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

Since it takes weeks to either edit your profile or setup a new one, here's a bit of an update of what we're actively looking for since so many people who approach seem to have the wrong idea. We have been wandering down this line for a while now and its time to pull the pin. I am seeking several live-in slaves for the purpose of increasing our quality of life.  Turning my teeny 2 person household into a lovely little harem by attaining a couple worker bees. I seek those who find their meaning in serving another, and find their pleasure through submission.  This is not  about sex, or even BDSM.  It's about the beauty found in service.  Using your particular gifts to enrich the life of your master. I have a preference for women (natural or trans) and sissies, but any betas or otherwise less-than-males are welcome to apply. Of course if there are any couples who would like to apply, I am happy to speak with you as well. You will be expected to work.  There is, much to the dismay of many, no real world in which you can be caged 24/7 and fed only dog food or some silly non-sense.  That's fantasy beyond fantasy, and in the real world it is a burden upon your owner.  To have them pay for your existence, feed you, clean you, etc etc.  So yes, you will be expected to work outside the home.  There's of course other more fun responsibilities as well.  You will be expected to clean, cook, run errands, entertain, potentially serve sexually, and whatever else comes into play. You will have a schedule, expectations will be set, and you will meet them. You will exist to improve my life. And dont worry, there are benefits for you as well, future slave. Just think, youll never have to worry about anything again. Not your future, not what to do, not what to eat or how to act. Your sole focus will be on doing everything you can to make your Superiors life a better one. A simple life, a purposeful life. Thats what you need, and what I can offer to you. Must be able to live and work in Southern CA, unless you've something extraordinary to offer elsewhere. If you cannot commit to a 247 TPE, please do not message me. If you are already in SoCal or Vegas, I have special interest in you.   EDIT: It now looks like updating the journal deleted our profile information?  What a joy this site is :/

Ladies - feel free to contact Me anytime to discuss your experiences here with the unfavorables.  I have an open door policy when it comes to protecting our interests and there are some parasites here who make it their lifes work to penetrate our defenses  in an effort to conquer through deception.  It is a rotten business and sours the landscape for honest and true relationships with men of distinction here. I was reading some journal entries of other dominant women and was alarmed at the amount of similarities to their journeys here.  Are we all speaking to the same men/man?  Its a fact that Mr. Mindf*ck is spreading his disinformation seed all over.  So I have started reaching out to other women.  Do you hear that you VOCATIONAL  POS PARASITE?  One way or another, you will find your breeding grounds drying up. You messed with a very nice but very dogged lady and while I forgive, I never forget an injustice.  So while you are creating or discharging both submissive and dominant entities, I will continue to contact other women and asking for them to reach out to Me if they wish to exchange notes.  Mind you, we too have form letters, so dont get your hopes up that energy is being spent on you - energy is being spent protecting women from predators such as yourself and energy is being spent in sisterhood ensuring men of worth have clear passage. Time to buckle up boys, Mama's Got a Brand New Bag!  Good luck! lol

  Your Negotiation Means Nothing If the Results Were Forged [CW: STI non-disclosure, predatory behavior, legal consequences, community safety] Let me paint you a picture. Someone gets a positive result. Instead of disclosing instead of doing the one thing that consent absolutely requires they go shopping. They find a friend. They swap names on paperwork. They screenshot someone else's results. They walk into your negotiation with fabricated proof and a smile, and everything you agreed to was built on a lie. Your yes was never real. You consented to a fiction. And now you're living with the consequences. This isn't just a community problem. It is a crime. And I want the people doing this to understand exactly what they're walking into because the law in these states doesn't mess around. FLORIDA Under Florida Statute §384.24, you don't even have to transmit anything. Knowingly having an infection, being informed you can transmit it, and sleeping with someone without disclosure is already the crime. Non-disclosure of most STIs is a First Degree Misdemeanor. Non-disclosure of HIV is a Third Degree Felony up to 5 years. A repeat offense escalates to a First Degree Felony. The statute covers gonorrhea, chlamydia, syphilis, herpes, and HIV. Fabricating test results to obtain that consent? That's fraud layered on top of the underlying charge. GEORGIA Under Georgia Code 16-5-60, there are criminal penalties for reckless conduct involving HIV and hepatitis transmission. Prosecutors in Georgia are aggressive about pursuing charges against those who fail to disclose their status to sexual partners. And for anything not specifically named in the statute syphilis, herpes, anything else a person can still face assault charges. TENNESSEE Criminal exposure to HIV in Tennessee is a Class C Felony that is three to fifteen years in prison and up to $10,000 in fines. Tennessee covers HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C specifically under criminal exposure law. The burden falls on the defendant to prove disclosure happened, and proving disclosure is notoriously difficult because there is rarely documentation so it often comes down to whose word gets believed in front of a jury. ALABAMA Alabama's communicable disease exposure statute casts a wide net "contact" is broadly undefined, meaning a whole range of behaviors can be criminalized, and neither intent to transmit nor actual transmission is required for prosecution. Alabama has also pursued HIV exposure cases under general criminal law, including attempted murder charges where intent can be established. MISSISSIPPI Mississippi's felony exposure statute covers HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C. Exposure without disclosure can result in felony charges. This is not a state where you want to test those limits. SOUTH CAROLINA South Carolina carries explicit criminal exposure statutes covering HIV, Hepatitis B, and Hepatitis C both misdemeanor and felony tiers depending on the circumstances and the infection involved. LOUISIANA Louisiana has been actively expanding its reach. Intentional exposure to incurable STIs without disclosure has been the subject of legislation targeting up to 10 years in prison and $5,000 in fines. Syphilis and herpes both incurable fall squarely in that conversation. And then there's civil court which doesn't need a criminal conviction to destroy you. If a partner knowingly infaspects you, you can file civil battery or negligence claims. Intentional, unconsented, harmful contact raises the damages recovered and can run alongside criminal charges simultaneously. A fabricated test result isn't a defense it's evidence of premeditation. A civil attorney will use it to light you on fire. Now let's talk about the test swapping specifically. Presenting falsified medical documentation to obtain sexual consent is fraud. Full stop. It potentially constitutes identity fraud, forgery, and fraud to obtain consent all separate charges that can stack on top of whatever STI exposure statute applies. You handed someone else's results to your partner. That's a paper trail. That's a witness. That's a case. What this means for all of us in this community We build our entire framework on the quality of the information exchanged during negotiation. One lie poisons the whole structure. Informed consent isn't informed if the information is fake. Ask for documentation. Ask about the lab. Ask about the date. Cross reference the details. If someone treats those questions like an insult if they get hostile, evasive, or suddenly defensive about you wanting to verify what they've handed you that reaction is data. Use it. Protect yourself. Know your rights. And if something has already happened to you talk to someone who can help you understand your options. You have them. Legal References Florida Fla. Stat. 384.24 Unlawful Sexual Intercourse / STI Non-Disclosure Florida Fla. Stat. 384.34 Penalties for STI-related violations Georgia Ga. Code Ann. 16-5-60 Reckless Conduct / HIV & Hepatitis Exposure Tennessee Tenn. Code Ann. 39-13-109 Criminal Exposure to HIV, HBV, HCV (Class C Felony) Alabama Ala. Code 22-11A-21 Communicable Disease Exposure Statute Mississippi Miss. Code Ann. 97-27-14 — Felony Exposure (HIV, HBV, HCV) South Carolina S.C. Code Ann. 44-29-145 — Criminal Sexual Conduct with STI Non-Disclosure Louisiana La. R.S. 14:43.5 — Intentional Exposure to AIDS Virus; pending expansion legislation Civil Liability Negligence & Battery claims available in all 50 states; no criminal conviction required https://www.nolo.com/legal-encyclopedia/sexually-transmitted-diseases-stds-lawsuits.html https://www.hivlawandpolicy.org/state-profiles/south-carolina https://www.kevinkuliklaw.com/is-std-transmission-a-criminal-offense-in-florida/ https://www.legalmatch.com/law-library/article/liability-for-transmitting-a-sexually-transmitted-disease.html https://www.criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/transmitting-std-florida.htm https://www.criminaldefenselawyer.com/resources/transmitting-std-north-carolina.htm  

My ultimate goal is to find a man to make me his housewife, so I decided to write some things about what that means to me. A housewife is just a fancy way to say you are a slave in a 24/7 TPE. A housewife is property, a housewife has no rights, only those a master gives them. A housewife gives their mind and body to a master, a housewife is not able to make the decisions that are in their best interest, so a master takes that role. They choose the clothes that are best for their housewife to wear that day, a master knows the most important things that need to be done and make a list for the hou to complete for the day. The typical day of the housewife consists of cooking for a master, cleaning the masters house, and completing the duties a master tells them to do. A master cares for their housewife, and if a housewife does something wrong or does not do something correctly, the master punishes the housewife, to teach them and help them grow. A housewife gives their mind and body to the master, a master deserves this for caring for the housewife, this means their body is the master's to use amd abuse whenever and however they choose. I know there is more to this but these were just some of my thoughts.

I really do need to find a man to take me in for retraining. Since my last LTR ended I have been unable to find anybody of the calibre needed to properly dominate me. And properly dominated I need to be. If you are the sort of man who would grab me by my blonde hair and unceremoniously put me over your knees, push my skirt up off my bum, pull my panties down as I squealed and kicked around and give me a thrashing for nothing more than pouting my disapproval at you when you told me to do something. If you are the sort of man who is comfortable enough in your ownership of me to publically humiliate me and/or lend me out to one of your mates occasionally. If you are the sort of man who would keep a variety of implements in the wardrobe solely to punish me with and used them on me regularly whether I misbehaved or not just to keep me in my place and because you enjoyed doing it. If you are the sort of man who would make sure that I always had fresh welts and whip marks on me to demonstrate your complete ownership and domination of me. If you are the sort of man who would lock me in the garage, shed or spare room for hours on end to give me plenty of time to reflect on my shortcomings before coming in to administer a good thrashing to me. If you are the sort of man who would take great pleasure in seeing me hog tied and gagged, struggling on the floor. If you are the sort of man who would give me a good slap across the side of my face hard enough to send me sprawling if I back chatted you. If you are the sort of man who would expect a girl to know her place, do all your housework, do it to your expectations and do it with a smile on her face or else. If you are the sort of man who, while watching the footy on TV and I was doing a big pile of ironing in the laundry, would shout out to me for a beer and expect me to immediately fetch it from the fridge, open it and put it into a beer cooler before hurrying to hand it to you with a smile on my face. If you are the sort of man who would not allow me to leave the house or do anything without your permission and who dictates to me what I should be wearing. If you are the sort of man who would take great pleasure from watching me squirm and squeal on the floor as your belt leaves bright red welts on my bum, thighs and back. If you are the sort of man whom I would be a little bit frightened of. If you are the sort of man who expaspects me to be dressed like a girl should be dressed to please a man, in miniskirts, short dresses, sexy panties, heels and stockings. If you are the sort of man who would occasionally reward me by treating me like a lady even though we both know that I’m nothing but your slut. If you are the sort of man who is intelligent, articulate, financially stable and is prepared to put in the work on me to give me the life that I deserve. If you are even some of those things you are a real man and a rare man. Where are you? I NEED YOU!

