like no other, held in a deluxe, decadent and very private boutique hotel suite where discretion is the key word and you will have the opportunity to strip bare the normal conventions and reveal exactly who you really are.  Do not miss this potentially life changing chance to realise your long held dreams of being in the company of liberated people who have long wished to be part of such a select group.  If you wish to attend you will send me an email with a face photo and some details about yourself so that I can choose the perfect combination of guests to make a memorable occasion for everybody. Email: acadamayevents@gmail.com

The Lighthouse Within: Illuminating Love and Power in Dynamic Union I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this i tweaked this song with a higher pitch and a faster beat to really get into a deeper and more fulfilling emotional space than the song was. however, i am moving most of my platforms to something more professional ish and don't want to deal with the copyright. just know if you pitch it up and move it to a faster speed it's a different experience that is. beyonce's voice sounds more childish, impish, and little girl ish. a emotional and mental state i can resonate with more fully as an adult and little girl. the jayz voice sounds more of a stronger timber and more of a high hit on the drum sound....something more direct and focused and intentional and intense. the sounds in the background that are celebratory sound grander. the piano sounds angelic and full of joy, uplifting, something literally awesome. awe·some /ˈôsəm/ adjective extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear. something other wordly, something in the clouds, something more expansive than earth ever can be. Uh, uh, uh This (uh, uh) is (uh, uh), ouu! Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like, "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love Representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still) I put it down for the 713 and we still got love for the streets (ow!) We played it cool at the pool of the Cancun, VMA Confidence you exude make the fools stay away Me, I played the room, let the fools have they say Fate had me sitting next to you on the plane And I knew straight away, uh The next time we would speak was like two years away You had a man, you shut it down until you two had a break I bet that dude rued the day You kept me up on the phone while you were away You came back, I let you set the date, Nobu on the plate I brought my dude to play it cool, my first foolish mistake Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this Queen, I ain't mean no disrespect But the way I network, it's hard for me to connect My first time in the ocean went exactly as you'd expect Meanwhile, you going hard, jumping off the top deck A leap of faith, I knew I was up next I never told you, but I told a few people we wed Me, I'm off to Rome, you going back home instead My first time in my life a live nigga felt dead You came back, I had to act like it was cool in my head Thoughts of jumping the broom, a player never been swept Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) To all the good girls that love hustlers To the mothers that put up with us To all the babies that suffered cause us We only know love because of ya this song talks about still being from where you are from. the 713. this song doesn't need to be decoded as deep as others. it's a tale of two bodacious bombastic people. i see it in the daddy dominant and little girl personality and identities. strong, powerful, like greek gods in sculptures running the world. pushing the line between safe and da

You know what I’ve noticed? A lot of you want to be owned—but none of you want to earn it. You slide into my inbox like you’ve already been claimed, like we’ve built something, like I even know your favorite color or what your voice sounds like when you’re trying not to moan. Spoiler: I don’t. It’s always the same—some lazy “hey gorgeous,” followed by a picture of your dick like it’s a résumé. You call it confidence; I call it laziness with bad lighting. You don’t build devotion through shock value. You build it through discipline, consistency, and showing up without needing to be begged for it. You want intimacy? You want that mind-melting, breath-stealing connection you fantasize about when your hand’s between your legs? Then stop treating Me like a vending machine for your kinks. You don’t insert your fetish and press D for Domme—that’s not how this works. You think you’re ready to be used, but you can’t even send a respectful message. You think I’ll give you access to My energy just because you find Me attractive? Cute. You’re aroused—and that’s supposed to be My problem? Flattery doesn’t earn you obedience. Desire doesn’t earn you access. And your dick definitely doesn’t earn you attention. You say you crave to serve, to please, to surrender—but you don’t understand that real submission requires something from you. Time. Effort. Patience. . Always sacrifice. You want to be worship? Earn the privilege. You want Me to care what you crave? Show Me why I should. Otherwise, you’re just another noise in the crowd—nameless, forgettable, replaceable. Because when you finally understand how to build intimacy, that’s when the real reward comes. That’s when a Domme looks at you and thinks, “Yes. He’s worth My time.” That’s when your devotion becomes currency—and it starts buying you experiences no instant message ever will.   Until then, keep your dick pics, your “hey sexy,” and your entitled fantasies. You haven’t earned the 

I have been a Dom since the 90's. I have had subs, slaves, babygirls, boitoys, ts sluts. I have spent time carving initials in peoples backs, slicing their skin with exacto knives, whipping marks on their backs, legs and ass, crop marking them and making them orgasm from the pain. I have led an interesting life. And I want more. I am not dead, I am 51 with the urge to please and provide pain for the sake of release. I am willing to remain loyal and kind in this process. Often when one reads my profile they think he will be too soft for me, or too sadistic. I promise I am a great mix of many things. The experience I have under and on my belt has made me conscious of who I am and how I should be with subs and slaves. It has also taught me that I need certain kinds of people in my life, in my heart, in my soul. And I see some of you and I think, these people might work, and then the chemistry isnt there or I am simply not attracted to them. I appreciate all the men reaching out to me like the horny bitches they arem but unless you are 100 percent fem, have a pretty face, and dress all the time, Im not jumping. As for the ladies, well, I have likes and dislikes. It may seem shallow but I have types that get me hard, and types that make my knees weak, and types I wish I could avoid. We all do dont we? When it comes to love, I am loyal to a fault, and I am brutally honest. I hope someone sees this out there and thinks maybe I am his type and wants to reach out. Maybe.  Master K

Wow.. it's been forever since I posted here.  Im not even sure when journaling opened back up.  Last weekend was 1 year since my husband/ex Master passed away.  It's been a journey of refinding myself,  of re discovering independence and my own abilities to take care of "honey do" jobs around the house,  and of learning to put myself first.   I've gone back to favorite recipes I hadn't made in years because he didnt like them,  I've thrown out the foods I never liked but had because he liked them.  I've even learned to install a doggie door and a keyless entry by myself:)   And I've gone through several cycles of being mad and sad,  and mad and sad again.  I didn't like the man he became, but I will always treasure the many years with the man he used to be.  And while it's been a bumpy road,  I like this version of me that has come out of it all.   A me that wouldn't exist without the strength he gave me for years.     Be well wherever your soul rests, Daniels.

