I haven't been on this site in over a year. It took me about 10 tries to remember my password. I'm not sure how I feel about peeking in again. Same old, same old maybe.   For anyone new tripping over my profile for the first time, I'm currently 59 years old, and many of my pictures here are over 5 years old. Some of the earlier ones are closer to 10 years old, so keep that in mind. I'm not updating anything though since this site is so glitchy. If you want to see more recent pictures, I have active profiles on FetL-f- under the names Neolloydia and SoulSiren. Otherwise, all the info on my profile is accurate. I'm only interested in making local in-person connections.   I will add that to me, kink is something you layer on top of a healthy vanilla relationship. In no way, shape or form can kink replace a healthy vanilla relationship, imho. Therefore, I won't engage in S&M with anyone I don't like as a person, and I won't have sex with anyone I'm not in a healty mutually beneficial relationship with. Keeping this in mind, If you reach out and our conversation goes well, I will want to meet quickly and see how we click face to face on an old-fashioned vanilla date, and go from there.   Happy 2026 Everyone!

Mentioning the age is off limits here but my training lasted 8 years and was my first sexual experience.  I knew I had to keep quiet about it but it was the only thing positive going on in my life in those years.  Life at home was miserable; girls weren't interested because I'm so short.  I couldn't compete in sports even if I had wanted to.  But 2 or 3 afternoons every week I learned more and more about how to overcome my height deficit and be useful and likeable for men.   From day one, it was drilled into me to keep my hands and my mind on him, not on myself.  That was the most important part when training for sexual submission.  To this day, I will not touch myself when anyone is using me.  It's all about my partner and their pleasure, about keeping all the energy moving toward them.

UPDATE ON MOBILITY ISSUES 2/16/2025.  The mobility issues I have will probably not improve.  The back can only be changed with surgeries that require breaking the spinal column and placing metal supports around it.  It is an extremely lengthy process with an even longer recovery time and there are absolutely no guarantees of success.  That diagnosis was bleak but the knee and hip surgeon will not do any work until I can stand upright.  That is not an option given the path to get there.  My physical therapist says I can only work on keeping the process from getting worse, not making it better. So here we are. UPDATE ON SITUATION AND LIFE ISSUES:  You may or may not know but updating a profile requires weeks of waiting and inability to receive any correspondence during that waiting time.  I think that is why so many profiles are outdated, especially on the age of the profile owner.  I am one of the ones who have not done an update so here are the new things one should know: I will be 78 in October I have a collared slave I found at the very end of 2015 and I offered him his collar in April of 2021. I am looking for another to join us in our family but that person will need to be very unique.  Notice I said our family meaning both of us need to approve the person.  That part is very difficult to accomplish with long distances from each other.  My current slave committed to a 30 day trial and chose not to leave at the end of it.  He went back to the place where he lived, packed up his belongings and brought them to his new home within a few days. This is not the end of my story and hopefully my writings will reflect more.

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

  This is, I think, my first Journal Entry. I have written responses to several profiles posted by women on this site.  I have never included a "laundry list of activities", but rather simply presented myself as a submissive male in search of LTR with a lady who desires to take the lead in a relationship. I have had little luck with this approach, having actually met 2 women, one of which judged me too old (76 then) and still under 80 now.  I have read many profiles posted by dominant women here, not a few of which express frustration about subs "who want to top from the bottom" and a like number who seem to not like for sub men to say what they  want in the way of activities.  At the same time some women have an exhaustive "laundry list" of actiities in which they are interested, Recently, I responded to such a profile and before doing so, I printed a 3 or 4 page laundry list of activites from the lady's laundry list.  I responded by giving information about my knowledge, inteest, experience, like or dislike, or opinion of each item on the list.  Because CS system doesnt seem to like really long responses to profiles, I broke it down in 4 or 5 diffeent messages.  To my surprise, the lady read them all, whch is the opposite of my experience with most of my other responses.  She sent me a not telling me she liked the  detailed responses to her laundry list, even thanked me for it.  Of coursel I was rejected, but it was better than beilng ignored. So, tell me please, ladies, do you really want such detailed responses to you profiles on the first contact?  Or, is the problem more about being between 76 and 80, is just too old to begin with?? with respect, dachastesub