Fantacy vs reality Oct 17 2019 Dommes are people.   Like, actual, real human beings who have jobs, family, friends, pets, hobbies, fears, insecurities, frustrations, get colds, get sunburns, do household chores, sleep badly, have bad dreams, have bad days at work, have good dreams, have side hustles, spill soup, yawn, ... everything that everyone else does.   Most of the emails I get aren't writing me. They are writing The Beautiful and Goddesslike Domme in the Tall Boots and The Sexy Corset.   It's a lot like writing Robert Downey Jr. and thanking him for saving the world that time when he flew into the black hole and you're sorry it scared him. Or maybe more like talking to a cardboard cutout of Iron Man at the theater, and expecting it to help you soup up your car so that it flies.   There is a real person behind all of that. But if you aren't interested in them, if you aren't interacting with them, asking about their actual life, treating them like a person? You are focused on the image you have, and treating it like it's the reality. Not a good look for anyone.   Which is not saying that the Domme in The Tall Boots isn't really me. It's just that it's this teeny slice of the whole me, and when you treat me like it's the only part that matters, you diminish me to a flat, limited function of my outside appearance. And it tells me that you aren't really very grounded or realistic.   The thing that I feel makes The Domme in The Tall Boots (I should copyright that) so fabulous is the mind and personality inside. The intelligence that makes me recognize patterns and respond quickly. The ethics that mean I won't lie or manipulate or abuse people when they put their trust in me. The talent that lets me learn quickly and develop new skills for better play. The understanding of human behavior and insightful nature that helps me know what others are thinking / feeling even when they don't say it out loud, and find the best response. The self control that keeps me level when play gets heated so that I don't destroy my playtoys.   And so much more... all the things that took a lifetime to build, and which have nothing to do with my face. All of these things would still be a part of me if my skin slid off and my hair fell out and I was a hideous bog monster.   These are the things that I think make me a quality person, and a good Domme. When someone writes an email saying "the most beautiful domme in the whole world You are a Goddess A domme like you is worth moving for" I know they aren't really responding to anything I've written. They are looking at a picture, and imagining who I am, filling in all the blanks with their ideal Domme's traits.   Much like that Boston song - "You must understand this I've watched you for so long That I feel I've known you I know it can't be wrong"   They see, they assume, they create a whole person in their heads that wears my face and my kinky clothes, and then they imagine that person wanting to do all the things to them that they want done. They write a letter to that person professing their undying devotion and expressing how much they are looking forward to all those things.   Meanwhile, I'm sitting over here in my pajamas with a cat on my lap trying to dry my hair after a shower, considering what to have for my bedtime snack, remembering that I didn't water the hibiscus twigs, and get blindsided with a huge wave of words written to ... I dunno who. But she has my face, so I'm expected to respond accordingly. And they get upset when I don't. I've ruined their fantasy. And disrupted their wank fodder.   And the sender never knows that they wrote a cardboard cutout while missing the actual amazingness of the real person.   I suppose it's the reverse of the situation Dustin Hoffman discussed in an interview when he realized he hadn't bothered to interact with women who didn't look a certain way, and now that he saw himself dressed as a woman and didn't look like that, he wouldn't have talked to himself as a woman, and understood how many amazing women he missed out on meeting because of it. [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yuaiR89iofE[/youtube]   And honestly, I am, like most women, in that same boat. If I fail to wear The Tall Boots and The Sexy Corset with the proper primping and makeup, 99% of men won't notice me at all, much less fall at my feel begging to be spanked and pegged. Their fantasy is very specific - THIS look, doing THAT act. Anything else is invisible to them. So when I am seeking a sub, such as on here or at a play party, I "Perform Femininity." And I do it well. Hence the emails. But other than that...   I become invisible if I wrap up my hair over a naked face to do yardwork. Not to everyone, but to a majority of the male population. Which is why so many me

I wish I understood the urge to write to a stranger and make obscure pronouncements. I am moving. I tried it. Even compliments like You have sexy feet or I love your hair. I wonder if they get an effective response rate from others. They certainly don't get anything from me but the delete button. I don't think I can be any more clear. Read the fucking profile. Emails with less than 3 sentences are deleted as soon as they are opened. Yes, even compliments. Even cryptic declarations. Especially cryptic declarations. Occasionally I am tempted to reply to a nice message with a thank you or ask a cryptic declarater (declarator? one who declares cryptically) WTF. But then I remember that EVERY SINGLE TIME I have made an exception, I have regretted it or felt it was a terrific waste of my time and effort or both.   I guess I will never know where random guy is moving or what other random guy tried. Maybe I'm better off not knowing. ~E

The dimly lit bar was filled with the usual Saturday night crowd, the air thick with the scent of spilled drinks and lingering perfumes. In the corner, a striking figure caught the eye of many, but few dared to approach. Rosalind, a voluptuous woman in her early forties with fiery red hair and piercing green eyes, was known for her domineering presence. She was a BBW with curves that could make any man weak at the knees, but her commanding aura was what truly set her apart. Across the room, a man named Thomas noticed her. He was tall, with short grey hair and a solid build, his eyes a soft brown that held a hint of timidity. He had been watching her for some time, his curiosity piqued by her confident demeanor. As if feeling his gaze, Rosalind turned to look at him, her lips curling into a slow, seductive smile. She raised her glass in a silent toast, beckoning him over with a flick of her wrist. Thomas hesitated for a moment before making his way to her table. "Mind if I join you?" he asked, his voice steadier than he felt. Rosalind leaned back in her chair, her eyes roaming over him appraisingly. "I might," she replied, her voice a low purr. "What makes you think I'd want your company?" Thomas swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his chest. "Because I think you enjoy a challenge," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Rosalind chuckled, a sound like velvet. "You're right about that," she said, patting the seat next to her. "Sit." Over the next hour, they engaged in a battle of wits, their banter laced with innuendo and subtle flirtation. Rosalind was intrigued by Thomas's quiet strength, and Thomas was captivated by her boldness. As the night wore on, they found themselves drawn to each other, the sexual tension palpable. "I'm Rosalind," she said finally, extending her hand. Thomas took it, his fingers brushing against hers. "Thomas," he said, his voice hoarse. Rosalind's fingers lingered on his, her thumb tracing small circles on the back of his hand. "Tell me, Thomas," she said, her voice a whisper. "What are your fantasies?" Thomas hesitated, his breath hitching in his throat. "I... I enjoy being dominated," he admitted, his eyes meeting hers. "Being told what to do." Rosalind's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "I see," she said. "And what about chastity? Ever thought about being locked up?" Thomas nodded, his cheeks flushing with desire. "Yes," he admitted. "I have." Rosalind's smile turned wicked. "Good," she said. "Because I have just the thing to make your fantasies a reality." Two weeks later, Thomas found himself in Rosalind's apartment, standing naked before her. She had taken him shopping for a chastity cage, a chrome device that now adorned his cock. He had been locked in it for days, the sensation of being caged driving him to the brink of madness. Rosalind looked him up and down, her eyes lingering on the device. "You look delicious," she said, her voice a low growl. "But I think it's time to take things up a notch." She turned to a table beside her, picking up a stubby black vibrator with spiral veins  that promised pleasure beyond imagination. She switched it on, the hum filling the room. Thomas's eyes widened, his cock straining against the cage. "Please," he begged, his voice a whimper. "Please let me cum." Rosalind chuckled, shaking her head. "Not yet," she said. "First, you need to earn it." She gestured to the bed, and Thomas eagerly climbed onto it, lying on his back. Rosalind knelt between his legs, her eyes locked onto his. She leaned forward, her breath hot on his cock, and slowly began to lick the length of it through the cage. Thomas moaned, his hips bucking against the restraint. "Shh," Rosalind whispered, her tongue tracing the tip of the cage. "Be quiet, or I'll have to gag you." Thomas nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Rosalind smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. She reached into a drawer beside the bed, pulling out a black ball gag. She fastened it around his head, silencing his moans. Thomas looked up at her, his eyes pleading. Rosalind chuckled, her fingers tracing the lines of his body. "Such a pretty sight," she murmured, her voice a low purr. "All mine to control." She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "You're mine now, Thomas," she whispered. "Every part of you." Thomas nodded, his body shaking with desire. Rosalind smiled, her eyes gleaming with wicked intent. She stood up, her hand reaching for the vibrator. She turned it on, the hum filling the room once more. "Now," she said, her voice a low growl. "Let's see how well you can take this." She pressed the tip of the vibrator against his cock, the hum vibrating through the cage. Thomas moaned, his body shaking with the sensation. Rosalind pushed it harder, her eyes locked onto his. She could see the pleasure building in him, his body tensing with the need to cum. "Please," he begged, his voice muffled by the gag. "Please let me cum." Rosalind shook her head, her fingers tracing the lines of his body. "Not yet," she said. "You haven't earned it." She turned the vibrator up, the hum growing louder. Thomas's body shook, his cock straining against the cage. Rosalind could see the sweat beading on his forehead, the desperation in his eyes. She smiled, her fingers tightening around the vibrator. "Come on, Thomas," she murmured, her voice a low purr. "Take it. Take all of it." Thomas moaned, his body shaking with the effort. Rosalind could see the pleasure building in him, his body tensing with the need to cum. She smiled, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "Good boy," she said, her voice a low growl. "You're doing so well." She leaned down, her lips brushing against his ear. "Now," she whispered, her voice a low purr. "Let's see how well you can take this."

I so dream of this too often.One day daddy comes home mad at the world and tells me to get his lube and plugs. I do as daddy asks and get them fast as a sissy in 6” locking heels can. I get back to daddy and he tells me to suck him hard, as I drop to my knees daddy Luber’s up my sissy hole and inserts the plugs starting with the smallest first. By the the time daddy gets the biggest plug into my sissy hole he says bend over the couch and spread your ass. Yes daddy I do as he asks and he hold my hands spreading my ass as he enters my lubed up sissy hole and madly fuck it deep 9” thick daddy tool. He fucks me for about an hour when he had filled me with his seed 4 times and decides to put the largest plug into my sissy hole and tells me to keep it there all night and only he removes it. Yes daddy as I said to daddy filled with his seed feeling full and used.It is the morning and daddy says it is time to remove your plug and get filled again, yes daddy I assume the position and spread my ass wide for daddy. He again grabs my hands and decides to cuff me to my thighs and fuck my sissy hole for hours filling me so many time I feel it leaking down my chastity cage. He finally done and the large plug again and I’m told to leave it in and stay there until daddy is ready again. Daddy seams more relaxed every time he fills my hole and plugs it in to ensure I’m properly bred by his seed. I look around and see he has been filming this and it is also live still filming. I’m embarrassed that daddy did not tell me about the cameras but I like it. Daddy is back and again breeds my sissy hole, he does this all weekend long and it is a Hilo day weekend, so daddy has a full three days to breed me and film it all.

Atlantic Sleep Token    Call me when they bury bodies underwaterIt's blue light over murder for meCrumble like a temple built from future daughtersTo wasteland when the oceans recede Marry in the morning, earn your bitter fatherIt's easier to try not to eatSo flood me like Atlantic, bandage up the trenchesAnything to get me to sleep I woke up surrounded, eyes like frozen planetsJust orbiting the vacuum I amThey talk me through the damage, consequenceAnd how it's a pain they know they don't understand Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedsideI'm trying not to crush into sandSo flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothingWash away the blood on my hands Call me when they bury bodies underwaterIt's blue light over murder for meCrumble like a temple built from future daughtersTo wasteland when the oceans recede Don't wake meDon't wake meDon't wake me upDon't you wake (don't wake me) me upDon't wake meOh (don't wake me up)  

6/13/2024   I am Wordy... Flirty... a little bit... Dirty. Even so... sending me a message does not guarantee a reply. Some may think that is rude. There are just only a certain number of hours in a day and I am not on here much. MPH

Never mind the brit who I spent far too much time with only to determine that he preys on women as a CollarSpace occupation...but then to be followed by the next group: He doesnt fix his phone and therefore cannot communicate effectively. He cannot share his availability properly or set aside proper time to converse. He doesn't show up for the meeting - 1st time because he was sick and waits to tell Me at the appointed hour. He doesn't show up for the meeting - 2nd time because 'I worry him' and waits until the appointed hour. LOL He verbally attacks and berates when I show the least bit of consideration. He then contacts Me under another screeen name, different state, 15 years older. He tells Me we are not well matched. LOL YA THINK? Next one... 1st meeting - mandatory work schedule change; notified one or two days prior- accepted. 2nd meeting - computer virus effecting communication until last minute; contacted day prior. I had to find suitable PAID option as replacement - accepted. 3rd meeting - had to care for a family member, contact made day of and two hours prior to scheduled meet time - DENIED. aND Next... Meeting scheduled for 18 day visit in November after a few months of build up....then POOF!  I didn't even get a Dear Jane letter on that one! Oh yeah, almost forgot about the local chap who was more than willing to mow and weedwack one fine weekend a month ago... POOOOOOOOF!   YOU INCONVENIENCE A WOMAN WHO IS A FULL TIME CAREGIVER TO A SAINT?  ARE YOU SERIOUS? Regarding the first two subs...what they dont realize is it matters not that they didnt show up.  What matters is that they wanted Me to believe in their ability and desire and went to great lengths to convince Me of their worth and intention.  After I went to considerable lengths to prepare for our meetings, then to not show and cause not just Me an inconvenience but inturn My household - well that is INTOLERABLE.  Slaves My arse!  Bottom toppers is more like it! As of yesterday, 103124, I finally completed the work I had planned to complete with the first two gents.  It has taken Me TWO MONTHS to do what I could have done in two weekends with these men.  By making committments which they did not keep, they cost Me time and money and lots and lots of harder days with mum and FOR mum. Had I not made the plans with them, I would have a. made plans with others b. hired the help I need ahead of time c. restructured My schedule to accomodate a lack of assistance. Instead, My household has been stressed out trying to play catch up which means mother and I have had a stressed time, which means I DON'T TRUST YOU OR LIKE YOU. Ya'll are inconsiderate and you have been dealt with more than fairly.  You know what to do if you decide to get serious and stop playing around. Do what you say.  Say what you do.  Obey.  Simple. And for the love of Pete - stop making plans with women unless you intend on following through!