  A touch A kiss I didn’t know such passion could exist   A faint glow A little light A fire is now blazing in the night   A growl A grip A forward thrust of the hip   A whimper A moan A screaming of your name   A touch A kiss I didn’t know such passion could exist  

A note from me, K.  A bit of a look into our recent goings on. This was a big moment for me and I want to savor it. I had to break it up because it is quite a long entry.    M has been behaving really well lately! Behavior modification and control is my primary interest and all the implements of our lifestyle are just ways of helping me achieve that control. We have had the conversation regarding my desire for cuckolding before, many times. I bring it up quite a bit, I just can't get it out of my head. I need this for me. Back in 2019 M accompanied me on a few dates with potential bulls, but I don't think he ever thought it would seriously happen. This is very different from when I saw submissive clients professionally. I never ever had sex, I never ever gave head, I never even gave hand jobs. If my clients were allowed an orgasm, they would bring themselves off. M knew that when I finally allowed him sexual contact that we had taken a serious step. A premature ejaculator, he was and is a horrible lay and has never got better. I honestly didn’t expect him to. I got off on my control of him and absolute obedience, not his penis. And now while we have probably only had PIV sex 8 or 10 times in the last 3 years, I desire it more than ever, just not from my husband.  The pandemic drove us all inside and away from people we didn't know. The dates with potential bulls ended and I think M figured that was it. But, my desire for a bull has continued steadily building this entire time and has come to a tipping point. I decided to re-engage the subject in one very direct conversation with M last weekend. I have also decided to keep him on a more frequent chastity release schedule as positive reinforcement while we move forward in adjusting to our dynamic and while finding a bull for me again, in earnest. This conversation was for me to lay out my intentions in full.  We had scheduled this conversation for last Saturday a week before so that we would both be ready. We spent the morning at a farmers market searching for fresh produce that M would turn into a delicious dinner while I spent the rest of the day getting a massage and reading in our backyard garden. After dinner I suggested we move to the living room where I sat in the chair that I have for years been using for spankings and directed my husband to sit cross-legged on the floor in front of me. His lack of pants showed me his diaper was soaked and I put his pacifier in so he wouldn't be tempted to speak.  While he was sitting in front of me I explained to him first, that I loved him, that he had done nothing wrong, but that we would be renewing our search for a bull. His immediate reaction was to put his hand to his mouth in an effort to remove the pacifier so he could speak. I leaned forward, caught his hand and told him, “let me finish.” I explained to him that I would also be allowing him a more frequent release schedule from chastity, which drew out a smile behind his pacifier gag. I explained that his new permissions came with new expectations and that it was directly related to, as I put it, "returning to vigorously searching for a bull." His smile faded instantly which breaks my heart, but I have made my decision and know it will be best for us both; our lifestyle dynamic has many places left to go, but this is step one in getting there. I explained gently but firmly that he needed to get used to the idea of there being other men in our lives. I told him that I was completely finished treating him with kid gloves around cuckolding, that this was something I needed that he couldn't provide and that he knew that.  "M...we have come so far. I have emasculated you to a point you know that I could never take you seriously as a sexual partner. You know this and you know I need someone else, don't you?" He again lifts his arm to remove his pacifier gag so that he can speak. "Nope. Just nod your head, baby. Nod your head that you know I need this." 

I regularly get messages asking me what I consider edge play or what is an "extreme" scene that I have done. A few thoughts on this. First, and most importantly, my adventures are no one else's fapping material. I have met people off this site before, but that is more of an exception than a regularity. Sharing something like a story, which is very intimate, or a scene, is asking a lot right off the bat and is something that no one is entitled to. What is considered edge is going to be different for each of us? I am not here to one-up on someone or compare sausages. What is taboo to me? Having someone viewing another person on camera might not seem hardcore, but having cameras set up 24/7 to view on-demand is.  Going out to dinner may not seem hardcore, but my footing the bill can be edgy. Humiliating play may not be edgy, but when you consider mental health, it can be as sharp as a physical knife edge. If you are not on the same wavelength as I am, you will miss the subtleties of how sharp my edge is. 