Detecting stolen pictures in a profileWant to find out if a picture has appeared elsewhere on the web? There are three good ways I know of: Google Image Search (https://www.google.com/imghp), Tineye (http://www.tineye.com/), and Yandex (https://yandex.com/images/). Google is fairly comprehensive, but Tineye sometimes finds some that Google does not. Yandex finds lots that neither of the other two do.Just open Google Image Search and drag the pic from another window onto it* (first onto the tab, then when the tab appears, onto the main target page; a target area will appear). This is all one drag operation; don't release on the tab or you'll just go to the Collarspace profile.The same technique works with Tineye and Yandex except the entire tab page is the target.*There are some browser plugins for Tineye – but I suggest that adding plugins to a browser that aren’t necessary just slows it down; I recommend not bothering.*Collarspace sometimes does some security stuff that breaks the direct-drag URL access described above (Google will complain: "The URL doesn't refer to an image, or the image is not publicly accessible."). If the direct drag doesn't work directly, first drag the pic to your desktop, then in a separate operation, drag the result to search application.(Last updated: 10 Feb 2022)

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

It sure seems like there are many, many Dominants on this site that *want* to find a sub who will desire, obey, heed, do, etc. as they direct  and tell them to do, but when I ask them, Are you worth it? they often get angry and defensive. I think instead the smart and experienced Dominant will indeed be able to answer that question from an interested submissive with an accurate, honest, and appealing list of how they  have taken care and managed themselves well, first and foremost.  I stand firmly in the Do as I say Do as I do camp within a dynamic. So many men who contact me aren't Dominant at all, and the first sign is that they cannot or have not positively Dominanted themselves to a level of respectabilty and dare I say excellence, that both enhances themselves and attracts a potential sub to their side. Read that again!  We all have physical issues, personality issues, baggage, etc., that we have acquired over the decades, and I can't fault anyone for  living life, but it's ALL in what we do with said issues and baggage that makes the Dominant and makes the sub a good match. And please, have the astuteness to know when someone is on your level or not. Think Like Attracts Like, or at least start there when contacting or considering a potential.  Be honest with yourself and that person, and always look in the mirror before heading out!   

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

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

Creating My household - Chat. Meet. Do.   Lifetime position - Primary care attendant for My mother with Mid/late stage Alzheimer's.  Google it.  36 Hour day.  Live it.    Requirements:  Genteel.  Never use harsh words or swear.  Affectionate.  Exceptional grasp of the English language. Knowledgeable and amenable.  Must like dogs.  Short day trips - movies, lunch, thrifting.  Ensuring proper daily exercise.  Naughty nice school boys to the head of the line.     This position works well for someone who likes to be in the home and on hand, actively engaged in domestic duties, preparing meals and calmly engaging mother with leisure activities.    I will be responsible for My mothers personal and grooming needs until such time as a slave is well and thoroughly installed.  Personal services may then be granted.

Goodness I blocked two guys before breakfast today. I want a slave near me who drives so we can go enjoy munch evenings together and fetish clubs too. Cinema and meals out. Because I am a Dominant Woman that is "usual" for me. I want someone easy on the eye so no older than 40 and single.   Not too much of a list I thought. But as many women everywhere comment on here, guys are not reading profiles= I copy/paste replies to avoid the monotony.    1. First guy was living in Germany 1 hour away he said. The point is he doesn't live near me in the UK. I lead so it was no. Pushy got him blocked.   2. Guy was 65 so I declined as late nights bring.on the moans from older guys= it's late/music is so loud etc. Not my thing so MY choice is the guy is a certain age bracket. Guy us pushy gets blocked.   They need to put NOTE to self Google what Woman Led Relationship is=the Woman Leads=ME.  3. The late entry to be blocked. Another free ProDomme seeker who doesn't accept a FLR is ME the Woman leads. Period. Accept that or get blocked. Simple.    

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

Many times I get the question about what happens when two tops meet. The concept of two dominant males sharing some sort of intimacy seems contradictory, after all no one conceives a dom without a sub. That is not always the case and I will, like in all my journals speak from experience.  There is a degree of power exchange between Doms and I do not talk about silly posturing and drama. If two dominant males find themselves alone and aware of each other,s preference coue of things will happen. Like I said there are degrees of asserting domination and sometimes one will yield and becomes submissive to the more dominant male.  There are reasons for this behavior, one is the overwhelming realization that amongst equals there is alway a better masks and truly no shame comes from realizing and internalizing that fact. I'm not implying the the more submissive is and will be a sub the rest of their life, no. What I am saying is that recognizing g who is the better man is what defines the boundaries of intimacy.  I have friends that have their fair share of submissives but once in a while they will come to me to serve and be bred. after, back to being a top. But why this behavior? Like I said overwhelmed by.  Dryer male they yearn to serve and be intimate. If a dime submits must be to someone better than them and someone they appreciate both as male and Bull. The other scenario I've experience is that broth being powerful males and bulls there is no submitting.  How then is that encounter? What I have experienced is the act of respectful admiration of each other bodies and rods. Eventually, it will get to self exploration and release by mastication. There is no phisicl contact but the admiration that can only a true bull can bestow on another bull.  It is very intense to have two powerful males together, alone, and horny. Their mutual pheromones make the atmosphere thick and  eventually there’s only one way out, taking matters in our own hands. there is no mystery, two males will do what comes naturally and either occupy their place or remain on top gloriously alone. That's the natural order of things. 

