Let’s stir it up: if pegging the untimate submissive or just kinky play Do you think it’s:• A way to explore masculinity in a new light?• A form of psychological and physical domination?• Just hot ass play and we’re all overthinking it?• Still too taboo for most men to admit they want? For those who get pegged…What really goes through your mind when she straps in and tells you to present yourself? For the the curious guys…What’s stopping you from trying it (or asking for it)? Let’s hear it — the messy truths, the bold takes, the confessions, the horror stories.Is pegging overrated? Underrated? Or secretly the gateway drug to the best sex you’ve never had

I am not looking for someone that wants to alter their anatomy! I am not looking for a cuckold!  I am very much aware that even submissive men and slaves have desires! If any of the above applies to you, I wish you the best in your search!!

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

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

This is really difficult. And I don't mean being cute or pretty. I'm talking about trying to find somebody. I mean I kind of wanted a female, a woman, but I'm realizing, what would a woman want to do with me? I mean, unless she saw our relationship as some kind of lesbian relationship. But then why invest the time with me? Just get a woman. It isn't like I've been cuckhold now I'm just watching my last relationship have sex with men and we go and get our hair done together. That's a silly dumb fantasy. I don't really expect that ever. So it becomes kind of complicated. Being with a guy, I've been there. It never really works out. Most guys really have no idea. And I don't mean that in a mean way. And yes I've tried, thinking OK I'll be with a guy he can just go be a guy I'll be the girl I'll take care of everything that I need to to be cute and pretty. But oddly enough, it never seems to work out that way. I am submissive and really truly just want to explore more of a relationship as a submissive and feminine. I've done all the hard work myself. I am on estrogen and other feminizing pharmaceuticals. I've actually been surgically castrated, yes, have no balls. But yet I still can't find someone. And yet I still also feel more male than female. Is there really a woman out there that actually enjoys the art of emasculation? And also possibly feminization. I remember a long time ago I was at a bar out here in California, called the Oxwood Inn (I think that was it) and I saw a cute couple. a black woman, clearly the dominant, and a effeminate partner. I started a conversation with her, the dominant, basically asking about their relationship, and if she was together with her. I was quickly explained that yes, they do live together. She was working to turn him into a her in every way. This honestly fascinated me so much so that I still kind of looking for that same relationship. Now I'm sure there are men out there that might be able to do this? I've even gone so far as wondered if possibly I could pay somebody. Make some sort of long-term agreement because I'm sure this isn't gonna happen in a month or three months I would venture to say for complete transition, it's got to be at least a year? But then again what do I know? 