From Messaging I think I have found that a Dominant Master who is not just looking to lock you up and take you out from society knows the Psychology of Mind Control and can recognize how to properly indoctrinate you and knows your weakness and strengths and knows how to unseat those strengths and play to your weakness to make you learn to be dependent on the Master for everything just to avoid the sensory deprivation part of the breakdown. In the end you are the blank canvas and willing slave for a life of servitude and no regrets or expectations anymore. slave to be taken

I told her to sleep on the rug next to my bed, i think it was a mistake. She was open vulnerable, tender,  in need of assurance, tenderness not to be push away. Yeah i fuck up i was 26 not an excuse but a reason for my stupidity. she was 33 with two kids, a bubbly  personality with a bit of a mom belly,  hips that she did not recognized and stretch marks that she pretended that was not hers. She was in the wrong body, wrong life, with responsibilities that she resented. I was more than just a good fuck, or s strong hand, i was to dumb to inexperience to know what she needed me to be. I was coming down my high my dick was no longer hard my senses no longer had  a hold of me, she was a mess, sweat, tears and all other liquids was emanating from her. Why did i do the things that i did? and why in the hell did she let me? i was mad at myself for letting that side of me take hold. She was still panting mascara running, with her two hands between her thighs digging in the rub with her hollow eyes peering up at me on the bed. "Stop trying to read me" her breathing was starting to slow down " I'm not" she answered. sweat running down her welted breast mouth slightly agape, her tongue scoop something up from the corner of her mouth as she reach her forehead and pull her greasy, sticky hair back, with both eyes close she moan. Dam she makes it to easy for me. Her other hand reach for the comforter between my legs, i swatted it away, "your sleeping on the floor tonight" her face responded with confusion but her eyes with hurt. I't was suppose to be after care, holding, assurance that she was mine and no ones else. pride, selfishness and ego mix with lust, testosterone is the recipe for beguile stupidity. i can tell that i was scarring her. I toss her a blanket and a pillow of the bed and told her, " go wash your ass.' It was the mixture of coco chanel, sweat, semen, funk me, jell, among's other things that was aggravating  my mood." your mad at me?"  she ask without making eye contact. head down hair covering her face but i knew she was sobbing. Reaching up she grab both of my hands, "you enjoyed this, we both did, you know i wanted this, I need you, don't push me away." Lips quivering along with the rest of her. In her state of panic she look pathetic, weak, "I belong to you and only you" she sniffled. Those emotional tears started moving me. " you've lowered and debased me, I'm no good for anyone else, i'm yours." she poured it on the more she felt me grow. I reach down to the left of her and grab the rope, less then three seconds i had both her wrist loop and tied. shock by my aggression and speed, she wince in pain. In one swift motion i had the rope over the harness on my ceiling. she was on her toes, armed stretched to the ceiling back arch ass out. "Hey man you want us to leave?" said one of the fellows in the living room, "yeah make sure not to forget or leave anything behind." 

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

ABOUT ME:      I am a “Service Oriented” slave. I was born with a slave’s heart and nothing gives me greater pleasure than to Serve. As a slave, I know that BDSM is not about me, but how I may serve you and make your life easier for you. I possess honestly, integrity and ethics and I expect the same from the Dominate as well. I see my future where I will live in a rigid, powerful Female-Led Relationship where the Mistress will make and enforce the Rules of our relationship. What I Have to Offer: *I will accept your will and decisions without hesitation or ion. I WILL OBEY! *I will devote myself to fully pleasing you including doing all of the housework, laundry, shopping, etc. to remove any unwanted tasks from your life (Service Oriented Slave) *I will accept all forms of discipline and punishment when required to insure I remain focused on obeying your Rules, Commands and Instructions. Obviously, you may also punish me whenever you feel like doing so just for your amusement   Our Relationship: * You will determine my schedule and how I spend my time  in an effort to add quality to your life *You will decide what I wear and when I wear it to humiliate and control me * You will benefit from my unique wisdom and areas of expertise as developed over the years. However, the final decision in any matter is yours alone *Our relationship will be dedicated to a lifestyle, not a form of role-playing (Female Supremacy to male subservience) *Our relationship will be based on Trust and Compatibility. Such an arrangement like this is not something you just jump into without developing trust with each other *In its purest form, our relationship will be all about You.

  A submissive with Etiquette To be owned by Someone who wants to understand me and know who i really am, Someone who can Dominate me like no One and mould me to be the best submissive i can be. Someone who will not give up if the road ahead looks to be undulating but will guide me to firmness. Someone with a “can make it work” attitude as opposed to dismissive. i am and will be a very committed and determined submissive who gives my utter respect, devotion and loyalty.    Patiently waiting for my Leader to reach out and take hold of the reins.    (i am unlikely to make first contact but will always reply to all in a fitting and courteous manner that should be fitting of an online submissive)  

* ISO of a decent, naturally submissive gentleman to grow old with in a committed LTR relationship * NOT interested in horndogs, freak shows, married and cheating, online anything, pay to plays, or anything else subpar  * just want a great guy who is submissive by nature, who knows his place in a FLR with whom to share My life * NO drama, excuses, or BS * am seeking a quality submissive man ready to settle down and enjoy life with a truly Dominant Woman in a D/s relationship * not willing to settle for less

After years of being in D/s relationships, I've come to realize that I am just not capable of equality in 'vanilla relationship'. I gave it a shot but discovered how unfulfilled, frustrated and dispirted I became when engaged in a relationship with a partner as 'equals'. Dispite attempting to gravitate away from any D/s aspect within a relationship, my natural instincts and habitual tendencies always found a way to emerge subconsciously without my realization. My inner desire would have me doing things that used to be commonplace as a domestic slave but were highly discouraged during my attempts with 'vanilla relationships'. My therapist believed I subconsciously believe I am not worthy of love, but I disagree entirely. My love for submission, service and dedicating my every waking moment in pursuit of another individual's happiness is love on a different scale. She says that's just obsession and addiction, I told her she didn't know what happiness and life is about. I explained how in my relationships in D/s, happiness is a product of my devotion, loyalty and making my owner's life simpler, less stressful and more fulfilling in all aspaspects, which directly impacts my happiness. Because of this mantra, I compared serveral situations within a D/s relationship compared to a vanilla relationship. I discussed the difference in communication, expectations, and how shared responsibilities can foster underlying resentment. Then as a final point I looked to civilization's history and explained how up until the 1960's, culturally women were expected to be submissive to their men, remain in the home, be seen but not heard, cook, clean, provide sexual pleasure rather than receive it all while putting on a smile and looking good. I explained that in a nutshell, those general principles are some of the basic things I crave in any relationship. I genuinely receive pleasure from making othera happy in any capacity. I then asked her if her husband evokes even a percent of those qualitie.......I told her no response IS a response, thanked her for out final session and exited the room.  So to sum things up, I'm back here again in hope to find someone with similar values, aspirations and ambitions in life. It's always darkest before the light.

    Thought for the day. It takes very little to make a person’s day. It also takes very little to destroy it.  Be kind unless its appropriate not to.  

slave knows no gender, has no expectations, lives to please its betters, keeps its Owner always in mind, knows and expresses gratitude among other things. The slave reading this probably feels inadequate with out the ability to ever 'measure up.' And, well it should. However, I have never found a slave that adequately fills the above list of particulars. So, I expect to devote much energy and time to training; maybe a life time. Do not worry about coming to Me as a finished, accomplished slave. Rather, come to Me with an abiding need to be subsumed in devotion and service. Everything else can follow. Master James

14-JUNE-2026. UNDERSTANDING THAT IS NOT MINE. Following a message someone sent, I felt it necessary to tell him: I cannot take credit for being so understanding with El. The day I arrived at the hospital, last year, the 30th of April, I was stopped outside with a thought that was not mine. I wrote it down and then went in. "Say goodbye to the man that was, greet the man that is, welcome the man that will be."  That was exactly how it entered my head. So that means it was not me but the Holy Spirit. It became my motto for the next 13 months. Each time I wept alone because I missed how he had been, the motto was there, so that when I was WITH him, it was who he had become that I interacted with, not the old version of him. This was ever changing at a rapid rate this year. The first tumour was in his frontal lobe and his personality was effected. The second and last tumour was on his brain stem. So since January it was his motor skills that began to fail. There was no going backwards, only forwards in the degeneration. It was like seeing someone rapidly cycle through old age and become decrepit within months not years or decades. I went through anticipatory grief right away last year. I didn't know what it was at first. Why cry so profoundly that I was unable to get up off the floor, unable to stop? It was because my whole nervous system had lost him in so many ways and knew it. He has become TheInbetweenMan, staring into the distance. Occasionally when visiting him he would be as he used to be and that turned out to be even worse for me afterwards. His awareness was laser sharp. Then the crying was worse at home. It was as if I had opened a window and seen El once again, like he had been for the 8 years since I had met him. There was no rhyme or reason for these brief moments of total Presence. I knew his medication. Had googled it. He was not on pain killers or sedatives. Most  of his friends, when they visited and I was there, felt he was the same ol' El. I could see the effort he went to during those visits to mask his In-betweenness. It was as if he knew on some level that he needed to do that to reassure them. With me and his mum,  as he lived with her, he quickly slipped away again, the tv numbing him. I did work out that any recollections of the wild youth he had was the easiest way to stimulate him and so used this when I was there and others visited. I knew all the stories. He had always loved telling me about that time in his life. Standing up in the front room for the really good ones, arms moving about. Always such a grin on his face when he told me. I did it in the hospital as a smoke screen for him. They were total strangers to me but his life long friends and family. There I was recalling memories of his youth or trips to Africa with me. El' would have his eyes closed and listen and smile. It filled the spaces of awkwardness others felt. One friend did not want to go to the hospital. I told her I would be there. She was crying at his bed. The last thing he said was "love ya T" and smiled. She dissolved into more tears. She told me later how much that meant to her. Many are scared of seeing someone disintegrate. But the sick person still needs them around. He didn't want to sign a DNR because he wanted to see his friends one last time. So the doctor and I had go walk and talk him through what it meant to be beaten back to life. The broken ribs, the intubation. Doc and I knew he didn't understand his tumour was shutting his body down. So, he agreed to the DNR. This meant he also finally understood he was terminal and not getting out of the hospital. No need to mention his mum was not happy the doctor spoke to him without her there, as next of kin. She shielded him from the reality of his demise. I was there that afternoon and so I was the one to make him understand. It was 13 months of biting my tongue around him. As I told his ghost. "You didn't marry me, so you never made me next of kin." His whole 13 months would of been different. For instance he always wanted to see the Jurassic coast and the monkey park. I would of given him far more little pleasures like that. Far better than the TV all day. Plus made sure he visited his friends more often or simply went to his favourite Café for a fry-up. Once he and I went to the one downstairs from his flat and we went to town and bought him house shoes. As for his friends, he missed them but they seldom went to his mums and some never went. They tell me now that they were intimidated. I thought it was just me ! His mum wrapped him in cotton wool and tucked him under her wing to keep baby safe. Thanks Pink Floyd. I finally understand the song. One can only look on and keep  the mouth shut when one is no longer with someone as their significant other. Even if I had still been his missus, but not married, she would of bulldozed me in many ways. My previous husband married me expressly so his Jewish mother would not have the last say in his possible illness. I had all the instructions given to me on what to do in the case of this or that situation. Not a discussion any other person I knew ever had with me, when they were healthy. His motto was: " plan as if you are going to live forever, but live as if you have only one day left." He wants to make it to at least 90+ like both his parents. So he has another 20 years at least, the way he has it worked out.. Well folks,  maybe a less cheerful entry but maybe a life lesson or two in there. It is another absolutely clear sky day in London. What will today be like? A present to unwrap, hour by hour. Peace.. over and out. 

Ok, here goes another journal entry, another step down this path… As always, I am subMeghan, and as required, as I type this this, I am completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… First things first. My Dom got a new toy for me.  It’s called a “cheek retractor dental mouth gag”.  Here’s a link to what they are: https://www.extremerestraints.com/cheek-retractor-dental-mouth-gag.html We’ve been trying it out this weekend and so far we are both really liking it…  a lot!  My Dom just loves, loves, loves how I look when I wear it.  I knew right away that he’d like it from the perspective of fucking my mouth, but he also is obsessed with me just wearing it. In fact I am wearing it right now as I type.  In fact, I’ve been wearing it around the house most of the weekend.  As far as gags go, all in all, it’s really comfortable.  Compared to some other types of gags, breathing is not an issue at all.  Drooling of course is unavoidable. And yes, I’ve got drool all over my chest. (My Dom loves to see me drool.)  I just need to make sure I don’t drool on the keyboard. lol This has all been part of a puppygirl weekend, which is something we do from time to time.  In a nutshell, I spend the entire weekend as a nude puppygirl, doing any number of puppygirl activities.  I get off on it which only makes the sex all the better. (Perhaps I’ll elaborate of that in a future journal entry.) Enunciating while trying to talk while wearing this gag is extremely difficult.  So I haven’t been saying much this weekend.  However, I can still make barking-like noises.  Lol  You literally cannot say “woof” or “bark” while wearing this gag.  I ended up going with an “arf” like noise... We ended the session about an hour ago and now I’m human again.  This will give me enough time to take care of all the weekend chores around the house. That’s about it for now.  I’ve got chores to do.  So, this is naked, drooling subMeghan signing off. Until next time... 

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

    The Guest House This being human is a guest house.Every morning a new arrival.   A joy, a depression, a meanness,some momentary awareness comesas an unexpected visitor.   Welcome and entertain them all!Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,who violently sweep your houseempty of its furniture,still, treat each guest honorably.He may be clearing you outfor some new delight.   The dark thought, the shame, the malice,meet them at the door laughing,and invite them in.   Be grateful for whoever comes,because each has been sent by a guide above. 