I got some feed back on my last journal entry and thouht I should try to clear up some points.The topic of "collar of consideration or under consideration collars" is one that has been discussed among Masters and slaves.Our houser believes that the Master who has placed a slave under consideration is either having trouble deciding whether they want the slave to be a part of their house, or they want the pleasure of controlling and using the slave without committing to the responsibility of ownership.Both actions are fundamentally wrong. If the Master is unsure if the slave is worthy of wearing their collar, they should communicate with the slave and discuss any concerns they may have.Collaring a slave is a serious commitment that should not be taken lightly. A Master should reveal to the slave what is expected of them if they wear the Master's collar and what their boundaries and duties will be. The slave has a simple, yet complex duty, to please the desires and will of the Master. In reality, it is the slave who should offer themselves to the Master for enslavement and collaring, not the other way around.The goal of the Master is to help the slave become the best slave it can be and to guide them to that end. My house has never personally offered a collar to a slave, but has learned from more experienced couples in the lifestyle to wait until it is asked for. MasterG

The Final Touches   She had been sent here for the final touches, she was now old enough to be taught what would be expected of her. Dressed in official school attire she looked resplendent in her pleated skirt, white blouse, short white socks and lace up shoes. Her hair was up in a pony, as she had been told was the custom. Outside the principal's office the hallway was deserted, everyone else had gone for the day. The school secretary sat behind her desk filling out some tedious form or other, she didn't look away from her work, leaving Tara to look her up and down. Late 40s she guessed, maybe early 50s, blonde shoulder length hair, formally dressed, lipstick seemed a little red and garish for the setting but it certainly caught the eye. Time passed slowly. She wasn't sure how long she had been there and the clock on the wall seemed to tick at a glacial pace. "In my office Ms Tara", she heard a deep voice say from behind the door. As she tried to get her bearings the secretary looked at her, "Well? Don't keep him waiting girl." She grabbed her purse and hurriedly walked to the door, then stopped. Deep breath, focus, she took a brief second to adjust herself, and opened the door. "Hello Mr ..." she started to say "You address me as Sir, just Sir" came a response that cut her off abruptly "Hello Sir" she replied "Come in". He gestured to the front of his desk.  She moved to sit down but realised there was no chair, it had been pushed back against the far wall. "You can stand" he said, without any sense or irony knowing it was her only option. "Feet apart 30cm, hands behind your back, stand straight girl" He picked up the cane that she hadn't noticed laying across the desk, and walked slowly behind her. Gently he tapped the inside of each calf. "30cm girl. You have been sent here for finishing touches, not the basics" She shuffled a bit in place until her cunt was just open enough to tell her that her feet were 30cm apart. "Much better Ms Tara. Work on your basics or we will have to send you to one of the junior classes with the new girls" She could feel herself clenching as she had been taught to do, his cane slowly slid up the inside of her thigh until it was touching her bare cunt. She could feel him gently pulling on it, and as it slid through her lips she clenched tightly. For a second she held the cane firm, she knew he would be pleased with how tight she had gripped it. But he would be even more pleased at how easily it slipped out of her grip when she flooded a moment later. He walked slowly in front of her. "Good girl" he said, "Not a complete beginner then" He slowly pulled the cane across her blouse, across her nipples, cleaning her juices off his cane, and highlighting both hard nipples clearly through the damp circles on the thin top. "There girl, when you are aroused it is good to show it" And by whatever God was willing to listen right now, she was aroused "Thank you Sir", she proudly said