prt 2 ... This was the first one on one interaction I'd had with
a female for over a month, and I'm ashamed to say that with
the smell of her perfume and her proximity to me, I was feeling
the tingles of an erection.
As we talked our legs occasionally touched each other,
and I was always the one to move. June told me that 23 was no
age and that a good looking young guy like me would have no
problem finding someone new. I tried to get off the subject
and asked about her. She was divorced from Emma's dad
for some 20 years now and never seemed to have any interest
in dating again. She smiled and put her hand on my knee and
squeezed and told me I was sweet. I must admit I blushed a
little. She seemed to take courage from my blushing and
moved her hand slightly up my leg and squeezed gently again
. Her smile was even broader as I began to squirm a little
trying to hide my growing erection. Her eyes held mine as
she slid her hand further up my thigh and her thumb brushed
the tip of my erection. She swirled her thumb around the
head making it twitch. I went to stand but her other hand
reached over and grabbed my knee firmly. I went to speak
but she seductively shushed me. Her thumb was joined by
the rest of her hand. I pushed upwards. June smiled and pulled her hand away. Leaving my cock twitching
in my jeans.
She asked me if I liked that, I dumbly nodded. She asked if I wanted more, again I nodded. Smiling, she leaned in and
kissed me gently on the lips, her tongue quickly darting
in and out of my mouth. She pulled away and told me to stand
up and strip as she wanted to see me naked. I was sexually
hypnotized, my little head was doing the thinking and the
rest of my body was just going along for the ride. I stood
in front of her, she smiled and leaned back on the sofa as
I took off my shirt. She leaned forward and undid my belt,
and pulled it from the hoops of my jeans, folded it and
laid it across her lap. I undid my jeans and let them drop
and stepped out of them. My hard as iron cock was trying its
best to escape its boxer short prison. I hesitated for a
second but her smile encouraged me and I slid them off as
well.
She reached over and cupped my hard balls and gently squeezed
, My cock throbbed and I almost exploded as she took the head
in her lips and sucked gently flicking it with her tongue. What happened next took me totally by surprise and I nearly
fell over. She wound the belt around my thighs and pulled
it tight. I found my footing and put my legs together and
she took the opportunity to pull it tighter till it was biting
into my thighs. She fastened it.
I must have had the dumbest of looks on my face as she stood
. Her hand reached down and stroked my cock and she kissed
me gently on the lips. She pulled away and smiled as I leaned
into her. As she walked around me, her warm hands stroking
my chest, gently pulling on the hairs. She kissed my shoulder
and neck. Biting ever so gently. She stroked my back, I felt
her nail lightly scratch. Her hand slid down and gave my
tight ass cheeks a squeeze. I was in a haze as she reached
into her bag. I became more confused as she pulled out a scarf
and tied tightly around my eyes. I heard a jingle then felt
cold steel being tightened around my wrist and then my arms
being pulled behind me and the other wrist was cuffed. I
felt her circle me. I winced as she pinched me and poked me
. She squeezed my balls hard and I almost doubled. Holding onto my shoulders, she gently pushed me. I shuffled the best
I could. She stopped and I figured we were in the middle of
the room.  

I think it's much better to share about myself through this journal entry and not gamble with updating my profile and sending it to the verification hell! Hmmmm so a few tid bits about me: I am an educated person (I know the difference between there and their and get this, even affect and effect! Impressive right?! I know...) I have registered my orientation here as switch but if I can elaborate more into it, I am a primal sensualist who's a noetisexual and demisexual. Ok I am not just throwing around these big words to sound chic! Talk to me and you will realise what I mean by all of that. I like having conversations, for real. I am an introvert by nature but when I feel like I have something in common with the other person or they have shared something about themselves that intrigues me, I will talk and talk AND talk about it. I want the connection, the interaction between two people to be genuine. It's only then we get to know about true selves of one another.  According to Myers - Briggs I am an INFJ.  I like playing chess, sudoku, crosswords and love reading poems. YES, I AM REALLY 29 YEARS OLD. I am not much concerned with finding age appropriate people to interact with. My experience has told me that a conversation with a 20 something can be as engaging as with a 50 something. That will reflect in the people I approach here. Ofcourse I am aware and respectful of the fact that every person's want here is different, and that's why I don't mind if I don't get a message back.  If you haven't become impressed by now, well, just read those 6 points again. 

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

I wrote this for a for a budding slave. A slaves prayer /affirmation /mantra  I dont want to be a free , i Need to be owned.  I dont want to be abused I need to be cared for.  I will feel more alive on my knees, begging to serve my masters needs. Than I ever have anywhere in the world standing up.  A master who does not provide this property with balance. Is unworthy of my service. A master who will provide me with balance and care. I will devote my life and service. I would love to read your thoughts ?   

TO ANYONE WHO BLOCKED ME OR GHOSTED ME Thank you. When a person ghosts or blocks me I think it says more about them than it does about me. When someone ghosts or blocks me I say a little prayer. Well, that's not the first thing I do. The first thing I do is to probably to say a few little curse words --- just a few of my favorites --- and then I say a little prayer. I say the prayer because I am thankful that I dodged a bullet. I think that people who ghost or block others are weak and cowardly. They don't have the strength of character, integrity, honesty, or courage that I want, in fact, require in anyone that I am associated with whether it be a friend, a submissive, a colleague, or anyone else. They are doing me a favor by ghosting or blocking me because I am better off without them.  

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. 

In Regards to Domestic Servitude If you are wondering what some of the tasks will be, here is a list: Doing the chores, cleaning, and errands to include: Picking up packages, groceries, dry cleaning Changing the bed sheets, maintaining and putting the laundry away Keeping the closets organized  Watering the plants Draw my bath and pull down the bed covers To be a Chauffeur  Wait on and pamper me Massages Foot and Body Worship

Alright, let's get down to it. Reasons why you may not get a response: 1. There wasn't time for a sufficient reply.2. I got distracted.3. The message received was generic. 4. The message received was disgusting.5. The message received very much had nothing to do with my profile other than my image or state.6. Your profile is blank.7. I chose not to reply. It's not personal, I don't know you. I'm sure you're fantastic. Your interest does not mean I owe you my time. In a perfect world we would all get a polite rejection, and sometimes that happens. But sometimes we're having a hell of a day and delete is the best option. Or any one of the above reasons. No response is a response. A "revenge" message is a clear picture of your character based on your own assumptions. This almost feels like a rant, but I'm filing it under public service. 