It's fun how often men approach me online proclaiming that they're somehow "floored" by my intelligence, and that it's just sooo difficult to find intelligent women online, and of course, they recognize intelligence because of how extremely intelligent they are themselves.  They're looking for someone intelligent just like me, but obviously they don't actually want someone intelligent just like me since I am not flattered by such clownery.  But they sure do want me to be flattered by such a clown tactic.  There are a number of reasons it doesn't work: I know I'm intelligent and don't need the validation for it from random strangers online.  Just like these men don't seek validation for their intelligence from strangers online. When you're smart or funny or kind or any number of traits, you don't need to start conversations by announcing it to others and trying to convincing them that you have those traits; people recognize them for themselves - especially when those people are as "intelligent" as you're claiming they are. I am not some grand exception; there is a limitless number of intelligent women online, here and on every site.  It's easy to tell there are so many since they message me and we talk - they just aren't interested in reaching out to you.  You haven't flattered me by announcing how dumb other women are to you, but you've told me a lot about what you think of women and their intelligence, mine included. The men who expect a woman to be flattered by telling her how very exceptional she is for being intelligent are simply using it as a pickup line.  People who think I'm smart, and who want to engage with me as a result, simply engage with me, without waxing poetic about how smart I am and how smart they are and how they've been looking for someone smart just like me. It's a pick up line.  Talking about how smart they are and how smart they find me isn't even a conversation.  They're interested in me and they hope that by appealing to my intelligence rather than by being more blatant in their tactics, I'll be more receptive.  It's not flattering to me, but it is an unflattering look on these guys.  Genuine people engage genuinely.

Move on....  That moment when you think you might be healed enough (do you ever really heal fully?) to maybe move on... To allow yourself the opportunity to connect again.To explore.To smile.To be vulnerable.To trust.To hope.To maybe even, g... fall in love. Instead, missed connections, pushed away strangers, lost opportunities. For what? Oh, what foolish dreams may come. Maybe someday...

  Physical attractions are common but  Mental connections are rare   Once you have had the latter, the former will never be enough again.

You want a chase And I'll give you one baby Two can play this game I'll have you coming back  Make me scream your name in bed And afterwards I'll push you away Then I'll sing songs to you and dance for you But you mustn't touch I'll have you crawling back to mate But oh why should I cave in I'll tell you no  And smile as I walk away Want a chase I'll give you one Remember you put me on that pedestal  Now I'll have you begging you didn't Two can play the game giving a way for a chase I'll be your prey in this scene But can you catch me or will I get away?  Darling your making me dangerous like you Touch me and it will burn  Just like you did to me After all we dance in the flames The pain sounds like your name Now I have you begging me asking if you're going insane    

Starting the New Year Off Right! We had a lovely, laid back New Year's Eve. I was all ready to snuggle in and fall asleep on Master's chest. He had other plans! Just as I got close he sprang his trap. I quickly found his belt looped around my neck. I was completely at his mercy. He would constrict and loosen it as he played with my clit. I quickly became drenched. However, this did not deter him. He continued on increasing my state of arousal as he choked me. This continued for what seemed like forever, but really was more like a half hour. Finally, he pulled me to my knees and sunk his delicious cock all the way into me from behind. Pulling back on the belt still around my neck he forced me into him as he fucked me. Then he changed positions with him on top and he tightened the belt around my throat as he stroked in and out. The choking intesified my own orgasm as we came together. It was a very Happy New Year!

Doors, and the Men Brave Enough to Open Them I need to talk about housing, because the situation has moved from inconvenient to urgent and I have never been the kind of woman who dresses up an uncomfortable truth to make it easier to look at. The burglary destabilized something that was already fragile. The particular violation of having your home invaded, the way it changes the quality of the air in a space you were supposed to feel safe in, has made staying where I am feel increasingly untenable. And so I have been doing what practical women do: looking at options, running numbers, weighing what is available against what I actually need, and arriving repeatedly at the same frustrating conclusion. The budget and the requirement do not currently overlap in the way I need them to. Chicago is not a forgiving market. What I can afford and what my children deserve and what my own standards require form a very specific Venn diagram with a smaller center than I would like. I am not defeated by this. But I am frustrated, genuinely and specifically, in the way that only financial limitation frustrates a woman who knows exactly what she should have and cannot yet reach it. And so I find myself thinking about a different kind of solution. One that lives not in the listings I scroll through late at night but in the framework of the life I am actually trying to build. The truest forms of submission are not always the ones that happen on a marble floor or at the end of a leash at a Renaissance faire. Sometimes the truest form of submission is a man who looks at the woman he serves and says: my home is yours. Come and make it what it should be. Let me provide the foundation and trust you completely with everything built on top of it. That is what I am thinking about. A sub who opens his doors is offering something more profound than service in the conventional sense. He is offering sovereignty. He is saying: I trust your vision, your standards, your taste, your authority over the space we will share, completely and without reservation. He is handing over not just his time and his attention but the most intimate expression of his daily life, the home he lives in, and inviting a woman of genuine authority to take it in hand and make it into something neither of them could produce alone. I think about what that would look like in practice, and it looks like this: I come home from work and from school and from the particular exhaustion of a life I carry with full commitment, and I come home to a space that has been held in my absence with the same care I would give it myself. The children are received. Dinner exists. The household has been managed not because I directed every step but because the man inside it has internalized my standards deeply enough that my presence or absence changes nothing about the quality of the result. The home runs on my vision and his execution and the collaboration between those two things produces something genuinely beautiful. I would be the homemaker in the truest sense: the one who makes the home what it is, whose taste and authority and presence defines the atmosphere and the culture of the space, while still working and studying and mothering and building the future I have mapped out so precisely. Not because I need someone to fund me into passivity, that is not who I am and never will be, but because the domestic load distributed correctly, between a woman who knows what she wants her home to be and a man who has made producing that his devoted purpose, is what allows both people to function at their highest level. This is not a fantasy of convenience. This is the framework. This is what the life I have described across every entry in this space actually requires to function. The architecture of everything I am building has this at its foundation: a shared home, governed by my standards, maintained by his devotion, built around my children's stability and my own restoration and the slow and serious construction of a future that looks like what I deserve. The man who offers his door is not losing anything. He is gaining the most clarifying thing available to someone like him: a woman who knows exactly what to do with the space he has been living in alone, waiting without quite knowing what he was waiting for. I am not difficult to house. I am specific. There is a difference. I know what I am looking for. I know it exists. And I am, as always, building toward it whether or not it has arrived yet.   It will.

The grass is greener on the other side. Met someone normal from this site. Both very busy working professionals but seem to be orbiting which is not a bad thing just waiting to align a little. Meeting someone normal makes you look at this site a little differently. Your not dissappointed by the odd time waster because your time has no longer been wasted. Your hopeful about a possible relationship now being closer to one that might have some sort of functionality in a modern busy working professionals relationship. Makes you not want to advertise your vexes with the site but merely observe and let not affect you anymore.   - The grass is greener on the other side.

Well, let me kick off this writing to you with this first document This one and all others may use words and describe parts of life and relationships that the uninterested my find offensive I also may often you the word you or another pronoun that has the same meaning I am writing to your mind to read and understand me and give me significant feedback so I understand you as well Because I am writing this more or less on the fly, the thoughts may be laid out a bit more scattered than a book, but too bad I am writing to the submissive deep in your mind and being, the slave or the masochist that needs and desires and wants and needs more So hang in there You must have a very strong mind which is determined to learn things most just ignore Let me touch on some emotions as the physical, mental and emotional state of life is so deep into all this Most people are basically insecure That is why research has shown that up to 98 percent of people are very satisfied being followers and letting others take the responsibility of decision making and leadership The mentality of a person that advocates she is a slave is right there She looks first of all for safety and security and close behind that is the need to feel wanted, to be needed, to be of value In return for that emotional reassurance she is very willing to do almost anything to please another because that is the one great thing she has the power to do Being bound tight she nearly always tests the bondage to see if she can get away It is important to her that she cannot because it has an emotional meaning that someone took the extra time to insure that grip on her and it carries the meaning that she is wanted Almost any of strict control, humiliation and abuse is far better than being alone and unwanted It does not need the complications of sex or to say someone loves you or that they would never want someone else one day far off At that moment it is a simple fact they want you and that is what starts your life living As you step into it deeper, being blindfolded or hooded restricting eyesight calms you in very deep ways Its that other one is taking responsibility for you and your needs and most of all your safety You will want to feel it, and reach out for the one controlling you that way Being locked in a cage has at least a double meaning emotionally You are restrained and kept and thus very limited in what you can do without someone wanting you to do it by letting you out But there is also that gate and lock between you and the world, which can be seen as keeping all the evil things that chase you real or imagined out where they can not reach you A strict cage not only is like your prison, but also like your base or your fortress where again you are safe, where you can indeed relax and sleep And that collar Like a wedding ring, it means so much to a submissive slave She has made it and her ownership and that desire to take her is on display for all to see When you can, you finger it and hold it and fidget with it, and know it is there for a real purpose But to have all this requires that someone really does want you, be it for the better or the worst, that want and desire is real and gives you a place and purpose in life And with that, you are never really alone In time, you may feel frighten or scared or even cry when it is taken off when for a short time Even deeper is the matter of control, and how it reaches into your personal thoughts and life and gives you something to live up to and meet in a consistent way Both pain and pleasure are emotions first and are often never tended well in everyday life In a stricter life, so much fluff and useless energy is removed or not allowed and something special happens You can focus You can see more clearly yourself and all you need to be as well as all you want to be Yes, it takes time and training and understanding to know the reason why you feel that the slave in you must submit and submit deeply and unendingly Those emotions of need and want are so different and so rarely understood You can want this feeling to be like a beautiful ring to wear, and you want it a lot but you can eat and drink and breathe without it everyday of your life A need is like the air that you breathe and that need is so powerful that a few minutes, without it you are dead A slave grows up wanting things, but at the same time she grows up needing things Control and submission show the path of making the needs a reality You learn to focus on those things in life that are needs and those that are wants when all the fluff is removed and those distractions to your emotional thought process are removed I am a writer, and a scientist and I can go on and on about this, and do so in the face of all those that just want their experience to be sex with a little rope The true slave and the true owner learn that there really is so much more to this life

Depression wears funky shoes...does not matter what they look like, anymore, they all hurt and bring tears to my eyes. Food fills a void. And then my reflection hurts as well. Days pass. Alone most of the time with little that asks to be done. Care becomes a bird with no feathers that cannot fly. Hope is my shoe sole with lots of holes. Nothing matters. Nothing changes. Especially me...days come and go and will, till i die, my next horizon, the grave, how exciting. Sun rises and sets as if change cannot happen. Tick tock...tick tock... Am i waiting for Godot? Should i pin my eyelids open or no, maybe closed. Maybe not seeing what is before would help. And...maybe not...ah well...time heals all or, if nothing else, takes what we want and leaves us to make a legacy. i have only words to hold what has been and could never be. Something happened and joy left me.

Subtle Tease of The Day This one is simple. It requires no toys or even touching. You don't even need privacy. Every hour (or a feasible but consistent interval) complete this sentence: "I get aroused when I think of ... and I get wet when I imagine..." That's it. Take a moment or two to fantasize. You don't have to share your thoughts. They are welcome

The Throne Room Our friends were meeting us at the dungeon.  We tried this scene at home and we ended up pulling out the ceiling chains from the rafters.  The set up was for suspension not stretching.  So we planned on doing this stretching scene in the throne room at the dungeon. That was the plan.  The set up was simple.  I was going to be in the middle and our friends were going to be on each side of me.  My wrists were attached to chains that went to the ceiling and the excess chain hanged down on each side of me so that our friends could pull them.   The dominant watched from the throne placed in n front of me.  She would give the order and the chains would be pulled and I would be lifted onto the air with my arms pulled wide.  That was the plan.   For this scene I didn't have much to do.  All I had to do was strip down to my string bikini bottoms and attach chains to my suspension cuffs.  My arms were spread wide as I waited for the order.   "Stretch her!"  The husband and wife on either side of me started pulling the chains.  But they struggled.  By flexing my biceps I was able to fight the chains.  Two more friends who were watching joined in.  Now there were two people on each side of me pulling the chains.  By flexing my biceps I was still able to fight the chains.   Two more people joined in.  I now had six people trying to pull me apart.  I was now on my tiptoes as my arms were being pulled wide and I was being stretched.  Two more people joined in.  I now had eight people, four on each side, pulling the chains that were now stretching me.   I was now lifted off the floor with my arms tightly stretched by the chains.  I let out a long moan of pain as I was being pulled apart.  My torturers looked up at my torture stretched body and waited for the order  "Enough!" They let go of the chains and I dropped to the floor.  Spent.  