  Extremely few Mistresses/Masters have actually the capability; the discipline, the economic and mental ability to keep a slave. The problem is that many Dominants takes Ownership easy, proclaiming themselves Mistress-Masters and disregard the gravity of these facts due to lack of experience and commitment.   Most who think they want slavery are really looking for D/s     As you can now better understand: Dominance and Submission, or D/s, is not equal to "slavery".       To be submissive is more close to what 99% of those who claim they want to be a "slave", really wants. A submissive has a degree (no matter how tiny) of influence over the relationship. A submissive retains (no matter how few or how ineffectual) rights and liberties; while a Dominant might be able to assuage some of the power a submissive retains, the submissive does, in fact, retain the real power.   A real slave has no such power whatsoever. In fact, a slave has nothing at all, only what their owner grants them and that can be taken away without warning. A slave has only such “rights”, “liberties” and “influence” that their owner may, or may not, allow them.     An owner can give the world to their slave, but, in a heartbeat, an owner can take everything back from a slave leaving them, truly, with nothing at all.   A slave has no claim to any power whatsoever. A slave has no entitlement to influence anything.   A slave no longer has any claims to natural civil rights or liberties. Whatever a slave might have has been given to them by their owner, and even then it is an illusion as, in reality, the owner owns the slave – therefore the owner owns everything the slave appears to own.   A slave does not have possessions – a slave is a possession. Some people say that, in a D/s relationship, the submissive holds the real power; that a dominant "needs" a submissive, needs their “gift” of submission. That is not the case with a slave.       A submissive deserves respect; respect as a lover, respect as a person, respect as a partner. A submissive maintains the prerogative to choose the level to which they submit; and these levels may vary throughout the relationship. In a D/s relationship, the submissive really controls every aspect of the relationship in a passive manner.   In slavery there exists no “topping from the bottom”. In slavery owner controls absolutely everything with unchangeable power and real authority. (If you had the discipline and invested the time to get that far with your reading, kindly prove Me this by writing "total devotion" with capitals in your message to Me).     Generally estimating, most Dominants could not handle the force and power of the authority of an owner, and most "submissive" would vehemently defy the idea of absolute,total and real ownership. Which is perfectly fine, and expected.   So: now that I have exhaustively attempted to depict the definition of real slavery, and if you still think you are, or want to become a ‘real’ slave, or if you believe you are ready to, and capable of, being a slave or owning your own slave(s), you may pursue with your plans.   This is the basic philosophy of BDSM slavery.   If you don’t share it that is, of course, your prerogative.   And if you, finally, are one of the very few genuine slaves, remember:   THINK CAREFULLY BEFORE YOU COMMIT BECAUSE IT WILL BE YOUR LAST ACT OF FREE WILL. BE WISE, CHOOSE RIGHT.          

Am I a monster? by Sintara » Sat Dec 05, 2009 12:21 pm I am a female sexual sadist. I spend hours on end fantasizing about torturing men. I don't hate men, I love them actually. The more I like them and the more I feel sexually attracted to them the more I want to hurt them. Nothing turns me on more than the whimpering sounds and wincing facial expressions they make or if they cry. I also find myself turned on if I see a guy limping. Its even more exciting to me to see other people who care about them feel sorry for them when they see the injuries they have later. I would love to be able to torture a guy and then send him home to a loved one and get to be a fly on the wall so that I could watch that person feeling bad for them and trying to help them.I obsess over CBT. My fantasies get pretty extreme. I know that there are many sexual sadists out there but I feel like a monster because my fantasies are so extreme. I feel guilty because despite feeling like a monster I also feel a strong desire to find a man who is masochistic enough to allow me to do these things to him. I try not to think about it but I can't stop. I can't get sexually aroused without picturing suffering men in my mind. I collect pictures of injured and tortured men to look at so that later I can have sex with my husband without him knowing how sick I am.I also have a blindness fetish. I would like to find someone who would agree to wear contacts that made them blind so that I could watch them try to make their way around without sight. I would also enjoy hurting them without them being able to see when it was coming. I might make him complete tasks for me blind so I could watch him struggle. With contacts instead of a blindfold I chould still fully see their facial expressions, which are very important to me. Then I would be aroused enough to have sex with them. I would want them to still wear the contacts during sex so I was in complete control.I'm so tortured by all of this because my husband called me a "sexual psychopath" and I have to hide it from him now. It has ruined our sex life. I'm addicted to it and don't know what to do. SintaraConsumer 4 Posts: 92Joined: Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:57 amLocal time: Wed Apr 20, 2022 12:37 pmBlog: View Blog (0)

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 

Hello my fellow kinksters.   I am so glad that this site brought back the ability to add new journal entries.   Today's rant boys and girls is...   Does no one want to be an exceptional submissive or slave anymore?   All I get are young gamers who want to escape their pathetic life that they created and live in a basement somewhere. WTF!   Or old guys who were cross dressing back in the day that now list themselves as " Trans" because they think it's cool to do that now.   News flash..just because your fat ass found a dress to squeeze into doesn't make you automatically a Trans.   Being Trans is way more than that and the Trans slaves slaves that I have had and Trans friends I have would tell you the same thing.   It seems like everyone in the lifestyle only wants to have casual play and sex.   They want fantasy instead of the reality and hard work that this lifestyle requires to have a long lasting relationship.   Ok, old man lecture over.   Well for now anyways!