"So into you" or why ob- ject -ification is not as flattering as some guys think it is The subject today will be centered around ob- ject -ification, and how lack of the right actions is getting in the way of what you want. Recently my day was spent prepping for Mom spending the night, which mostly meant me continuing to organize, clean and just generally improving the space in my sewing room, (the only real spare room) which has a futon, and most importantly, DOORS, so she can have privacy and quiet from my cats. Now, being ADD, I work better with music and company, so I put music on that she and I can both enjoy- a Pandora station based on the Doobie Brothers I started just for her. And being who I am, I tend to listen to lyrics, and then often find myself analyzing them. Usually, I'm specifically analyzing the relationship failings described in them. It doesn't always stop me enjoying the music, but sometimes I recognize the stalkery mindsets that filled our airwaves when I was young and impressionable. As were the guys who were listening. It's not surprising that we all grew up thinking these kinds of unhealthy behaviors and expectations were normal, and even romantic. Songs like Boston's "Let me take you home tonight," where a guy is explaining to a woman he's never actually met before that he's basically been stalking her and built a strong fantasy and expectations about who she is, and now he feels that she should absolutely feel both flattered, and obligated to have sex with him. "You must understand this, I've watched you for so long, that I feel I've known you, I know it can't be wrong," and goes on to say "I'm dreamin of your sweet love tonight, let me take you home tonight." So… he's been watching her for a long time without talking to her, decided who she was without ever having a single conversation, and, of course, imagining sex with her. A lot. And he tells her so, over and over and over. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing because I want it. Because that's always what is really going on there. Always the focus and end focus. Nah... that's not creepy AT ALL. Geesh. Today, it was "So Into You" by Atlanta Rhythm Section. Different band, different song, same thought process - I saw you, I was attracted, I've decided who you must be, and I can't think about anything except sex with you - only this time, they seem to want to make it her fault. Now, at first, what struck me was "could not catch your eyes" and "stand here helplessly hoping you get into me." Which just makes me ask 'What did he actually try?' I end up envisioning Toothless in How to Train Your Dragon 2, dancing around like a lunatic and freaking out the of his affections. Let's hope it wasn't like that. But honestly, it sounds like he really didn't try much. He admits that he's 'standing helplessly' rather than walking across the room and saying hello. Which sounds a lot like complaints I've heard from guys before. "I don't know how to talk to women" and that's where it ends, rather than trying to solve that. I mean, there are classes, there are workshops, there is therapy, etc. There are options. Why would someone not even try to fix the thing that keeps them from finding companionship if they are stating that they want it? Passive is not a good look. Or as has been said "faint heart ne'er won fair lady." Unfortunately, the closer we look at the lyrics, the creepier it gets. All this woman did was walk into a room. Suddenly, he's obsessed. He "can't think of nothing else." He says "Love the things you do" when so far, all she's done so far was exist in the same room. She's "driving him crazy," "thinking about how it's going to be" and he's "Gonna love her all over, over and over." So he's not really thinking about getting to KNOW her. He's focused on this fantasy he has of who she is, and what he wants to do to her. She's a beautiful woman. But somehow, she's not really a person. I mean, he's impressed by her, and he wants something from her. But not enough to make the effort to interact with her as human being. So he's "helpless" and "driven crazy" and "captured" but is just standing around "hoping." Worst part is that I really do like the song. Musically, and I like his voice, and the moody, kinda slow jazz feel to it. Shame about the message. I do get it - sometimes you see someone who just looks so cool it's hard to figure out how to approach so that they will be as impressed by you as you are by them. I was told that I'm intimidating... decades before I knew that Dominant was a thing. And the problem isn't that he thinks she's beautiful with "voodoo in the vibe." It's that he's turning that into something SHE's doing - "driving him crazy," and turning his insecurity into "helpless." And the entire thing is portrayed as flattering, and romantic, and a compliment to her. Because isn't that what women are supposed to want? For men to desire them? For her beauty to give her power somehow? For her appearance to add to her value to men? Because "The Male Gaze" is always supposed to be a woman's focus. And what a man feels when gazing is her responsibility. And anything a man might do because of that feeling when gazing at her is her fault. And that is the message. In song after song. "I saw you, I had a feeling, I have a want, I am thinking about you, I am having lots of thoughts about you, I'm having a fantacy about you, I'm deciding that the fantacy is a true representation of who you are, so now I'm building hopes, and I'm building expectations, and now I'm going to approach you , and you should share all my fantacies and fullfil the hopes and expecations rather than view me as some total stranger who's making weird sexual demands." (We won't even START discussing murder ballads. That came up recently too...) That is the message young guys get when they are first thinking about asking girls on a date. That this is how it happens. That this is normal. So when they do it, they are shocked and confused by the girl's reaction. Then again, young girls get this too, so plenty of times when a guy is inappropriate, before they've learned to be afraid of guys and their reaction to rejection, they belive they are supposed to be flattered that a guy is paying attention to them. Even if she doesn't like him, having a guy want you is important, a measure of your value as a woman. So rather than seeing a red flag for later, more aggressive poor behavior, they see it through the lens of "romance." They feel pretty and special and don't recognize healthy behavior when they see it elsewhere because this is how it happens, and what is normal. It's right up there with "he must like you if he punched you" in grade school turning into "he didnt mean it, you know he loves you" later when he beats her bloody later in life. Hell, I literally had this just yesterday. "Hello beautiful, I’ve always wanted to meet you , I love that hair , your so beautiful, I’m in (my town) until Jan 30th Love spoil you and finally get to actually meet you , I only been dreaming for years to do some sissy sessions with you " Never read a single line of my profile in all those "years." So he literally only knows that I have a nice picture. I point that out. (It's a thing for me...you may have noticed.) He responds "I know I need proper training but I know you can teach me !" Because of course, that would be my goal - to spend time and a lot of energy giving someone what they want when they couldn't spend 5 minutes reading my profile. I point out that he STILL hasn't read it, or addressed my reply, and that it was kind of insulting.  He pushed on, though - "We can go get coffee or meet at a munch or anything your up for , I’m only here to next Sunday , but after we meet and greet , I know you would always enjoy my company"  Because obviously, women enjoy men who they feel have insulted them. Especially when it's the BDSM equivalent of a one night stand.  Yes, I blocked him. He obviously wasn't going to catch a clue, even when smacked with a clue-by-four, so there was no point letting him keep messaging me until he got nasty.  He told me I was beautiful, so it automatically followed in his mind that I would immediately want to be alone, up close and personal, providing him his desired gratification, in a session with him, a total stranger, on the first meeting. And that his idea of "spoil" would be the same as mine. Or "proper training." He belived knew me, what I'd want, what I enjoy from my company, etc, without having to read a word I wrote, because he'd looked at my picture and had a feeling and built a fantasy and then expecations. And that who I was beyond my face (and hair) didn't matter.  Because I was not a person to him.  I was an object he desired... a fetish vending machine into which he felt he had put the appropriate coinage - a compliment on my looks. And he wasn't going to be desueded from that with reality or actual human interaction.  This is the world women live in. This is what "The Male Gaze" actually means. If we are attractive, we have value, but not humanity. If we are not attractive, we have no value, and are dehumanized.  You'd think men who want to be Dominated would behave at least slightly different, show at least surface respect to a Dominant Woman, but on average, they don't. And yet, right now, in several groups, there are guys going on about how hard it is to find a Mistress, by guys with the same empty profiles and dick pic avatars and tons of 'do me' groups. The same complaints, the same confusion, the same helplessness and yet the same refusal to make the efforts that would make it possible for a Dominant Woman to want to interact with them.  They are standing helplessly... hoping... being driven crazy... not understanding why we aren't "getting into" them.