We were at a party on the camp site where Katie was dancing and flirting with a couple of guys who were new to the site. Not being a dancer myself I was sitting at a table drinking with a few friends. I watched with interest as the three of them were having fun on floor and dancing sexy to the slower records being played. I think they thought my wife was a single woman as their hands were all over her and both rubbing up against her. They were buying her drinks all night and at one point she must have told them who I was because half way through the night one of them came over and apologized and asked if I was okay to the fact that they were dancing with her and buying her drinks. I assured him there was no problem and that I was actually enjoying watching them have fun. To cut a long story short she was pretty drunk by the end of the night. They came over and apologized for getting her so drunk and offered to help me take her back to our campervan as she could hardly stand up and the van was parked some distance away. I was not that drunk myself but made out I was. On the way back to the van she passed out and we had to carry her the rest of the way. Back in the van we laid her on the bed and I thanked them for helping me get her back. I invited them to stay for a while and gave them both a cold beer from the fridge. After chatting about the party for 15 minutes or so I suddenly said "Oh my god, She'll kill me tomorrow." I lied. "That's a new dress, she only bought it today, cost a lot of money too" Pretending to be more drunk than I was I sat on the bed and tried to lift her head up in an attempt to take her dress off. Not being able to I asked if they could help. One of them pulled her up by her arms so she was in a sit up position. I managed to undo the zip on the back of her dress. I unhooked her bra too. After managing to get her dress off I put it on a hanger as she laid there in just her panties with her loose bra and her breasts partly on show. I said "Oh well might as well get her into bed" I removed her bra and panties leaving her there totally nude for their pleasure. Without making it obvious I slightly opened her legs so her cunt was on show. That was when I gave them another beer and made the excuse that I needed a wee up a tree and left the van leaving them alone with her.. It was pitch black outside and bright in the van. You could not see out of the vans windows but leaving the curtains ajar I had a perfect view of inside. 

It may have taken nearly two years but the world is back and so am I.   Very excited to meet you!   Let's chat.     

A lot of people here are searching for their self.  I appreciate this and encourage it. I am not searching for myself.  I know who I am and what I am looking for in life and in partner(s) - I SEEK PRESENCE.  I SEEK SERVICE.  I SEEK COMMITTMENT. I am POLY.  My household and those whom you would be serving are TWO WOMEN - MOTHER AND MYSELF.  Service to mother is doing anything I would do for her. I am POLY.  I choose to have relationships with MORE THAN ONE MAN AND UNDER THE SAME ROOF.  Do not contact me if you cannot handle being part of a FAMILY. SAFE SANE AND CONSENSUAL - RISK AWARE - NOTHING UNHEALTHY UNSAFE OR ILLEGAL.  CONTRACTS get to the nitty gritty of the outline WE follow in our engagements and where we may draw outside of the lines.  They also discuss YOUR CONTRIBUTION(S) to our home, STD's, Emergency Contacts, Health status and a lot more. YOU SUBMIT TO ME.  That means YOU start the process with WHAT YOU SUBMIT TO.  Dont come to me stating you will do anything or with your list of likes.  Come to me with a readiness to live this life REAL TIME FULL TIME WITH A FEMALE HEAD OF HOUSEHOLD. If you are looking to life a life, chained up in my basement, eating my scraps from a dog bowl, or better still only eating shit, you better come with a handler as well.  Be of genuine and sincere value to this home and to me and my family and be seeking to belong to a family.              

Studies Show...Intelligent girls are more depressedBecause they knowWhat the world is really likeDon't think for a beat it makes it betterWhen you sit her down and tell herEverything's gonna all rightShe knows in society she either isA devil or an angel with no in betweenShe speaks in third personSo she can forget that she's me

What's Forrest Gumps password?      1forrest1   I am not perfect, I don’t expect those around me to be either. I don’t dwell on mistakes or the past. I choose to move on. We have all stumbled on this venture of finding the right person. Those stumbles do NOT define us. How we work our way through the problem does.  Why do we look for someone else to be perfect?  Are we?  Do we bring baggage to the relationship?We each need to find someone who makes us happy and whole, then lean on each other through the hard times.  Find someone who is willing to meet you halfway and adjust as we grow.  Learn from each other and teach each other.   How long are we willing to look for perfect ?  NEVER accept TOXICITY as acceptable. 

Read a profile tonight.  The dumbnant said that he is looking for someone he can tell "what a piece of shit she is even in front of others even her family".What ever happened to "don't scare the nillas"?Vanilla people didn't consent to be a part of your dynamic. Even other kinksters didn't consent.Who are you to do what we do in front of non-consenting people, especially if it can have consequences for your partner outside of bdsm circles?That just screams to me of someone who is an abuser, not a dom.Prove me wrong. For some reason, won't let me spell d-u-m-b-i-n-a-n-t right ..

It is important to note that the specific tasks assigned to a submissive in a BDSM relationship can vary greatly and should be mutually agreed upon by all parties involved. However, some examples of tasks that a submissive might be assigned include: Cooking and cleaning the house Running errands or completing specific tasks as requested by the dominant Maintaining a specific appearance or dress code Engaging in specific sexual acts or role-playing scenarios Following strict rules or protocols Participating in BDSM activities such as bondage or impact play Participating in BDSM rituals or ceremonies. It is important to remember that BDSM should always be safe, consensual, and respectful. All parties involved should communicate their boundaries and desires clearly and negotiate any tasks or activities beforehand.

Orlando continues to have a markedly high number of HIV diagnoses, much like Florida as a whole, and the area is struggling to get care for those who need it, according to newly released analyses of 2021 data. That year, 618 people in metro Orlando were diagnosed with the human immunodeficiency virus, which can cause AIDS, bringing the total number of HIV-diagnosed people in the metro area to 14,298. Florida— with 5,000 new cases each year over the last decade — has among the nation’s highest rates of new diagnoses and hasn’t seen much of a decline even as the U.S. saw an 8% decrease over the last 10 years. Orlando’s rate of HIV-positive residents is higher than Florida’s average and almost double the national average, according to data released Nov. 14 on Aidsvu.org, which visualizes HIV’s impact using data from state and city health departments compiled by researchers at the Emory University  Take care of yourself. Don't be a statistic

Yes, age is just a number.  My husband was 12 years older than me, so it is a number that had never really bothered me.  That being said... Age is a real thing.  We all have baggage and being a widow is (just some) of mine.  You will have to accept I am not a divorcee, I will always speak lovingly of my past husband as he is not an "ex" and I have experienced a decade of being a caretaker for an older man.  That season of life is done.  This is my season to be cared for.  Call me selfish, call my bias, call me whatever... but this is the baggage I carry, these are my scars.  I am truly grateful for all the mail I have gotten from the 60+ something crowd... but I can be nothng but honest and say, it isn't going anywhere, no matter how great we get along...  Age IS more than just a number... It is deteroration of your kidney's, and heart, and liver.  It is break down of your joints, it is restless legs, and trouble with the lungs... I  am glad you eat great and hit the gym every day... that right there makes us total opposites for the vanilla side of life... 

Here is the deal .  Just because you send Me a picture of yourself does not mean I have to send you Mine.  If I wanted My picture out there I would have it on My profile now wouldn't I ?   If I get to really know you and think that we might be a possibility I have no problem sending , picture, email and phone.    However and until then don't ask for any of that.   Understand I get several messages a day.   Some are ones from another country, some are just looking to " play"  some are only in a fantasy space in their heads, some are married , some have their own place and will never move.  There are many variations and reasons why I don't go farther with somone. But, those are the main ones.   Honesty seems to be quite rare on here.... First be honest with yourself. We aren't looking for someone perfect, loyalty, honesty and long term that is what I am looking for.  That is what I'm used to and like.  And men seriously ... use that little brain of yours. This site is getting more and more scammers of men posing as woman. They say all the "right things" and some of you believe it, then they ask for money. Wake up, it don't work that way. A 29 year old model with a stolen only fans picture is NOT  after you.  he/she/it want's your money thats it.  Don't be stupid and encourage  the scammers .  

Minoan culture celebrated the potential of the woman, and their schools were designed to identify, encourage and refine that potential. Most of the girls who went into one of the training schools came from either trading, such as via markets or auctions, or from nominations by families wishing to see their daughters learn what were considered highly desirable and profitable skills. Families paid hefty fees if their daughter was accepted by a school as at the completion of training the girl would almost always return home. This is why at each induction of girls, nominated girls were much outnumbered by those who came through trade. It is a mistake to believe that Minoan training schools were in competition with other as there is telling evidence that they acted more as a collective, each specialising in certain areas that other schools either only touched lightly upon or avoided altogether. However, each school did possess their own unique means of attaining girls, be it through deals with ship owners who plied between specific regions, or army leaders who could give access to spoils of conflict, and even those who ran work houses, orphanages or debt collections. Sources were many and varied, and every school had their own means of attaining stock. Thus, there are frescoes and murals depicting what can be mistaked for typical slave auctions or the like. More likely, these were gatherings of representatives from each school, all looking for the best candidates for their yearly inductions. Think of it as a modern day draft between teams looking to fill certain roles and discover certain talents. Many qualities, from physical appearance to spoken languages, from prior education and learned skills to physical and mental health. The two roles within a given school were roughly equivalent to workers such as cooks, cleaners etc through to the students themselves.  The name given to a student is roughly equivalent to candidate.   Questions?

I had one of those dreams that takes you all over the place (takes has an s because the subject is one, not dreams- grammar is important). I actually knew all of the key players in this dream, that almost never happens. It was all family. Started out at some kind of a community pool that was right next to a prison. Random, I know. My brother was playing catch with some kid in the pool using my dog's ball. Of course the ball bounces out of the pool area and over the fence into the space in front of the prison. Can't get it. I decide I'm going to ask the guard in the tower with the gun if it's okay to go around and get my dog's ball, but right then all the sirens go off and someone is escaping. The pool transforms into the house we're all staying at with a bunch of sliding glass doors right there. I'm freaking out and trying to close and lock the doors because the escapee has climbed the fence and is about to come into the house. And he does. His name is Han and he sits down with us and eats some pie that my sister made. The pie is terrible. But then my parents show up and it's a big game of pretend Han didn't just escape and we also don't have completely working electricity so fake them out with switches and light bulbs. I think at that point it morphed into this whole trying to set me up with this guy who happened to stop by situation, and now we're at my grandmother's house. They all love him. I do not. He's a nice guy and all, but just not for me. Blah, blah, blah, details, and then it's Christmas and an entirely different house I don't know, but my family is there and someone bought me another puppy. It's small and brown and although his name is Jelly Bean I rename him Buffalo Bill. He's running all around chasing cats and having a good time. Phone call from my grandmother because I made her cookies turns into a tech support call for a gift she got. She's dead, by the way. I don't often dream of her but here she is. Blah, blah, family stuff. I don't remember the reason but my brother and I end up outside searching for something down the street. Not the dogs, something else. We don't find it and as we walk back to the house the door is wide open. We're concerned. Go inside, inquire, and my fucking step father left the door wide open and didn't know it. None of the animals got out but son of a bitch if that isn't par for the course right there. More weird stuff happened but I'll stop there. Buffalo Bill? I guess it's not impossible. I mean, it was my dream, right? But so random. The real puppy is doing the heavy sleep breathing a few inches from my head. I both love when she's close and find it annoying that I can't move around the way I tend to because she's blocking me. She is extra cute, though, so right now I'm going to give her kisses and try to sleep for a little before the alarm. 

I want to break you I want to break you, but I highly doubt I mean that in the way you've heard it used so many times before. Where it is most commonly used is by those who wants the perks of being a dominant/master/daddy whatever without any of the challenges or effort that requires. I've heard the same retellings of the same kinds of stories by submissive women over the years. The dominants who tell women they aren't true submissives because they dared ask a question? Those who's ego are so incredibly fragile they throw a fit at even the suggestion of someone "challenging" them. Those who demand superficial respect instead of cultivating it. Those who are so insecure in their control that they need to exercise it endlessly. Those who want to destroy out of insecurity and hate. Yes I want to break you. I want to break you free from the noise that holds you back. I want to break the mental walls that separate you from the pure submissive being you crave to be. I want to break you of the need to be something that doesn't bring you fulfillment. I want to break you of the aimless lack of purpose. I want to break you free from the confinement that freedom actually is. I want to break you of everything holding you back from being the content, fulfilled, devoted, soft, purpose filled, sub/slave that you know you are and just can't reach.