Let me clarify what I am seeking here instead of changing my profile.While all the crossdressers having the fantasy of being "kept" and on hormones and living as a woman 24/7 with nothing to do except be a sex toy seem to have plenty of masturbatory fodder, and some constantly write to me seeking this exact thing, let me make a few points as to what I am seeking personally. I am seeking a sincere PART TIME cd, closeted or not, that is willing to work hard as a male in the day and switch into femme mode at nights and on weekends. If you believe some sort of a collapse is NOT coming and think everything is going to be just hunky-dory in the future, then please move on from my profile and back to your fantasy world. I am looking for people that share my vision; to be living on a ranch and create a sustainable life. If we need to go off grid that is certainly an option that I am getting prepared for. But it is HARD work. I know, I know, nobody wants to do that anymore. If you are willing to put in the time, and the effort, the rewards will be great. As far as our mutual crossdressing fetish goes, we will indulge that every chance we get. I am the strict Domme Mommy type and very into tight and shiny fetish wear and bondage games. I seek someone that can find her place at my feet. I am hopeful there is one c/d out there that all this resonates with and wishes to relocate. If so, write. 

I am a heterosexual submissive transwoman named Julie, and one of the several categories for which the modern term is sissy.  That means as a transwoman I am primarily attracted to men and am submissive to them, though I also enjoy other transwomen.  I am however bigender because I do not want to give up the societal advantages of being male to earn a living.  It took me a long time to figure these things out and realize I was not bisexual.  As a transwoman, I am ideally looking for long-term but occasional relationship with a mostly heterosexual man, ideally as his mistress.  I want to make a man really happy because I'll do things for him that most wives will not.  I will appear to him and behave for him as close to his ideal female partner as I can.*************************The one essential book every transwoman should read is Whipping Girl: A Transexual Woman on Sexism and the Scapegoating of Femininity by Julia Serano, now in its third edition (Seal Press, 2024).  This is a detailed analysis of what it means to be a transwoman and the obstacles we face.  It is important to note on this site that the title does not refer to masochism but to the frequent scapegoating of transwomen in the media as a threat to society.  Serano's argument is that transwomen are demonized because of the rampant misogyny of Western society, where any feminine traits are denigrated, and any masculinity, including the toxic masculinity of cultural conservatives, is privileged. Even some feminists are anti-feminine, not realizing that is probably because they have transmen tendencies.  Part of this "transmisogyny" is also the mistaken notion that male and female are opposites ("oppositional sexism") with nothing in between, and part of it is due to the mistaken belief that your birth gender cannot be changed.  But as the book points out, many men have some feminine traits and many women have some masculine traits.  The book also notes that we constantly unconsciously judge people as male or female based on just a few characteristics without every seeing their genitals or their chromosones, so a person's sex in society is not based on their genetics or organs.The third edition has many good rejoinders to current antitrans-hysteria, notably in the new last chapter.  3% of men and 3% of women appear to have some trans tendencies.  Gender-affirming medical care such as hormones and surgeries for trans people has a low rate of regret, around 1%, whereas similar interventions for nontrans people such as breast augmentation and reduction or hormone supplementation have a regret rate of 14%.  Puberty-blocking medications have been used for years for nontrans children with hormone defects, with no ill effects or inabilty to reverse them.  Trans children who have been denied gender-affirming care have a 14 times higher suicide rate than other children.  Trans children appear in families at the same rate independent of the degree of trans support in their families, so there is no "social contagion" with trans tendencies.  There are more self-identified trans people today than in the past, but that is because society has become more welcoming.  Trans people show no evidence of being sexual predators, any more than women who dress well are sexual predators: Marginalized groups (think blacks) are often hyper-sexualized in the media.  As for "bathroom bills", I find it amusing that the current policy for U.S. government buildings which says that people must use the bathroom of their birth sex, in the avowed goal of protecting women from perverts, forces transmen to go to female bathrooms no matter how much facial hair they have -- something that will make women pretty uncomfortable.  But forcing us transwomen to go to male bathrooms in full drag will not be bad -- men are terrifically scared to look at other men in a bathroom, much less men wearing dresses, for the danger of being throught gay. A weakness of Serano's book is that she sticks to her own perspective as a lesbian transwoman, and doesn't have much to say about transmen.  She also doesn't sound sympathetic to us sissies; she says tranwomen are "fierce" and not passive.  But of course being passive is not necessarily feminine, and could be just reflect to the long oppression of women (as with other minorities) by society.  We need more books on other kinds of trans people.  But for now, Serano's book is important reading.