I don’t know how to exist inside my own skin right now. My body hurts constantly—every joint, every nerve buzzing or burning in some private hell—and yet my emotions are stuck in this flat, gray fog. It feels like I’m floating a few feet outside of myself, detached, watching someone else limp through my days. I’m supposed to care about things, supposed to feel urgency, supposed to feel desire, but mostly I just feel… blank. A haze. The hardest part is intimacy. Sex has always been a cornerstone of my identity, something that made me feel alive, connected, real. Now I lie beside people I love, people I want to want, and it’s like my body is a locked door. My brain remembers what it’s like to crave, but the signal doesn’t make it through. Instead I get this sense of obligation—this is who you are, this is what they expect, this is what you should be doing—while my body and spirit just won’t answer. I go through motions, or avoid them, and either way I feel like a fraud. It’s disorienting: physical pain screaming from one side, emotional numbness pressing from the other. I’m caught in between, unable to move fully toward either. I don’t know how to bridge that gap, how to show up in love when I’m not even present in myself. Some nights I wonder if this is permanent. If I’ll always be half-alive like this, longing for connection in theory but unable to touch it in practice. I miss desire like an old friend I can’t remember the face of. For now, all I can do is write it here, admit it to myself. Maybe that’s a start.

  11/07/2024  Take Notice  I will be unavailable until further notice.  The noted positions have not been filled ...  For those that meet preferences and follow direction     I may or may not be checking in periodically.   