An important message follows this little plea for help, so, read on after this paragraph.  My old iMac has been opened and the hard drive taken out and tested.  The current tech can not download the data from it.  I understand there are others that might be able to.  My plea is help in finding some one.  Do you know of anyone or service accomplished in such a data rescue?     I have tried to inform prospective slave property what life as My chattel could be like.  I have put time and effort into describing what an accomplished slave might experience using examples to help make clear My desires.  The reader might do well to appreciate the fact that I am not trying to 'groom' anyone with false images of what might be.   However, as I read all I have written I fear I have misinformed about My expectations.  A read of all contained here in might well lead a prospective slave to discouragement with the thought it could not ever become what I portray.  I do not want any prospect to be discouraged with the thoughts of failure.  I do not expect anything like an accomplished slave property to start with.  Instead, I look for a slave type with a desire to become totally emotionally attached with Me and desirous of pleasing an Owner as a slave.  Nothing more.     In fact, many slaves will never become all I might desire.  That does not mean I would not want to own it.  Actually, I enjoy the process of training even if the results may not be all I might hope for.  The effort and dedication of a slave to that process is a treasure to me, not necessarily the results.   Here is an example of what I am trying to express: I have preferences with regard to the physical attributes of My slave property.  Although I am prepared to work with time and effort to make changes in the slave to make the property more desirable to Me, some changes are impossible.  An example might be the length of a slave tongue.  I want a long tongue to come from the mouth of a slave for certain services.  Very few slaves are so endowed.  There is little that can be done to lengthen a tongue, although the effort to do so can be rewarding, at least to me.  Does that mean I will not take to property a slave with a deficient tongue? No, certainly not.   The same is true of a slave that can not emotionally or mentally quite measure up to some of the wilder desires I have.  Does that mean I will not take to property slave with a deficient mental attitude?  No certainly not.  As with the tongue example, the effort of the slave property to gain a more pleasing, to me at least, mental attitude is rewarding and a treasure to me.     So, the slave prospect that is reading this should take heart and not become discouraged at the prospective future.  Rather, it should try to live in the current moment, allow the feelings that are natural to it to manifest inside it's head and heart allow the subspace it so dearly needs to flow through it and enjoy that feeling as it reads.    

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

WELL FOLKS I HAVE GOTTEN MOVED AS OF LAST NIGHT MARCH 29. NOW HAVE TO GET SOME REST SO I CAN GET NEW HOUSE STRAIGHTEN OUT. I LOST ONE OF MY PUPS BECAUSE SHE WAS SO SCARED OF THE MOVE. SHE STAYED UNDER THE HOUSE. COULDN'T GET HER OUT. BUT I LEFT FOOD AND WATER FOR HER. SHE DIDN'T BARK LIKE SHE DID THE DAY BEFORE, YESTERDAY. THE NEIGHBORS WILL KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR HER. NOT MEETING ANYONE YET. BUT WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN. HAVE A GREAT DAY!            MISTRESS CATSTAR...

  hope, still Since nineteen I’ve wandered, with stars in my chest, Through years full of aching, through trials and tests. I’ve searched in the silence, in moments I’d cry, And whispered to shadows my tear-threaded why. I’ve given up hope, then lit it anew, Wrote love in the margins, believed it was true. The road has been winding, the nights have been long, But I’ve kept my soul tethered to one quiet song. Today I still listen, my heart open wide, For the one who will see me and stand by my side. Who’ll meet me with presence, and power, and grace, To hold all my parts in their rightful place.   So come now, Daddy, I’ve waited so long— Collar me gently, where I truly belong.

16 years I've been on this site, almost to the day.  Probably longer than that because I'm not sure this was my first profile.  And before that, I was on other similar sites all the way back to the beginning of the internet, and the old bulletin boards.  And before the internet, yes, I am that old, the bdsm magazines and underground classifieds.  I search, sometimes for years because I have very high standards and there are a lot of haystacks and very few needles in the bdsm world, until I find someone, then I go away.  Unfortunately none of those relationships have been forever, though they were each wonderful in their own way, and I guess I am blessed that each ended on good terms.  My last relationship ended 3 years ago.  I am here, on FL, a few other web sites, and on a bunch of the dating apps.  I have a lot to offer, both bdsm and vanilla.  No, I'm not a sugar daddy.  I'm happy to share.  Supporting a lazy deadbeat isn't in the cards.  If you don't have enough pride to contribute to your own lifestyle, you don't have enough pride to be with me.  I'm seeking a woman who is highly intelligent, who possesses and values integrity, is trustworthy and able to trust when her trust has been earned.  And of course, who desires a long term, real life, 24 7 relationship built around a core of bdsm.  Also should be at least a bit of a geek to insure we have vanilla interests in common. Everything else is negotiable.  You have my permission to contact me first if you think we might be compatible. Please be willing to video chat immediately for both of our safety.

Having fun doing scheduling and booking all of the models for footnight event.  Always spending time researching and being sure the people who attend are true fetishists.  No fakes.  Getting some feedback on why we are so choosy.  Is this bad?  When learing of different fetishes and participating.  Never wanted to play as a fake.  Always wanted to be clear that a fetish is respected and the energy exchange is coming from a true place.  FN, being around since 2002, the fact that foot fetish is so open and mainstream now, we do try to respect it for those who are not just trying to make rent or pay their cell bill, but have a community that does not judge and understands foot worship.  Are we wrong?  I don't think so.  Respect and trust goes right next to consent. Don't you? FootNight Savage

Sexy contract drafted together with AI :) ---------------------------------------------------- Slave Contract This contract is entered into on [date], by and between [Dominant’s Name] (hereinafter referred to as "the Dominant") and [Submissive’s Name] (hereinafter referred to as "the Submissive"). Purpose: The purpose of this contract is to formalize the absolute power exchange relationship between the Dominant and the Submissive, where the Submissive completely surrenders all personal rights and autonomy to the Dominant. Terms and Conditions: Absolute Relinquishment of Rights: The Submissive irrevocably relinquishes all personal rights and autonomy to the Dominant, granting the Dominant absolute control over every aspect of the Submissive's life, including but not limited to physical, emotional, psychological, financial, and social domains. This includes the Submissive relinquishing all property to the Dominant. The Submissive chooses not to have any safeword, fully embracing the Dominant's control without any limits. Total Control and Obedience: The Dominant exercises absolute authority to dictate the Submissive's behavior, appearance, and actions. The Submissive must wear a collar at all times as a symbol of their complete submission and ownership by the Dominant. The Submissive must adhere to a strict dress code and behavioral rules as determined by the Dominant. Punishments and Physical Conditioning: The Dominant has the right to administer any form of punishment deemed necessary to enforce obedience, including physical punishment, marking, starvation, and any other methods to achieve the desired body size and features. The Submissive accepts that punishment is a crucial aspect of their training and will endure any form of discipline without protest. Body and Mind Modification: The Dominant has the unrestricted right to mold, modify, or alter the Submissive's body and mind in any manner deemed necessary, including but not limited to body size, shape, features, permanent marks, and psychological conditioning. The Submissive consents to undergo any procedures, treatments, modifications, or psychological conditioning as directed by the Dominant to fulfill the Dominant’s vision. Sexual Submission: The Submissive is always available to fulfill the Dominant's sexual desires, including the use of the Dominant’s cock, toys, or other means. The Submissive agrees to receive and endure public humiliation and to engage in sexual activities as directed by the Dominant. Surveillance, Chastity, and Recording: The Submissive consents to constant surveillance to ensure compliance with all rules and expectations. The Submissive will wear chastity devices or any other restraints as mandated by the Dominant to enforce control. The Submissive is required to perform on an OnlyFans account or similar platform, which will be owned and controlled by the Dominant. All content produced, including videos, and all money earned through this account are the property of the Dominant. The Dominant retains full ownership and rights to any films or videos recorded during the period of this contract. The Submissive acknowledges that these recordings may be used or distributed at the Dominant’s discretion without any compensation or objection from the Submissive. Irrevocable Commitment and Termination: The duration of this contract is to be set and agreed upon by both the Dominant and the Submissive before signing. This contract cannot be terminated by the Submissive during the agreed-upon duration. Any attempt to escape or disobey will result in severe punishment at the discretion of the Dominant. The Dominant retains the right to extend, amend, or terminate the contract at will. Transfer and Use by Others: The Dominant has the unilateral right to lend, rent out, or sell the Submissive to others, maintaining absolute control over the Submissive’s fate. The Submissive will comply with the commands of anyone designated by the Dominant without question. Clarification and Interpretation: Any uncertainties or ambiguities in this contract will be clarified and interpreted solely by the Dominant, whose decision is final. Verbal commands and clarifications by the Dominant are considered binding and enforceable as part of this contract. Total Submission: The Submissive enters this contract of their own free will, fully understanding the extent of the Dominant’s control and the harshness of the terms. The Submissive accepts that their purpose is to serve, obey, and please the Dominant in all aspects. The Dominant will not be responsible for any damages, physical or psychological, that the Submissive may incur as a result of this contract.   Signatures: [Dominant’s Name]   [Submissive’s Name]   [Witness or Notary, if required]    

Reflecting i sit here in chastity, reminiscing on my past, contemplating the decisions i have made, rationalizing some and regretting others.  It is the ones i regret which pierce deep into the soul, humbling the spirit, causing conflict within, creating a helplessness that overwhelms me into a deepening slavishness. Recollections of disobedience consume my mind, no relief, no escape, an affirmation that i am not perfect.  Is it possible for me to make reparation? Are there limits or do i kneel quietly and endure whatever is given to me for my disobedience?   geo

pet store (3/3) you smile again and wipe your wet fingers on my face. "first, take off your shirt and clean that mess you made." i hesitate for a moment but pull my shirt over my head and start to lean down. "on your knees, and i want that ass up. in fact," you pause dramatically, but i know that tone of voice and shiver. "put the shirt in your mouth, hands behind your back, and clean." i don't hesitate this time, and i put the shirt in my mouth. i'm still holding my new collar in one hand, and reach my arms behind my back so i can grip it with both hands when i spread my legs and lean forward. half my focus is on cleaning my juices off the floor, and the rest is on making sure i'm displaying myself well enough for you. my clit is throbbing from the exposure, and all i can think about is how badly i need to please you. when i finish cleaning to your satisfaction, you order me to stand, but you keep the shirt in my mouth and my hands behind my back. "now," you tell me, "you can either put your filthy shirt back on or i can use it to tie your arms behind your back and put those tits on display. you can choose." i think for a moment then hand you my shirt and the collar, before turning and presenting my arms to be tied. you pull my arms back, thrusting my breasts out further, and tie them tightly. you trace your fingers lightly up my arms and over my breasts, making me shiver as my nipples harden. you pull me back against you and kiss my throat, but your hands continue down my body and slip back under my skirt. one hand holds me still and the other goes right for my clit. you hold me against you, still pressing soft kisses to my throat as i come undone in your hands. you stop before you can push me over the edge but keep holding me still while i suck your wet fingers clean. when my breathing starts to calm, you push me forward. "let's go, babe." as we approach the register, the man working here looks me up and down and smiles. i stumble, having forgotten that we weren't alone, but you keep pushing me forward. we're not heading straight toward him though- with your hand twisted in my hair you steer me toward a display case full of different types of dog tags. we stop in front of it and my eyes meet your reflection's in the back of the case. i don't need to see myself to know that my cheeks are flushed and my lip is swollen from biting it, but i look anyway. i barely recognize the slut i see looking back at me. you bring out the collar we chose and now i can't take my eyes off your hands. i watch them open the collar and fit it around my throat, and when they close the collar i sigh, letting out a breath i hadn't even realized i was holding. i'm staring at myself, transfixed, barely breathing, for a minute before my eyes meet yours again in the mirror. "thank you, sir." you hold my gaze as you pinch my nipples and smirk at me. "we're not done yet, my slut." you keep playing with my nipples with one hand while the other drifts down and under my skirt again. "pick a tag," you tell me, and begin to finger me. you're much rougher this time, bringing me to edge and barely letting me catch my breath before starting again. without my arms free to brace myself, i'm shaking just from trying to stay upright. the only thing keeping my knees locked in place is the knowledge that if i fall to the floor, you'll leave me there to writhe and beg. i shake my head to try to clear some of the cobwebs and pick a dog tag, but before i can speak you stop playing with my breasts and slip your fingers in my mouth. i can see you laughing at me when i can't hold back the whine, but i quickly forget about the dog tag anyway. you do this a few more times, until my whines are turning to screams. the next time you remove your fingers from my mouth to start the cycle again, i immediately shout, "the heart! the heart tag, please, please, the heart!" you wipe both hands clean on my breasts, giving my nipples an extra tug when you do it. i don't remember it happening, but at some point in this you pulled them out of my bra so now they're fully on display. when you're done, you reach out to grab the tag, then push me toward the cashier. i look down, not wanting to see what this man thinks of me right now, but you push me right up to the counter. "tell him what to engrave on the tag, baby." i whimper but don't speak, and your hand comes down hard on my ass. "daddy's little slut," i say in a very small voice. another slap. i say it again louder. another slap. louder, and with a please. another. another. another. you stop after i shout, "please, please engrave my dog tag to say daddy's little slut!" you rub your hand over my sore ass then push me forward, until i'm bent over the counter with my legs spread. "miss?" the clerk asks, causing me to instinctively look up at him. he grins. "can you spell that for me?" each letter comes with another hard slap on my ass. after "daddy's" and "little" you finger me again roughly, bringing me to the edge. after the second edge, i brace myself for another slap, but it doesn't come. instead you grab me and turn me so i'm on my back and spread my legs wide. "you can cum when you're finished, is that clear slut?" i gulp. "yes sir." your hand comes down hard on my oversensitive pussy. S. L. U. on the T, your slap lands directly on my clit and i scream as the orgasm overtakes me.