I LOATHE setting up WordPress.  I mean.. .GAAHHH! I miss doing things via .html where I had control over what went where, and how things looked. Yes, it was a LOT of work doing things like forms, sidebars, etc, but at least it went where I wanted it I still have to get dominaangeldmort dot com back on it's own space, but for now, at least the page is back up, parked on my angeldmort domain, and I have the podcast started, sort of The first run through is up, and it does play, although I think I need to re-record it, so it doesn't sound so... flat?  and I can't figure out how to put the subscribe or donate buttons on there, etc The link is up on my fet group, if anyone wants to have a look It's called Why You Can't Find a Dominant Woman If anyone is good with WordPress, or web design in general, feel free to offer some advice It's a start.

On the twelfth day of Kinkmas my true sub got from me:Twelve spankers spankingEleven croppers croppingTen paddlers paddlingNine caners caningEight maids a milkingSeven floggers floggingSix whippers whippingFive Ben Wa ballsFour anal beadsThree stuffed holesTwo nipple clampsAnd a red butt over my knee.

Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is.   Every man needs a good woman in his life. Even if she is just his friend. A good woman adds value to a mans life, no matter what capacity she serves.   

It's odd to me that some men don't understand why there are women on here (and in general) who don't want to do what they want.  Men who contact women dick or fetish first, either visually or through words, and are peeved that the women aren't ready to immediately engage with them the way they expected.  "Hey, lady, if you don't want to do what interests me, why are you even here?!  Since I find you attractive, you have to find me attractive, too!"  How terribly disappointing for them to discover that women have their own interests and come here (and anywhere else) to pursue what they want.  Like, a xxx69MasterChode69xxx or a MrSirDomPencilDick4Lyf are really under the impression that women have been online just waiting for when they would contact them.  There's no other reason a woman would be online.   I know I certainly don't have my own interests and kinks.  Of course not.  I've just been waiting for another pic of an utterly forgettable male member in an endless onslaught of utterly forgettable male members or a lame headless torso, or worse yet, a vanilla guy who thinks a sloppy bj qualifies as "kinky" on a kink site.  I'm interested in pursuing my own kinks with the people who interest me.  I don't care what a guy wants.  I didn't ask about his fetishes.  I don't request pictures, so I'm not trying to see someone's face, body, or dick.  And unless my curiosity has been piqued enough that I'd be open to pursuing anything with a guy, none of those things are relevant to me.  I am here for my reasons, my kinks, my sexual pursuits.  They don't have to be the same as yours.  I am not going to pander to what a guy wants just because he wants it.  

just surviving a heart attack puts a lot into perspective, currently off work while they get my blood pressure under control. So far it's been 2 months since I ended up in hospital following the heart attack. There's only me now that my wife passed away a few years ago. We got into the lifestyle together both being dominant in our other relationships and so we went to munches, kink events and exhibitions. We'd watch the rope training, suspension bondage and anything else that took our fancy. We were approached to start training submissive's initially just fem identifying and fem gender, but it progressed to subs/sissies and febboy/girls. They would live-in with us and train, kind of a course and they would leave with a certificate back to their owners. Since she's passed, I've done it a few more times on my own keeping up the training. But the heart attack made me realize that when they leave it's just back to being me on my own again. Which i'm now seeing as sucks lol.

Open thought: I am into meeting up with one or two saine kinky men, have a good time and then move on. Again I have met 2 European men from this site so far.  Sex to them was great but for me was only ok. I prefer to keep things casual, be open to dating or be open to having a level of intimacy where we create a safe space and say this is our sexual refuge and take it from there. I get messages from men who initiate they want to stay with me longterm and use the word "marriage" and talk about they have had 3 longterm relationships in the life - snore. So this means I have to commit to someone I don't get to know first? That to me is rude.  It means you don't respect starting a true relationship.  It means you hope to get a full invite into my flat. You want to travel from France and Romania and stay with me and then monitor who I am with and how I keep to myself and then, what use my place and then come and go as you like?   What you need is Air BnB, I will look for someone who I can get to know, who I can trust but I don't have to be bound to them when I find out they are not for me. I found out the last 2 were not for me the fish can go back into the sea and I can put my net back in the pond and move on.

Welcome Home, Little Princess Are you looking for a place where you can truly be yourself? We are seeking a "little girl" princess who needs a new home and a fresh start. Here, you will have your very own princess room and a sister to talk to. Our household includes a supportive Daddy Dom, a Domme, and sister in a family dedicated to helping you adjust and transition.  You’ll eventually meet your "older sister," who recently graduated and now lives and works in the city. When she visits, she may even stay in your room, as it was once hers. Her journey wasn't easy. Daddy rescued her from people who suppressed her true self, forcing her to wear masculine clothes and hide her identity. When she first arrived, she struggled with guilt and even tried to run away, but Daddy kept his promise never to let her go back. Once she felt safe, she embraced her life here, leaving all responsibilities to Daddy. She flourished—attending cosmetology school, beginning her hormonal transition, and undergoing facial refinements. Daddy took her to fetish balls and dance clubs in beautiful dresses and heels, where she made many friends. She also loved helping with our lifestyle parties. Dressed in her maid outfit, she was the star of the house; guests always flocked to the party when they knew Daddy’s girl was serving. She also cherished her training sessions, where Daddy pushed her to her limits during their "in and out" workouts. Now that she has grown up and moved into the city, her room is open and waiting for Daddy’s next little girl.