As promised, here is a copy of your BDSMTest result with ID uZkZThzx100% Degradee100% Rope bunny100% Submissive99% Voyeur93% Exhibitionist92% Pet92% Slave85% Masochist80% Experimentalist70% Primal (Prey)59% Non-monogamist30% Vanilla9% Brat4% Primal (Hunter)0% Daddy/Mommy0% Rigger0% Ageplayer0% Brat tamer0% Degrader0% Dominant0% Little0% Master/Mistress0% Owner0% Sadist0% SwitchYou can also view it online at https://bdsmtest.org/r/uZkZThzx?lang=EN

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

Chickens and eggs, carts before horsesBigSigh .. 1st visit, Excellent.  2nd, smh .. Idk which was more detrimental,The combo of miscommunication and misrepresentationor My own error in not insisting on sticking to My original plan anywayBut was led to believe it would be integrated ..  however, wasnt .Then today a previously hidden but suspected piece of the puzzle was revealed, and now the whole pictures clearer, but lost much of its allure.. Shame, bc the issues wouldnt have been issues if theyd just been discussed, and or handled better. Wish it all had been .. ah well.. smh .. hindsight sux Only bright side Im capable of coming up with atm is; they keep weeding themselves out quick as spit 

There is a movement coming in the world soon. The false Messiah is coming and will be celebrated as the real deal. This will cause anxiety in many Christians because they will be targeted and even some will lose their life because of it. Still some will have to leave everything behind and be isolated with God in the wilderness, leaning on God for guidance to survive the time and be part of the remnant. God will call you into action when it is time. There will be renewal for God's children even if you lose your life. He has a purpose and he will bring things back to how they were meant to be. Please don't throw away your confidence in God whether in sickness or health, in life or death, in the good times or the struggles. Keep the gospel commandments as best you can. He knows your heart. And when it comes do not take the mark of the beast when they offer it. Lay your life down for Jesus. Anyone who saves their life will lose it and those who lose their life for Jesus will be given life and life abundantly like he promised. In his Father's house are many MANSIONS if it were not so he would not have told you. He will prepare a place for you. Just choose him please. 

PSA!!! Misogyny and topping from the bottom is alive and well on Collarspace!  The faux wannabe’s start out nice, but within a few words that are contradictory to who they profess to be, they reveal who they are.   They go from so nice, to blocking you after you’ve called them out on their inconsistancies.   These people make it difficult for the men with true hearts, irregardless as to which power dynamic category they self identify as. They take up so much undeserved oxygen.   The most recent exchange went like this.   Unnamed User   greetings Goddess! have You ever been to new york in usa? im 55 single male sub. im eager to serve and worship You. please consider me.

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. 

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

MY TRAINING PROGRAM ## What do I expect? These are some but not all qualities of what I would want in an ideal sissy sub or owned bimbo sub wife: A genuine desire to be molded into the perfect bimbo wife, both in dress, manner, and servitude to her Master/Owner. - A pliable mind that is open to direction, training, behavior modification, and    suggestion. - A subservient attitude marked by a willingness to accept orders and commands. - Her primary goal in life is to be the perfect bimbo wife existing solely to please the    man who owns her. She is incomplete until she is owned and wholly possessed by a    Dominant man: her body, mind, heart, and soul belong to him.  - At home, she is the perfect subservient wife. In public, she is a bimbo beauty who is    proud to be shown off as she walks arm-in-arm with her Master. She has the ability   and willingness to perform domestic chores at home, regardless of how menial the    task is. - Openness to sexual service, whether provided orally or anally. Her mouth and ass    belong to her Owner, and he uses them whenever and however he wishes. She only    has sex with her Master unless he diraspects her to have sex with others who he    chooses.  - Her sexual service is never withheld and is available 24/7. She will sexually satisfy    her Owner at all times, as well as anyone he diraspects her to sexually satisfy.   She thrives in knowing that she is a wanton sexual slut and always strives to honor    her Master when servicing his friends.  - Willingness to have her limits tested and expanded, always with the goal of pleasing    her Master, however, he chooses to use her. Openness to whatever kink her Master    desires to explore with her, knowing that he will always keep her well-being and    physical safety in mind. Accepts whatever devices or natural s her Owner    inserts in her ass, whether at home or when out in public.    This can be anything from butt plugs to secured dildos to an anal hook. When she    purposefully breaks one of his rules, she may have a shaved ginger root in her ass    for an hour or two or be given a huge enema which she will be forced to hold in with    the aid of an inflatable butt plug. - Will be pierced in her nipples and elsewhere if her Owner wishes. - After one year of being owned and having performed faithfully to her Master's&n