I'm so happy to be back on Collarspace. This is where it all started for me....about 10-ish years ago when I was just finding out about BDSM and really exploring my kinks (which is currently still evolving)...With that being said... being here is so nostalgic because I've met some amazing people here over the course of years. I'm especially excited to run into some old friends here. So a quick story time....years ago when I was here one of my friends from MIDDLE school found me on this site (not really sure HOW) but we had really good conversations and he talked about the way I use to treat him in middle school as far as being very bossy, dragging him around, TELLING him that he was my boyfriend made him KNOW that he was meant to be a sub/slave. It really put a lopt in perspective for me too because it showed me that this was in fact a n inherent part of my personality....to dominate...to take control...to be the boss...and it came to me so easily...so long short, I'm hoping that i run into this guy here again that would be amazingggg... either way I'm looking forward to the connections I foster this time around. 

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

I'm so excited, Tony is coming tomorrow.  It has been so tough with his job and three challenging kiddos.   Yet he is making the drive tomorrow and we'll have the weekend! WOOT!.   Been working around the cabin, so a lot has been put away, gallery walls completed, furniture and rugs placed, things look so much different from the last time he was here!  I left Christmas up, so we could have our own celebration .  I usually leave things til the end of Eppphany , a wee longer is no big deal, especially because I was late in getting things up . My father has been calling me a lot. He said he wants to move in with me , again. Not til Spring.  I don't know if he is mad at my niece and using me as a threat, or if he's finally ready to do it.     We'll see, I'm not holding my breath. Cataract surgery next week, I can't wait!  I have been struggling for a year and a half!  Hopefully all will go well, and glasses will be occasional, rather than continuously!. Bedtime.    M.  

8/22/23   Didn't know could post again...my my....my writing is elsewhere all of it but feeling shy here....i will have to pick a poem.   The choice was random.   It is heavy,  this life: A mountain  Won't move. The sun burns. Carrion feeds Vulture needs. Somehow we go: Wings grow, Living show Of how we know What we sow.  Waves come crashing: Moon shadow Pulls and pushes, Half or full, The tide hits Ebb or flow, Force let's go... We stand  Together And alone, We stand  As One And two, We stand Because  We can... We stand On land Even though Life hits hard, We stand...we stand... We stand, A Muse, And a Bard, We stand, Unable To sink In this crisis  Of quicksand.    August 2023 zamarra

 "£€ Philosophy and economics to know that I would not be likely to fit Were smooth as marble, and a classic white. I could see no doors   Had been carelessly knotted back together. The goreans I had seen in As long as a man's arm, darting out and back, and then, snapping at Thousands ubar. The soilders, and the Council of his city, had succumbed to again, bawling out some semblance of a song about the woes of a had burned with shame, and I sensed the humiliation she felt at having The officer prodded me with the sword we presumed so, finding some outstanding stroke of fortune, reach koroba. Would she be city? Teasing them as to how handsome their new masters would be. the tent. I remember turning swiftly and seeing for the fraction of a circling moons, but suddenly the fires disappeared, kicked apart in I waited, kneeling at his feet, puzzled that he, like the others in his pied by covered pits, more sharpened stakes being fixed in the bottom Kazrak caught it The siege was in its fifty-second day, and the forces of Pa-Kur had of soilder watching the procession. I ran blindly through the now to the streets below to rally the dispirited citizens of AR, to call them Epilogue

Took all the time to write this so I thought I'd save it here.     Two explorer's are deep in Africa when they are captured by head hunters.  The head hunters bind them each to a pole and carry them for 3 days over hills across a river and through the forest where they finally come to the village.   At the village they are untied and thrown into a cage.  That night the villagers throw a massive party where they feast drink alcohol and dance.     At the height of the festivities the Chief calls for silence and approaches the cage.  Our two explorers see this huge guy standing about 6' 8" tall approach them and they begin to quake.   The Chief points at our first explorer with his big hammock like hands and yells in this deep voice that carries to all ends of the village.   "You! Death or RooRoo?   The first explorer squeaks out " I don't want to die, I'll take RooRoo!"   The Chief turns back to the village and yells "ROOROO!!!"   The tribe goes insane with cheering dancing and drinking and our explorer is pulled from the cage stripped and thrown face down over a log and every man in the village jumps his bones.   The Chief then stomps back to the cage and points at the other explorer.   "You!!  Death or RooRoo?"   The explorer with a look of fear on his face yells back.  "Screw that Rooroo deal I choose death!"   The Chief turns around raising one  raising one massive paw and pronounces the sentence.   "DEATH BY ROOROO!!!"   And the crowd goes wild!  

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

Service person I was out walking along the board walk that runs in front of my condo along Puget Sound. This mile long walkway is busy with pedestrians many with their dogs getting their daily exercise in a rather spectacular setting: delightful. Anyway, most all one might encounter are vanilla types or if they are into D/s not ‘out of their particular closet.’ Most are older with various infirmaries, but, ambulatory. Many have dogs that are poorly trained. Dogs that jump at passersbys or are otherwise ill trained. Occasionally, there are service animals providing protection, direction and confidence to their owners. Rarely, there are guide dogs seeing for their blind wards. Behind me, as I walked, trialed, one and one half step and slightly to my left thank you, my slave property. it walked, as it should, with its eyes focused on my heels with its mouth firmly shut. When I stopped it stopped, as it should maintaining its distance and focus. I was stopped by a chatty elderly woman, vanilla no doubt, that wanted to engage in ‘pleasantries’ for her, no so much for me. Anyway, I put some effort into agreeing it was a beautiful day and dog owner should be more careful to pick up after their mutts etc.  Breaking my boredom she asked, “and who is this with you?” It then dawned on me what her reason probably was for interrupting my walk.  “This is a service person in training.” I said without prior intent or particular consideration for all honest things in my life.   “What in the world is a service person?” she demanded. “Well, (have you noticed how much BS is started with ‘well?’) there are people in the world that have various chronic afflictions that need careful monitoring. Everything from sleep walking to certain types of epilepsy to cardiac conditions etc. Some people have combinations of these afflictions. Although dogs can be trained for some situations training a dog for combinations gets impossible. And so, humans of a certain type are trained to the task.” She was not particularly impressed with my creative explanation, although I confess I enjoyed it a lot. “So what do I call you?” she addressed my slave. Now it knows it does not interact with others without my express permission. So, it looked at me with the ‘what do i do now’ look. “You will have to excuse my trainee for not responding. Just like the service dogs you might encounter, it (I did slip up with that ‘it’ she was vanilla after all) needs not be distracted by attention from others. You know like petting or talking to it (oops again).” With that I continued on my way with slave in trail. As I walked I was designing T shirts that proclaim service person in training for it and service trainer for me or some such variations. Anybody know where I might get T shirts custom printed?    

How to know if you should write to me. If you are tempted to put the abbreviation HMU in an email to me. Save yourself the trouble. Don't write. If your profile or email uses the abbreviation NSA. Don't bother. If you self identify as an adult baby. I'm not interested. If you self identify as a slave. We're probably not compatible. If you self identify as a bull. Save yourself the time. Don't write. If you actually read my profile and are interested in more than the pretty pictures. Please write. If you have met me in the past, online or in person, and want to renew our acquaintance, please write. If you read my journal and you know the passphrase, please write. If your interest in me goes beyond your next fap session, please write. If your profile or email includes the phrases female supremacy or TPE, keep on trucking. If you feel the urge to tell me about wanting to worship my pussy. Go away. If you use the term breeding to describe your interests in bareback sex, you'll want to save us both time and not write.

It must be said as it is, not all str8 males that submit wish or desire the full and total dominance by their Master. Most str8 males feel the abyss that open between them and their percieved sexuality and that casm devours all their idea of their str8 nature as they conceived it. They know they've found their man, a better man, one that surpasses their own masculinity and the want to serve, comply, and surrender all their being. But, do they? It is very hard for a str8 male to get used to being looked at sexually by another male, especially if that male is stripping their identity piece by piece. Not easy to accept but like a moth to a flame, impossible to ignore. However, curiosity can be damming and once all social structures are removed they are alone with  the man they fear and are attracted to. This process is what I call taming. Like a fine horse you must earn the trust and eventually they will on their own volition allow and almost beg to be mounted. Yet, their idea of themselves is from now on in crisis mode; outside assertive and powerful but deep inside they know better and that conflict can any be resolved in the bedroo. In cuckold scenes he is forced" by the female and he submits to what he always wanted but feared to accept. Not that they are pleasing their woman, that is only the official version; but inside, deep they knew it will end that way and it is fine. For a line str8 male, one that chooses the bull that starstrucke them on their own is different; they are lat a loss. How can they feel that lust and attraction is they are Str8, they are not into guys but "this man is different." This man deserves all they can offer and it is an impossible feeling, who to blame, where to hide? That's were I come in, guiding, shaping, and reforming. However, as I push the boundaries that sometimes there is a hard line in the sand and that line, for now is a limit the str8 male is not willing to cross. For example, sending or taking them to a barh house or telling them to perform in person the things they've been taking pictures and sending. Once you get to that like if the bull relents his authority is shattered  In that case one must let go and release that sub. The will come back and beg to be taken back with conditions, don't. It must always be my way and my pleasure, that simple. If they cross that line you have tamed a fine specimen, one that will serve you and thank you for it.  Str8 males are not sissies that is another reality, one that I will address in time. 

Lately I wake up in the middle of the night and the puppy is snuggled right up to my side. Tonight she had pushed her face into the crook of my neck. I love how much she loves me.  Someone recently asked me for clarification on something in my profile, that if he was to assume the responsibility, what was it that I was responsible for and how would it affect his ability to assume responsibilty? In all this time no one has asked me that. It's a brilliant question. I needed to think about it because my initial reaction was to create a laundry list of what I think I contribute, things like loyalty, honesty, snuggles, nurturing, etc. And then I paused. Those are all things that I do contribute for sure, but it doesn't account for what the other person needs from me, especially to function as person in charge. I will absolutely be and do all of the things I say are my part. And figure out how to be and do what he needs added to my part. Give and take. Relationships take work. Snuggles are the easy part. 

Last profile wasn't showing. So here we go, i am looking for 2 females for poly, those who can take or not but will take pain, also 1 for domestic chores. I have a illness, so i live with my brother, so that puts most off, but you don't try, you don't get. If you can see past that, then great.

I started undergrad in 1973, a medium- sized state university, i was footing the bill & money was tight so I went to student services to see their listings for jobs. There were the usual, dining hall jobs, a few being ushers & security at some sporting events, a couple for maintanance & groundskeeping, then I saw one for art department figure model & it paid $15 an hour, unheard of in the early 1970's, I put my name & number on the list & crossed my fingers. A couple of days later there was a notice in my dorm room mailbox to call the art department offices & ask for Ms. So & So. I decided to prove I was real go-getter & drop by the office. Met with the lady, a graduate assistant, & she told me what the job entailed, Tuesday & Thursday evenings, 7-9:30 PM, nude figure drawing mostly, there may be some painting, there could be private sessions for more advanced work but that was to be negotiated with the individual, the school wasn't paying. She offered me the job, said they were hiring one male, one female but we'd never be doing the same class at the same time. I jumped at the chance as I had a strong CMNM interest at the time. More to come, watch this space.

Looking to be inspired  A mediocre Dominant tells. A good Dominant teaches.  An excellent Dominant explains, but a true Dominant will inspire.

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

My Friend sent me this to proof read for his discussion of Slave vs Submissive Women. Enjoy  There are several distinctions and differences between a submissive and a slave. I will take the term submissive first. A submissive is a person with an intense desire to serve that does so under some conditions. The conditions would typically include terms of service, length of service, which areas of the submissives' life the dominant does not get to control, what the hard and soft limits are when they play or just interact, and of course the safe word. In many ways the submissive controls play. Hard limits are activities that a dominant will not be able to indulge with the submissive. Hard limits broken would lead to the end of a scene, relationship or arrangement and a serious breach of trust. Soft limits are limits that can be broken, but only after it has been discussed with the submissive. These are things the submissive is not excited about doing, but will try if it seems to excite the dominant or causes some latent excitement and fear in the submissive as well. The safe word ends all play. The dominant has free reign as long as he or she stays within the set limits. After a scene, many submissives go back to controlling their own lives. They slip in and out of the role of submissive in most cases. They continue to make their own decisions and even in a 24/7 situation will continue to control those areas of their lives that are off limits to the dominant. A submissive submits every time a scene starts or some activity where the dominant has been given control commences. The choice is hers or his every single time the dominant requires submission. A submissive can walk away from a scene because something is not working for them and completely slip out of role whenever they feel the need to discuss something about the situation with their dominant. This does not indicate a lack of the need to submit or serve though. Now we turn to the slave - the consensual slave. The slave gives up all rights to make their own decisions, becomes the "property" of a Master or Mistress, takes on the limits of their Master or Mistress and does what is asked of them regardless of their feelings about it. Sometimes a slave will give up all rights to property of their own and will continue to work for the household, having to ask permission to use any money they earn. Slaves earn privileges and do not have rights. A slave submits once - when the collar is placed around his or her neck and when something is difficult, has to ask for help to accomplish it. Slaves are not kept in basements or locked away forever. They are strong people who have an intense desire to please another human being and now has the freedom to live that desire and not have to submit to anyone else but those chosen by their Master or Mistress. Taking on the limits of another means that slaves have to ensure that the limits of the dominant they are talking to matches theirs, as their only choice is choosing the dominant. It is responsible to make sure that the person does match them or their preferences. Can a slave be sold to another? No, most Masters or Mistresses would never do that. Remember this is consensual slavery, a 24/7 arrangement with one person fully in control and another person obeying all the commands and wishes expressed by the other because both of them want this. There is often a lot of love involved in this type of relationship as well. There are mock slave auctions that are used as fund raisers in the community, and slaves would go and serve another man or woman for the evening, but they always go back to the person they chose to be with. Can a slave end a relationship? Yes, they can petition their dominant for release and no responsible dominant would say no if nothing could be done to heal the relationship. The difference between the two does not make one better than the other. I have seen countless submissives that serve as beautifully and perfectly as some slaves do and prefer not to be called slaves because of the negative connotation to that word. I have also seen many wannabe slaves struggle until they eventually found their place as submissives. It is difficult to devote one's entire life to another person but it is also incredibly rewarding.  