June 2024 All the years that have passed since my last entry and I'm in an insane mirror world where I'm trapped with him again. Choosing the kids again. My soul is gone, there's no love and laughter to greet with, no holding hands and thrilling looks, no anticipation... of good or bad. I am still No longer in steel, proof how I'm undesirable. He is a hollow shell, a ghost of who he was - all he was. The man who hobbles through my apartment is bitter, broken, deeply unhappy.... the attitude has become apathy, the confidence has become bitterness. The grief muscles cover his face until he's unrecognizable and the missing limbs make him think something inside is missing too. What once was powerful now is pitiful and whatever we once had; faded memories. I try to force him to leave, but he laughs as he curls up on a chair outside with his laptop... homeless yet not in the least. the kids scream at me about why can't I just be a good wife, a good cook, a better housecleaner? Why can't I just shut my mouth and let him die in peace? (Though they know i may go first) They can't understand the sorrow in my empty eyes and as he revives again in simple motions. They also don't understand... the hate, the rage, the abuse, the ugly words and texts. Neverending abuse I lived through for more than decades to TRY to give them a dad. They can't see what I go through - both good and bad - every time he rounds a corner. The way I flinch when his head whips around or the way I refuse to put my back to a wall... anywhere. They don't know I remember his magic hands on my body or the best friend by my side for decades. They don't see when we smile at a shared memory that it hurts both of us.  They blame me, as well he's taught them. Hell, I did right, but I blame me too. I've tried, so. Fucking. Hard. For years to forgive and forget. But when his hands grab my neck I react, when he gently touches me, and I know what pain is next, i can't stop freezing. When he kisses me and I sob.... he walks away with a look of disgust, hate, retribution. Away enough to hear me cry and beg forgiveness, enough to hear me beg to be his again, no love even, just property. Beg for the gag, the collar, the pain, the burns and broken. The plead for the hood so I don't see him and he can't see me. To even be taken, this life from the kids in exchange for death or use. Anything but this horrible hell I suffer every single day.  But what is it a sadist wants? REAL PAIN. What is more painful that making a slave a single mother? Anything more soul destroying to hear her beg to choose you over them, to see you've won. They don't want her, they want you. To hand her the loaded gun and laugh that she won't pull the trigger because she won't leave the kids with that final thought.  My mom destroyed my childhood, but in disliking herself - my mom ruined my life too, by taking hers.  I can't  

Tonight was a very bad night.  My sub collapsed  trying to get up out of bed.  He also had a fever of 101.8, was sweating up a storm and had a very high pulse rate.  Since he hates going to the hospital I gave him 2 choices.  I told him I could call 911 or take him to the ER.  We where lucky and the ER was almost empty when we got there.  They got him right in.  They gave him 3, yes THREE, huge bags filled with iv fluid.  I was surprised to find out that all his symptoms where related to a UTI.  I never thought that muscle weakness, fever, and a host of other symptoms can be related to something as simple as a UTI if you are over 50 y.o.  They gave hime fluids and i.v. antibiotics and sent him home.   He has been very good about drinking water, but since he had the infection he wasn't drinking enough water.  I am SO very glad we caught it before he fell in the yard or in his shop when he was alone.   Onto other matters.  I was talking to someone I thought was a good choice for a slave,  CS has proven me wrong again,  I sure hate the flakes here.  Why is it so hard to find an intellegent, honest slave?  I get flooded with emails, but very very very few seem to be the real thing.  I have two interviews in the new few weeks, but those I found someplace else.  Real life experence is the best way to play. I can't wait till another Kinkfest 2022.  It is a sold out event again this year. I am going to make a huge efffort to go to the play parties after all the classes.  I am so happy all of us kinky people can get back togeather again.  