I want to be a sissy house wife, something like a 1950's household but maybe the clothes might be updated, but the dresses are really cute, or domestic discipline, 24/7 TPE I believe in a male dominant house, a gurl should be a slave/servant to her man/master/daddy. Her mind should be on how to please him and care for his needs, her pleasure coming from being in his service. I want to serve a man domesticly, it is the job of a sissy housewife to keep the house how her master/daddy wants it. I also believe a gurl is a slave to her man/daddy/master. He should pick out her clothes for the day, give her a list of chores he wants completed, and train her on how he wants her to be, rewarding her for good behavior and punishment for bad behavior. A gurl should wake up somewhat earlier than her daddy/man/master. She should shower, shave and clean here before making him coffee/breakfast. She should be completely naked accept for her collar and cuffs, and wake him up with a blowjob. After swallowing his gift, she needs to prepare to be his urinal and swallow his pee. After this, she should help him shower if he wants, or wait in the bedroom on her knees for him to get done. Once done, he will pick out what she wears and she will put it on before serving him breakfast, blowing him if he wants it. She will see him off as he leaves the house and then complete the housework. She should then greet him on her knees as he comes home, at that time she should perform any tasks he commands before he inspaspects the house and punishes for anything not done or not done properly. Dinner should be prepared for him and served to him. At night, she should perform all tasks he gives her before bed. Her body and mind is her gift to him and she gladly gives it to him, this means he uses and trains her as he wants. Pain or pleasure, a good sissy housewife accepts both eagerly and enjoyment. I hope I find my man someday.

SO,YES.I AM TOO MUCH. YOU ARE HERE TO CATER TO MY DESIRES.NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND,ACCEPT IT OR MOVE ON.JUST LET ME KNOW.

I have a confession. I met an odd Greek guy from this site. I dumped him or he let me down and I did not take his offer to remain friends. First date he was amazing was in shock how real he was. Crashing around mine he was ok in bed but snored and really snored. Had a fantasticallly large cock and I am annoyed I did not tie him up. His cock felt, warm and pulsating and I felt fulfilled and I remember tilting my neck back and relasing hot breathing after every grind. I just recall being in sexual purgatory, being dominant but enjoying anal domination, I think the Switchy side allowed the moment to happen. He was reckless with condoms which is why I felt in the bin with him. But now and again I wish he had now NOT cocked up because I would be probably be typing my odd sexual experimental ecounters with him. I liked him, I really liked him but I was so hurt that he was reckless with protection. Not to mention AFTER sex he mentioned his trip to Africa - I am west indian Carribean and all I kept thinking is have you lost your mind you experiement in a country with a high level of minimal medicla support are you insane.  My mind spun, realising this sexy Greek guy with self- esteem issues parading as a switch on collar space may be a high risk individual who should go to the first GUM he can find. I work in a clinical setting and assist HIV patients so this is a big NO NO. I meet every day people who have trusted the wrong person, or have congential issues so passed on from familly or met people who have fallen on real hard times and the world has honestly chewed them up and spat them out and the whole reckless with condoms hit a large nerve. Now and again I reflect on how I enjoyed the snogging, I enjoyed being sexually open and it drives me a little loopy our chapter lasted 2 encounters. Omg, his tongue in on my clit, his tongue in my mouth, his tonue on my arse hole his tongue on my legs and thighs, his tongue on my nipples, his tongue on my belly button, his tongue on my neck - Fuck me! I am also still pissed he brought Alidi food and demanded I buy him steak the little shit but I honestly did like his good side just not his entitled side. Do people really deserve a second chance. He is probably just messaging other women and finding his way into their accommdation for a free overnight stay he is Greek after all. I actually liked him, annoyed by his snoring.  Honestly his snoring was bad if the Walking Dead actually happens he would have to go for survival, his snoring was that bad.  The Walking dead will hear him a mile away.  Honestlly you would have put a pillow over his face to save yourself from the zombies it was that bad. It annoys me while I feel weak I have this back flash of remembering how his tongue felt all over me and remembering the sounds of his moaning and remembering how silky his hair felt when I pulled on it during a climax. Weird, Weird, weird - maybe I will admit defeat I have lost the plot!