Let me be honest for a second… I don’t love submissive men because they’re “easy.” I love them because they know their place—and watching a grown man compete for the privilege of doing what I say? That’s my kind of entertainment. See, submissive men are like my personal comedy show and stress relief all in one. Need something? They’re already halfway out the door. Want attention? They’re hanging on my every word. I say “jump” and suddenly I’m getting a TED Talk on vertical efficiency. And don’t get it twisted—this isn’t charity work. I don’t “take care” of subs. I use them. For amusement. For service. For that sweet, sweet satisfaction of watching a man melt just because I smiled his way. So yeah… I love submissive men. They make life fun, they keep me entertained, and best of all? They never forget who the star of the show is. (Hint: it’s me.)

Chastity - Week 95 Today is day 666 of my chastity journey, the 41st day of being locked constantly 24/7. The openness design of this cage allows me to be squeaky clean without removing it. i didn't think the 24/7 constant locking would be so humbling.   Chastity is not always a punishment                                                                Chastity can be a sign of adoration                                                                  Chastity is not always an acknowledgement of inferiority                                Chastity can be a sign of strength and dedication    As the waves of submissiveness wash over me                                          The longing to serve deepens to serve deepens      

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

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.  

profiles take far too long to update on here, so here is what would be my updated profile...    Friendly notice:  *Please read before messaging - it’ll save us both time :)*    These are just *my* preferences, no offence intended.    - Age range **29-45** -  **NO** interest in joining an existing couple/dynamic -  **NO** interest in married/partnered up men - **NO** interest in online/cyber relationships  - **NO** interest in one off meets  - **NO** interest in switching  - **PLEASE** do **NOT** send me dick pics or request any nudes from me   The Vanilla Stuff:   I am 26 years old and I live alone in a sleepy little village in Oxfordshire. I currently work part time. I enjoy spending my free time socialising with my friends/family, going for long country walks, swimming, dining out and weekends away. I passed my driving test earlier in the year so I am always taking myself on adventures. I am lucky enough to be well travelled and have been on some amazing holidays to beautiful countries. I love cooking and baking (I make a mean cookie). I used to work for a local radio station so I have a strong passion for music… anything 70’s or 80’s. I don’t watch much TV but I do have a slight obsession with the BBC series ‘Inside No. 9’ (if you’ve never seen it, you’re in for a treat!)    I am very calm, patient, honest, understanding and I like to think a caring person. I always try to see the best in people, and will always do what I can to help and support others. I like to have a laugh, and would say I have a somewhat dry and at times dark sense of humour.    Now is probably a good time to mention that... **I am autistic**. Please don't let this put you off. I’d like to make it clear that being autistic does not hold me back in life. I am able to work, I live alone, I drive, and I lead a fairly “normal” life. For me it mostly means that I struggle in some social situations, especially when meeting new people, or going to new unfamiliar places - although I always try to push myself and overcome these social barriers. I don’t let being autistic hold me back or dominate (the irony) my life. If you’d like to know more then feel free to ask me any questions. I’ve written a couple of things **(see below)** which may be helpful.    - [A guide for potential Doms ](https://fetlife.com/users/15225326/posts/10736910) - [Autism, kink and me ](https://fetlife.com/users/15225326/posts/10736903)   I am very much a ‘plain Jane’. I don’t cover myself in make-up, fake tan, and I have never used fillers. I am more comfortable in long dress tops and leggings than overly revealing clothing. I am 5’3, curvy, have shoulder length auburn hair, hazel eyes, mostly wear glasses, and have very pale skin.     The Kinky Stuff:   For as long as I can remember I have always been interested in the idea of BDSM and being submissive, even before I knew what BDSM was I found myself having thoughts of wanting to be tied up, humiliated, degraded, hurt, and used and abused during sex. All my previous relationships had been very vanilla, so I never had a chance to explore my submissive side until a few years ago when I began seeing an older guy. He was not a Dom, but he was kinky as fuck… he would restrain me, gag and blindfold me, use canes, floggers and riding crops on me, and have rougher sex with me - to date he’s the only guy to ever make me cum! Since then I have craved nothing more than to explore my submissive side fully within a D/s or M/s dynamic.    My kinks include: *impact play, breath play, restraints, edge play, humiliation, degradation, face slapping, nipple torture, blindfolds, gags, punishments, praise, orgasm control/denial, hair pulling, rough sex, TPE, CNC and much, much more **(see my fetish list at the bottom of my profile).*** Safe words and aftercare are super important and non negotiable.    I am at a point now in my life where I am very happy and settled. I feel ready to start looking for a Dom/Master who I can go on a BDSM journey with. I no longer have any interest in finding a purely vanilla relationship. So… I am looking for an experienced Dom with a dark/sadistic streak who would be willing to take his time to train and guide me on this journey at a slow and steady pace. I realise that my wants from a dynamic probably mean I am more of a slave than a sub...I’m looking for a Master/Dom who over time I can **fully** submit to - in and out of the bedroom. A Dom who has a majority of control over my life, eg - full sexual control, control over my appearance, over my body and mind, over day to day activities etc. ideally - TPE eventually. A dynamic with rules which if broken result in punishments. A dynamic where my sole purpose is to fulfil the needs of my Dom. I crave nothing more than to be owned. To be the property of a Dom.   I am looking for **long term and regular,** with the end goal to be to eventually live together. I’m **not** looking for a dynamic where a Dom barks orders at me, cuts me off from the outside world and keeps me locked in his basement all day, every day. But where I can look after the house, prepare meals, do all the cleaning and laundry etc. what some may refer to as ‘1950’s living’. (I’d still be happy to remain working and help toward bills if that was agreed upon.) For me this ins't just about having rough sex and a bit of kinky fun, it means much more than that to me... maybe my autism plays a part in that, the want and need for structure and routine in life...   I prefer guys who are older **(29-45)**, who take good care of themselves, are respectful, caring and are drama free. I have no issues if you have children but I do **NOT** want children of my own.      End:   If you're interested then please feel free to message me. I have quite a few writings on my profile about myself, my (limited) previous kinky experiences, fantasies and information about my autism, so please take a look. I never respond to instant sex chat/stories or dick pics.    Ideally I’d prefer it if you can host or we meet in hotels to begin with - due to my autism I do not feel comfortable even having my friends and family over at my house, it's my sanctuary/safe space. I drive and enjoy driving, so distance is not a huge issue for me.    Unfortunately it’s got to the stage where I will just ignore messages from anybody that is outside of my preferred age range, or married, seeking an online dynamic or ONS, etc… I am simply not interested and far too many people just don’t respect this, so please do not be offended if I don’t respond, but that’s probably why.    As so many people don't tend to bother to read profiles on here, please let me know you have done so while messaging me! I hope to hear from you!  ~ M x   