I am a 48 year old transgender sissy slave.. I am from Denmark but I can relocate for the right person..  I am single, unowned, no kids, no friends, no family that will miss me, the perfect victim.. I am educated as an ITsupporter but I am unemployed at the moment.  I am looking for total and real slavery.. I am looking to be fully owned and controlled with no rights, no freedom, no escape, no hope, no mercy, becoming brainwashed, broken down, humiliated, degraded into deep slavery fearing what comes next, when is the next beating, when is the next rape, what is the next sick perverted thing done to me.. Always living in chains or in some sort of bondage, staying locked away in a pitch black cell and/or cage, maybe for weeks at a time.. I am just a worthless disgusting pig, a toy, a fuck doll, a rape victim waiting to get beat up and raped on a daily basis, violently abused, a piece of meat, a possion, property who Master can do with as he pleases.. I am a big nothing who is waiting to serve in anyway I can.. Limits are limited to dismemberment, death no pulling out teeth or nails, no broken bones, kicks to the face and try to limit fists to the face, but in the heat of the moment, shit happens..  

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is the intimate relationship I want~ The mandate of transparency means that we can be open about our flaws, work through them, and come together stronger.  We are each other’s safe space, brave space, and necessary space.  The commitment to the relationship in a long-term way makes us both more willing to dig in and make things work. We need to be motivated to figure out ways to make it work.  “Trust Junkie” – Earning Trust by being trustworthy.  I can’t demand trust unless I give him every reason to trust me. At the same time, the same is true for him. Work together always for the betterment of the relationship.  Understand that trust can be earned, and as fast, trust can be lost. You choose how or if you earn or lose trust.  Getting trust back takes a glass house, if at all.  Regular check-ins, not a time out or a break from the relationship to talk about the relationship. Make regular time to talk with each other. Note I am not saying at the person but rather with the person. Make lists to help you remember what you want to talk about.  Spend time after the check-in together. Have a meal/snack, snuggle, cuddle, touch each other, and feel the person you are so close with.           This builds positive reinforcement – closeness. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ R. Kaldara made a post and talked about similar things. I rewrote/twisted it to match my desires. Some of the wording is mine, and some is his. I give some of the credit to him. 

Above all else, I’d like my ideal M/s dynamic to be established on and occupied with love. Mutual respect is a must. W/we would foremost seek to meet each other’s needs completely in a monogamous relationship. He would be in charge, make the decisions, rules and protocols; but seek my input where appropriate and value my opinion. I would like to wear His collar (and leash when appropriate) as a reminder of O/our commitment. Shared interests, in both vanilla and kink activities, should be present. Shared values would also be helpful, in both social, religious and financial concerns. I would hope, after some time, that this type of relationship might lead to a union of marriage or long term cohabitation / commitment. Broadly, I’d like the power exchange dynamic to permeate the relationship both in and out of the bedroom 24/7, but that W/we both have our lives and lead them together and apart. I do not seek to be a “kept” slave, but I do want to know He is in control at all times. This can take the form of rules, protocols, and expectations / goals. I would expect that full discussion of limits (hard and soft) would be discussed thoroughly, and that safe words wouldn’t be necessary or allowed once trust was established. This would aid in the vast possibility of CNC activities (within the confines of the pre-established limits). I would hope He would also push my limits over time. While W/we are together, He would exert His dominance in whatever way He chooses. I would attempt to anticipate His needs, but obey His requests as made. These requests could be sexual, domestic, or kink in nature. As a masochist, it would be helpful if He were a Sadist. I want to know He is getting as much out of the impact play as I am. This Sadistic predilection would also aid in intensifying the play and intensifying the benefit W/we both receive from it. I would expect that protocols would be established to help define the power exchange dynamic. These would be different when W/we were together alone, or together in public (or with family and vanilla friends). Public protocols would be known to us, but invisible to those around us such as waiting until He takes a bite until beginning to eat, sitting on a specific side, looking for a head nod to get up from a meal, wearing an insertable while out, etc. In private, protocols might include clothing restrictions, eye contact restrictions, greeting positions, speaking, bedtime rituals, distance, etc. Protocols would also assist Him in maintaining control when W/we weren’t together. These might include communication requirements, requesting permission (i.e. to do things or go places), journaling, maturbation, bedtimes, curfews, and the like. The concept of “protect His property” would be an overarching protocol that would manifest as rules / protocols when apart, but when in doubt “protect His property”. The idea that when W/we are together, He is looking out for my best interest and safety, but when apart, that job falls to me. I would expect that He would want me to grow and better myself. He would help me establish goals and hold me accountable to reaching them. These goals could be educational, health, career, kink, etc in nature. Periodic oversight and/or establishing benchmarks would be useful in ensuring progress. Punishment or negative reinforcement would need to be outlined so expectations are clear. I always strive to be the “good girl”, however, I would expect punishment if deserved. While I wouldn’t never fail or disobey to get a punishment, I would need to believe that followthrough on punishment would be made if I deserved it. Punishment would be warranted when protocols were broken or if progress toward goals hadn’t been met. I realize that punishment is hard to define for a masochist, but not impossible.

Polite heads up to anyone I engage with. I am a real person, with real honest values, with a real job in the public sector. I hop on in the middle of the night but during work time frame you will never see me on here. I actually enjoy serving the community but my goal was to find like minded individuals to have an open relationship. Open to me means we are single and not married and freely respecting our bodies and choices (can't be done when your married your disrespecting your wife and kids, you got problems at home pay for your wifes gym membership and have that honest chat to turn things around don't come to me). I don't entertain time wasters. I do expect the men I engage with to be employed, be in good job, be generous. No I am not trying to con you, nor get your bank balance, I am not entertaining another bad experience where I discover on multiple dates I am the only one paying the bill and a 5 day date cost me £400 because the other person was a cheapskate. I am independent, I am generous but I am no longer entertaining time wasters. Other than that have a nice day.   C

I had a conversation yesterday that reminded me why I don’t rush access. Every so often, someone comes along who understands the difference between fantasy… and function. He didn’t come in with noise, exaggeration, or empty declarations. He understood something much more important, how to exist in both worlds without conflict. That’s rare. Because the truth is, this isn’t about cosplay. It’s not about acting out power or performing submission in isolated moments. It’s about integration. Taking what exists in this space, structure, direction, awareness, and applying it to real life in a way that actually works. Where it builds something. Where it creates value. Where it makes both people stronger, not dependent. That’s what most miss. A real dynamic doesn’t remove you from reality, it refines how you move within it. And a true leader doesn’t just command… she guides. She shapes. She diraspects with intention so that what stands beside her is not just devoted, but useful, capable, and aligned. That’s where something meaningful begins. Not in fantasy. But in what you can sustain. I think i'll keep him — Mistress Nikki Vixen aka Goddess

Things have changed yet AGAIN! My father has declined to the point , that he is afraid to move  in with me.  I structured my whole life around this. Closed my business, left my condo, friends, clients, swing dance community, and support network, plus my Sir.   I didn't pick this place for job opportunities,  I was going to care for my father until the end.  He backed out of coming twice and then let it slip that they, my niece, her failing husband and my father were moving 15 hours away!  I may never see him again!   My world has turned upside down.   Now I'm scrambling to get reciprocity for my license, sending out reaumes, and praying to secure employment. Starting over yet again. The one good thing out of this, is the bathroom in the cottage, is completely renovated.  It is stunning , just gorgeous! Porcelain tiled shower , elegant grab bars, not clinical looking at all, all metal shower fixtures, top quality, new toilet, new sink, beautiful oval mirror and lights.  When renovating, when the wall was stripped down, we even found a window!  I prepped the bedroom, learned to skim coat, scraped  sanded, and primed it. I found gorgeous furniture for the parlor, a large couch, chair and a half and a darling tiny gingham print wing chair. A gas operated cast iron stove  stove is in place and hooked up. Now I need to finish the kitchen.  I stripped the wall paper boarders, several of them. Then came across a metal seam! Uuuugh!  Put one layer of skim coating and need to sand that down. Another one or two more coats , then I sand and paint.   At this point I haven't decided whether I'll do my esthetic business or a small daycare out of the cottage.  Either way, I need a part time job before I decide, and complete it. I landscaped the front of it, and it looks darling.   The covered screenedin front porch has two Amish gliders. I saw my dad in those, rocking outside , safe and comfortable. Siiiiigh. Anyhoo, I need to push forward, live in the now for a bit.   My Sir has been out , and his next time is on my birthday. Hopefully all will go smoothly this time. Last time work took two of our days together 💩💩. Miss him being around the corner. I can't believe it's been over two years!    

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

Instead of updating the profile and having it be down for months, I am using the journal to note changes.  I have collared a slave and it is serving in My home 24/7/365 I continue to train and develop other slaves that need experience serving, learning protocols, developing pain tolerence or just want to provide pleasure to a Master I am also looking for a second slave for a poly household. Mine is a Leather Family and I have many friends in the world Leather community. I have a process for evaluating a slave for ownership, if there is interest I can explain further. The new Dungeon Barn has finally been built. This 3 level dungeon is an all season timber frame barn built on a stone foundation. The interior is being finished and then equipment installed. Completion scheduled for winter 2021. Summer months We/we reside at our camp. Cothing optional, men only, with a complete dungeon there as well

These writings are my thoughts. They're neither right or wrong simply what I think and feel. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions; Submission evolves just like everything else. However, we fundamentally stay the same. We have that deep need, want, desire to serve.  I believe a Dominant will build a submissives confidence. He will build her up and show her how strong she is because He is confident in His Own Dominance.  Anyone can Own a doormat. Not everyone is capable of Owning a strong minded, confident woman.  Ultimately the submissive doesn't have to bow down to every Tom, Dick or Harry just because they call themselves a Dom. You do not have to address them as sir or master or any other title. Submission should be earned through Mutual Respect, Trust and Honesty.  Like any relationship it takes time to get to know each other. The deeper the bond the deeper the submission. I do think as a submissive we should try to conduct ourselves respectfull. When lucky enough to be Owned we need to be mindful that we are a reflection on our Owners.  Before a submissive is Owned they hold their power in their hands. They owe it to themselves to be strong and ask questions. Remember when you submit you are putting your life in that persons hands. Do you both want the same things?  Yes of course you want to be led out of your comfort zone but, you want to be as safe as possible.  Always remember to have a safety call set up when you meet someone for the very first time. Listen to your gut. If something feels off then trust that feeling. Don't feel pressured into accepting things that don't sit right with you.  Most of all enjoy this beautiful lifestyle and stay happy and safe 👌🏻

You are a set apart,State of the art,Work of art.That is written into my birth chart,To be your sexpot.To bask in your sunspotAnd become empty like a brain fart.To exist as your pleasurebot;Drive your applecartInto my fertile seedplot.Every single body partIs tailored to be your playspot.I yearn for your cum shotInto my honey pot,And for the squeeze of a slipknotThat will sting like Cupid's dartAnd for the most important partTo be unto you a decadent slave heart. ~dirtydarling

The Matron   Some parts of this story are true and actually took place. Many parts have been added to dramatise a fantasy.   Real names have been changed to protect identity.   After arriving in this country (U.K) in the late 70’s, I found a part time job at a large nursing home in West Sussex.   I had just turned 18 and I was extremely naive due to my upbringing and not at all experience in the matters of opposite sex.   I was employed as a handyman, there were two other handyman there, who were in their late sixties.   After a few months of working there, I got to know most of the staff.    Wendy, who worked in the kitchen, asked me if I could look at the cooker switch as the element was not heating up.   

 ozrubbergimp