Using this instead of updating profile. Been away for a few years, just popped back to peruse, see if much has changed however this being a free site, will attract some very unsavoury characters who will be rude, obnoxious, abusive, intrusive, demanding and self entitled.  Go give your head a wobble if you approach  me in that manner. Being a northern lass, I am blunt and will say as I see it. I'm also quite astute, very independent, self sufficient and very happy to remain that way. I chose to have people in my life that do not bring drama, lie, gaslight and are narcissistic. Yes, I do have submissive tendencies however do not expect me to give it from the 1st contact, ask personal and intimate details and assume I'm a doormat. Respect is earned, especially from internet strangers. I can walk away from negative behaviour very easily, with the door shut firmly in your face. I have experience and knowledge of D/s. I live in one of the most beautiful parts of the country, West lakes. I have the sea, fields, mountains and hills for my view.  Sheep and cows for neighbours. The start of the lakes are a half hour drive away. I enjoy days out on my motorbike either alone or in a group when its not raining!  Anyway, those who are genuine, good luck and be happy.  Tara for now J

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

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

This bears reposting just about everywhere. I don't know why I bother though; guys will agree with their mouths but so many don't agree with their hearts: What do you mean when you offer to serve? What do you mean when you offer to BE of service? What do mean when you offer yourself in servitude? Do the answers to these questions bring up visions of you being bound helplessly while being exquisitely tortured, teased to the verge of orgasm? Do you envision some Amazon Goddess sporting a huge strap-on taking you anally? Do you envision yourself prancing around in some French Maid Costume and being asked to provide oral service to a Mistress? Do you envision some woman sqatting over your helplessly bound body "forcing" you to serve her orally? Or do you envision being put over her knee and spanked like a naughty little boy? Yes, nice visions aren't they? However, not one of those visions is the definition of "serve", "service" or "servitude". Oh, I'm sure many subs consider them to be just that, but if you check your dictionaries you won't find any mention of French Maid Costumes, bondage, strap-ons, oral sex, or any other fetish you may enjoy. In fact you won't find any mention of fetishes at all in the definitions Serve is defined as: 1. to work for, be a servant; 2. to act in a specific capacity; 3. to place food before, wait on; 4. to be of assistance to. Service is defined as: 1. the occupation or duties of a servant; 2. the act or means of serving; 3. duties performed as an occupation. Servitude is defined as: Submission to a master; slavery. When you offer to serve a FemDom, what you are offering (or should be offering) is the surrender of your control. You should know her well enough to trust her with your life. When you offer your servitude to her, you are telling her that you trust her judgment, you trust her to keep you safe from harm, you trust her to know what is best for both of you, you trust her decisions and desire to follow her orders and obey her in all things. Your offer of service is your ability to let go of your ego and your free will (control) and allow her to control you. Serving is, first and foremost, the act of making her life easier. It is compliance with all her desires, wishes, orders. Yes, BD/SM and fetish play, more than likely, will be included as part of the relationship. But overall, the D/s ect of the relationship will be where you have turned your control over to her and you do as she says. It is about pampering her and catering to her. Everyday life will be a part of this, for most people do have to work, bills do have to be paid, people need to see doctors occasionally, and dentists. Then there are family get togethers, family emergencies, social gatherings with vanilla friends and also with D/s friends. For the most part, life will seem pretty vanilla, but there will be one difference. IF you have truly submitted, then your actions will be measured by how your Mistress would feel about it. Your decisions will be based upon what you are allowed, or not allowed to decide without her permission. You will treat others with respect, but especially other women. You will consider that your actions would reflect back upon your Mistress, and therefore act in a manner that would make her proud of you. There may be other constant reminders, she may insist you wear panties under your clothes at work. But you will always remember that you have submitted to her and will honor that commitment. How can you serve your Mistress - what are the ways? Here are some suggestions: -Make sure her home is clean and neat. -Make sure her clothes are clean and neat. -Prepare her favorite foods for her. -Prepare her bath. -Rub her feet after she comes in from working all day. -Offer her a massage if her day was very stressful. -Offer to do her manicure and pedicure. -Have her favorite music playing or find her favorite show or movie on TV. -Surprise her with flowers. -Serve her coffee as soon as she gets up in the morning. -Ask what clothing she wants laid out for her. These are just a few of the ways you can serve her once you have been trained in what she wants and likes. Don't be afraid to use your imagination to surprise her (provided of course that she has no problem with you doing this occasionally). A happy, contented, pleased, relaxed woman is a woman who will then have no problem torturing you, using you, or even indulging you with a fetish or two that are your favorites…………just to show you how much she really appreciates your service and submission to her. So, what are you offering?