Well I'm back on here again to o guess make it more clear on what I am not. There are men on here that really think there Gods gift to women. There's men on her that think that they are here that think that they can try to  seduce you by saying words about their fantasies. There's also men on here. I think women are pieces of meat or for their pleasure only, that their toys, or they want to be abusive,. I am here to figure out what I want. I know what I don't want. I don't want a man that thinks that he can control me. because I know 90% sure that I did not want a man the things that they can control me because that's not. I'm looking for. Always been a strong independent woman I plan to be an independent woman. I will not have a man dictate on what I can can wear. If I'm paying my own bills and buy more clothes and whatever else I have, and even if somebody else is paying for it, I am not a slave nor will I ever be. maybe this is the wrong site for me to be on. I don't know. 

  Hooded, cuffed, naked to the waist,  he smelled the car, heard the sounds of the engine cooling. Her smell, that too mingled with the smell of fear in his leather clad nostrils.     The door to the entrance of the townhouse was one step up and forward. By grabbing his belt and firmly tugging, she lead him up the step. His shoes stumbled, explored and found their footing.  Softly, with a definite and solid thud, the door closed behind him. The metallic click of the door lock was unmistakable.   An anti room perhaps. Mud room? Laundry room? Utility room?   The floor was ceramic tile. He realized it when she unbuckled his belt and unfastened his pants. Without any word of command or explanation, he felt his trousers and shorts pushed to his ankles. He imagined her face near his naked crotch as he felt her gripping his leg and intuitively understood she wanted his shoes off and one leg at a time his trousers were gone. Through his socks, he felt the cold hard tile.   He almost lost his balance and fell when he felt her hair brush his inner thigh as she stood up.   He felt himself shiver in the coolness of the room but trickles of sweat ran down each side of his torso from under his armpits.   Suddenly he had the urge to pee. How would he make her understand? Unconsciously he began to dance that childish dance of holding back the yellow stream.

My Future Mistress I sometimes daydream about you. It is amazing how someone can become so part of your blood. I realize that you will naturally have such a deep power over me. My slave heart would easily recognize you by your demeanor. A mere gaze from you would steal my will like losing my breath, I would be captured. I would involuntarily tremble with an intense excitement and vulnerability, knowing that you own me so naturally. Furthermore, I would feel myself beginning to kneel at your feet hopelessly enamored, as if your presence alone had instructed me to do so. As if my soul was specially synced and celebrated with yours as its only primary user. My soul would be glued to yours, anticipating whatever your will was for me, and then obeying you with such zeal, that there wouldn't ever be a question of whether I'd comply. Your life would become my life. I would not have a life of my own anymore, but my purpose would be something you own. Your world would be my world, and your goals would become my goals to help you achieve. There is so much generic role playing in this lifestyle, driven primarily by sexual kinks. But what I would be feeling at this moment, is not what I could do for myself, but what I could do for my Queen. It would be the epitome of subspace. My eyes would search yours, hoping you truly see that I am genuinely connected and at your disposal. My heart would only be quenched by receiving your approval and acceptance. A person can not truly own anyone unless they first own their soul.  

I walked in, saw her, sat down and was pleased when she lowered her eyes from mine.  The munch suddenly didn't smother like usual. I took her home, got down to skivvies, but she wouldn't lower them for her spanking, which earned her an introduction to Earnie.  Rhino Hide thudds so soundly.  She kept begging for more. After I came all over her back, I got her dressed and we sat down over coffee, and talked.  She was slightly annoyed when the subject of her masculine gender taped up under those skivvies had not been her giveaway.  I had spotted her as the CrossDresser she was, in the same breath that I spotted her deeply seated masochism.  We spent the summer bruising her.  I did insist on silk panties for the rest of our sessions.  It does a wonderful job of administering a bruise from the cane or batt that cotton tiddy-whities cannot.  I built stocks, hoisting timbers, made leather suspension cuffs that broke when we tried them.  I was crushed, darn it.  Stuck to shibari after that.

I have always said I do not want a 24/7 kink relationship.  I fear that I will lose me. The me that I took so long to understand and love.  But I was recently communicating with a Master who was looking for just such a relationship.  My initial thought was I don't want that and we discussed it and that prompted me to do alot more thinking on the matter. I am already seeking someone who can take charge and lead. Someone who can help silence my racing thoughts and set my mind free. Someone who will treat me like the special person I am and bring out my full submission and dedication.  Now I wonder if I am letting my fear hold me back. That is typical for me, to be honest.  Maybe 24/7 is what I need. Maybe I just don't understand my needs.  I wonder if meeting the right person would mean there will be no more questions. Maybe with the right one there would be no question about my full and freely given submission. No more worry about losing a part of myself.  Maybe........ XOXOXO

Master's WritingsCreating a DynamicThe dynamic I want to create has its foundation in trust, open communication and pure honesty. These pave the way for how we relate to each other, how much of ourselves we will give and let go within the dynamic, and how safe we feel to be owned or to own another. The greater the foundation, the deeper the dynamic, and I seek genuine, tremendous depth.The best dynamics allow both kink and vanilla elements to flourish. Even in a total 24/7 dynamic there are vanilla elements that impact and are necessary to the health of the greater dynamic. To ignore this is to ignore the human you wish to create the dynamic with.Dynamics must be flexible and ever evolving. They are living breathing things when done correctly. They require nurturing, maintenance, and love, just as those who live within them do. As individuals, we all have needs. We evolve. We grow, and so too must dynamics. There must be flexibility to bend to whims of the moment, grow as the tastes and needs of the individuals evolve, and be reborn when people, situations and events take us off track.Finally, dynamics must reflect all participants. I seek a collaborative development of a dynamic where each has an appropriate voice, with opportunity to step outside of roles as needed for essential conversations to ensure none are forgotten as we build and rebuild our dynamic over time.Creating this dynamic has been my dream for longer than I can remember. But no one person can create this on their own. It requires another who feels this need as greatly as I do.

The only people I judge are judgmental people themselves. OK, and people who've asked me to judge them. But that totally muddies the nice, clean quote. ;) I have kicked around this scene of ours for long enough that I remember when YKINMKBIOK was plain survival. Before the web got into every home, if you knew a few people in your area, who were into kink, you clung to them. It didn't matter that I was into the mental side of things, into D/s, while one of them was into sploshing, another into male masochism and the third was into vinyl. That there were three others who were just as weird as me was AMAZING. The huge growth of the scene, that we worked hard for, has been a huge blessing. But it's also given us so many others, that we can find so easily, it's easy to slip into judging others because, well, we'll have plenty of friends left. Don't like the way they do rope? Let's label them as wrong or dangerous. Squick over diapers? Let's call them freaks and borderline pedophiles. Don't like the way they do heavy mental play? Clearly abusers! And look how much better it makes our insecure selves feel about ourselves that we've managed to tear down others! That's not me. I can't do it. I'm not into Daddy/little. I'm not into diapers. Fifty Shades isn't my BDSM ideal. Mind you, I'm not a huge fan of O, or Gor, either. But I love that others are! I love that you freaks and perverts have  so much passion for the things you love. I think it's amazing, the really strong relationships you build around your interests. I am so deeply, deeply, happy that you can find peace in who you are. Your Kink Is Not My Kink But It's OK. It's more than OK. Not for me, but I love that it works for you and good luck to you!

  slave rules slave must only use the 3rd person to refer to itself slave must confess that is is just an or garbage slave must always be honest slave may not have dignity or respect of any kind slave must show total respect for Master or any humans slave may not speak without permission slave make not look at its Master without permission or look at other humans slave is always wrong if its Master or another human tells it so slave may not use a human name slave must always accept punishment, abuse, or a beating if it pleases its Owner Master slave may only live if it pleases her Owner Master slave must never close its legs, they always must be apart its holes must be available to its Master any time or any place  it must use every part of its body to please Master  slave must always be nude when it pleases its Masters   slave must be chained or tie up any time it pleases Master  slave must dress any way its Master orders it to dress  slave may never talk back or say "NO" to her Master  slave must always speak in a low sweet voice  slave may never own anything   slave may never use big words or else it must be punished  slave Master has complete control of how it moves: walk, crawl, speak, breaths, kneel, etc  slave must worship its Master’s cock and all of his body  slaves Master pleasure matters, its pleaser means nothing  slave must never edge its self without permission or take any sexual pleasure without permission slave dignity or feelings are worthless slave must not sit or use human furniture unless it is given permission  slave must ask to enter or leave a room slave must ask to poo or pee  slave must whip, cane, or abuse its body when ordered to  slave must drink piss, cum, spit when it is ordered to  slave may not remove spit, cum, or piss from its body unless it is ordered to  slave must not sleep unless order to  slave must use degrading names when it refers to its self, for example: piss pot, cunt, inferior human, cum bucket, ugly, pig, whore, sick o, tits, ass hole, cunt hole, slave, fuck toy,   slave may never speak to another human without permission slave must thank Master for using it, for allowing it to cum slave must clean off Master's great cock after he is done using it slave must perform any sexual act that it is ordered to do, no matter how degrading, painful or humiliating slave must write down every single thought is has for its Owner Master's review slave must sleep on the floor, or in its cage, cell when it is not serving its Master slave must eat on the floor and its food must be cold with little taste unless it is given permission to eat people's food. its hands must always be behind its back slave must now beg for anything it needs, food, water, etc, it must beg to be punished, abuse, beaten also     ***slave may be punished or abuse or beaten because it deserves it because it is inferior, stupid, weak, and worthless cunt   ***slave must repeat its rules over and over every day