I detest the world of text and email is little better.  How do we get to know one another?  Talking by phone is good, sharing space is better.  Nothing replaces breathing like air.   I'm here seeking now and am looking to install a slave in reasonably short order.  I've no intention of playing with ya'll for months on end.  We talk, we meet, we do. While different aspects are new, unclear, or undefined, this is not an impossible ask. This relating we do touches on our core and when we text and email, we are agreeing to open ourselves to misinterpretation.  We have lives going on, usually complex and not meeting our inner needs, we are over tired, sick or caring for others.  We dont have the luxury of seeing one another at work or at the pub to work things through.  We need to listen and give the benefit of the doubt until or unless discussions implode. Have you ever heard that the more ingredients in a food, the worse it is for your body?  Bingo!  The more division we put between us and our get to know, the harder that climb and claiming is going to be because their is more opportunity for misunderstanding.  

In my new found enthusiasm for the Journal function, I have taken the liberty of borrowing the following from Master Scoollink's site which struck me as very interesting. After training, He writes,  "slave will have the ability to prepare a "USERS MANUAL."  A document that identifies what slave is good for. The goal of this document is to describe how to best interact with slave to achieve desired response. It is a manual that could be handed to a stranger to provide the tools to better provide any Dominant a satisfying experience with slave. The "Manual" can also serve as a foundation for a future Dominant. I love the thought of preparing a document like that - not least because it would provide my current Master with an excellent diagnostic tool for the mind-set of His slave.  It might be that the slave thought its utility was best described in one way whereas the Master's view was otherwise - in whcih case some retraining would be indicated to get slave reoriented in th eright direction. 

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

Here is my boundary regarding pictures.   I don't share photos on kink sites, period. My job puts me smack in the middle of the public, and they don't need to know the amount of information made possible on these sites. My alternative is to meet sooner rather than later, which is also why I say come to a munch I attend and let's see if there is something there. I also ask the person who lives close enough to the Bay Area to participate in a munch and meet for coffee. I bet you are better in person, too. This boundary creates unhappy men who want their way; they want a picture, yet some don't have facial pictures either. I suppose a dick picture is representative of the little brain in action. Some don't like to be told no or are looking for something specific in a woman. This is not my problem; it's theirs!!! I let them hold their problem tight to their needy bosom. I find it entertaining when they lash out and start saying I'm fake this or that. Such fragile egos make them look like an asshats and make me realize I was right not to send or post pictures. I am real. It hurts when I stub a toe or get a papercut. I have expectations, and if you do not like them, we will not work out. If you can see the possibilities by showing up away from the keyboard and coming out in public with other like-minded people, I would enjoy meeting you and starting a friendship. Meeting in person is so much better. 

Looking for permanent companionship.  I am poly and unpartnered currently.  What I am looking for is obedience and full time servitude. I am not a nice person.  If you please me, you will be rewarded.  If you displease me, you will be punished.  None of that bratty punishment.  You will be punished in a way that you genuinely dislike.  If chaining you up and leaving you alone is something that distresses you, that can be your punishment.  If you dislike pain, or public humiliation, or anything really, I will make it happen so you genuinely suffer.  If you want to be playful and want some of these things, just ask at an appropriate time and I will make it happen as long as you have not displeased me. Also looking for genuine hypnosis subjaspects I am not a monster, I am not a nice guy either.

In the bustling aisles of the crowded store, a familiar presence halted her steps. There, amidst the sea of faces, she glimpsed him once more. He pulled a bottle of whiskey from the shelf, his eyes caught hers, and a smile appeared on his face. His eyes deepens like a predator on the prowl. Their life unfolded in fleeting scenes, in the intimate cocoon of their shared space, they found solace on the plush leather couch, bathed in the soft glow of dimmed lights. The air carried the delicate fragrance of roses and vanilla, an intoxicating blend that clung to her skin. As they nestled together, the subtle scent added a layer of warmth to the cozy atmosphere. Her skin, soft as the gentle caress of a summer breeze, invited him closer. The curves of her form molded against the cushions, creating a haven of comfort. Long, brown, and curly, her hair cascaded with a wild and untamed beauty, echoing the free-spirited nature that danced within her. His hand roamed around her body, exploring its entirety. His other hand held his favorite leash its leather warm and worn from his hand working the leather over the years of wear. He started letting the leash work through his hand pulling her head down slowly, further in to his lap.She turned her head to catch his eyes as she adjusted her body.“May I please?” Her sweet voice called to him like a sirens call, as his lip lifted in a half smile.“May you sir?” He said as he pulled on the leash making her head pull forward her nose pushing in to his cock.She looked up at him, “May I please suck your cock sir?” Her voice called up to hîm her hands running up his thighs.“Mmmm of course.” His voice growled.

 littlegirl4343