Her head dipped down as his hard cock almost jumped up to her mouth. She licked her lips as her mouth watered for him. She pushed his cock passed her partly parsed lips letting his cock pop in to her mouth, and then she pressed him deep. Her throat opened for him as she took him all the way down to his base as she swallowed, moving her throat. Her tongue rolling like the river as she pulled him out slowly so she could breathe and then plunged him deeply again. Her body started dripping, she always got so wet when she was taking him deeply. Like her vagina was jealous of the attention. She pulled him out and licked his head, placing a soft sweet kiss in the head of his cock before pressing him in deeply again, her hand slowly finding his balls and the other the base, as she founds the moves that make his body sing and his spirit live. She wants him to gift her with his seed, as she presses him in deep again, his hands found her curls, as he wrapped both his hands on the side of her head. He started moving with her movements fucking her throat, as he pumped hard and rough his cock swelled and then his body tightened filling her, shooting his hot sweet gift deeply down her throat. He slowly let go and leaned back, as she sat up. And cuddled back in to him. He ran his hands down her hair.

In 2014, I began the process of changing a 40 acre farm over to a 40 acre nature sanctuary. I began by planting wildflowerrs and trees where the row crops used to grow. I also created a very large indoor grow in one of my comercial buildings and in 2019, a  machine shop in another comercial building. Together, these replace the income lost due to stopping the row crops. Covid came along and threw a wrench in things but I've gotten things back on track. I wanted to staff the machine shop and the grow with lifestyle folks and it has taken me awhile but I have found my first couple and they are moved in. I am happy to announce a new profile over on Fetlife.com Come and view us and if you are a sub or slave couple or a sub or slave female, you just might want to throw in with us. Look for HomesteadFamily on Fetlife.com Here is to hoping we all find what we seek. Larry B. Owner      

Sub frenzy isn’t devotion. It’s a full blown psychological house fire and you’re standing in the middle of it, smiling like it’s candlelight. It starts as hunger. Then it becomes need. Then it becomes override everything just don’t lose this. And that’s where it gets dangerous not just for the submissive spiraling, but for anyone holding the other end of that dynamic. Because let’s be very clear If you’re a Dominant and you don’t recognize sub frenzy, you are either inexperienced or you’re part of the problem. Frenzy is loud if you know what to look for. It’s the rushed attachment. The “I’ll do anything” energy way too early. The collapsing boundaries. The constant seeking of approval like oxygen. The way they mold themselves to you before you’ve even proven you’re safe to hold that kind of power. That is not a green light. That is a warning flare. A submissive in frenzy is not in a grounded place to consent cleanly, to negotiate clearly, or to advocate for themselves when something goes wrong. Their “yes” can be soaked in fear of losing you instead of genuine desire. And if you take advantage of that if you push, escalate, or feed off that desperation without slowing them down? That’s not dominance. That’s exploitation with a title. A real D type doesn’t just take control they manage the state of the person they’re engaging with. They watch for the cracks. They check in. They pull things back when the energy gets unstable, even if it would be easier and more gratifying not to. Sometimes the most dominant thing you can do is say, “Stop. Breathe. We’re not moving forward like this.” Because power without responsibility is just dressedup harm. But here’s the part people don’t like to hear: Even with awareness, even with check-ins, even with good intentions sometimes a dynamic still turns toxic. Maybe the submissive stays in frenzy and refuses to ground. Maybe the Dominant starts enjoying the control a little too much and stops caring about impact. Maybe communication breaks down and what started as connection turns into damage. When that happens, you don’t “push through.” You don’t “fix it with more intensity.” You don’t cling harder like that’s going to magically make it healthy. You leave. Yeah leave. I don’t care how good it felt at the start. I don’t care how strong the pull is. I don’t care how rare you think it is. If the dynamic is harming you mentally, emotionally, physically you step out of it like your sanity matters more than the connection. Because it does. Staying in something toxic and calling it devotion is just a slower way to self-destruct. And for the submissives drowning in that frenzy spiral: You are not “failing” by pulling back. You are not “less submissive” for needing stability. You are not weak for choosing yourself over a dynamic that’s eating you alive. And for the Dominants: If someone is unraveling in your hands and your response isn’t to steady them but to tighten your grip? You need to check yourself before you wreck someone. Because this isn’t a game of who can fall the hardest. It’s about who can hold power without turning it into a weapon. Sub frenzy will make you forget that. Grounded connection will remind you. And if you have to choose between being consumed or being whole? You already know the right answer. Even if it hurts like hell to act on it.  

I saw this on Reddit. thought it was a good list so sharing it here: Lots of people talk about Red Flags, but what about green flags? Let's talk about green flags. The things you want to recognize as a potential good partner. 1.They ask about your limits and check in on you during play. 2. They encourage you to have other friendships in the scene. 3. You can talk to them transparently in and out of dynamic 4. You have compatible kinks to play with. 5. They actively seek out enthusiastic consent. 6. They embrace the constant negotiations and renegotiation that is part of relationships 7. The lack of drama is a bit boring but really cozy. People just do not talk about the fact that healthy relationships just do not have that drama cycle. 8. They are respectful and nice to people they do not want to fuck. 9. Their ex's are not all 'crazy". Talks about exs with respect. If someone only has 'crazy' exs then I am thinking they is a crazy maker ie they are reacting to their bad behavior. 10. They are a safe driver. Shitty drivers most likely will not be safe with you either. 11. They do not shit on your interests, in fact they encourage you to develop yourself. 12. They do not ask for nudes right away.

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