a nite out w/my Dom&Domme Tonite was to be my cumming out. i dressed in my simple black dress & w/Your help my garter belt, cheeks-hi fashion black stockings & peep toe heels that framed my shiny fluorescent pink nails. Sir, bent me over, slapping my cheeks made me spread them inserting a jeweled butt plug. Bent over my balls were hanging low. Taking advantage of that You forced them thru several rings adding  weight. Then pulling my clit back separated each into two enormous labia. When i stood straight You were holding  pink thong which i slipped into. Pulling it high on my hips it seated the butt plug so it would tickle my G-spot with every step +  making a huge, Camel's foot obvious. i donned my blonde wig,  blondes do have more fun, You added my pink collar + Rainbow leash & w/one of You on each arm off we go to a local LBGTQ bar. i was most anxious entering the crowded bar, buTT You lifting my hem striped my butt with Your crop teling me to strut like ths slut i am. So i made it to a stool, hiked up my dress to sit & ordered Your drinks. The sexy barkeep with a wink asked mine & You told her, "she'll have a CD Cocktail" soon enuf, L0l! Sure enuf we'd attracted attention. to be Continued? 

      Only locals Im not investing in anyone long distance. No requests, inquiries, small talk. No coffee-low effort meet ups. Stay with your loved ones if you believe anyone here deserves crumbs of your effort to validate the "potential " of your existence.  "How can you make My life better?" Isn't something I am ashamed to ask, request and demand. Slaves and subs expect energy,time,  attention, training, be allowed in My presence and into My world since most are so god damn broke to have their finances or life together.  I pity the Women in your life if your only form of sacrifice and servitude is a humiliation to you to clean or serve domestically- that is the basic, most bare minimum thing you do In your own lives- no depth, no recent photo of yourselve, no negotiating "if it works" -wtf- it's if you fit into My life, add value to it, enhance and make it better. that is the goal. Not how I make yours better since it will by Me simply being in it. That sort of knowledge of who I am in this lifestyle isnt bragging and no, I am not ashamed to put Myself first- this is why I only have energy to focus on successful masculine men( power exchange isn't an exchange if there's no POWER) most subs and slaves here are so god damn selfish. who seek to be applauded and recognixed for small low effort gestures that only benefit them.  tips: Read journals interests and profile before sending messages.you will not be for everyone. Not everyone will be for you. If they have blank page, move on.  Learn more about yourself and who you are in this lifestyle. The foundation in knowing who you are and what’s your purpose and goal will help you find the right person.  If you're a sub or a slave- Is not about you. It’s what you can do for Me/dominants. Hire a pro if you approach with an specific fantas, demand, requirement. Do not submit to just anyone, it can be dangerous for you and the other person- don’t be in a rush.      Nothing personal if I don't message back to everyone, or block you, but I’ve trained and get invested in people over the years- their lives. Someone new that right out of the bat says they are new and don’t even have much; money, time, energy, focus… for Me- doesn’t interest Me. I am very interested in POWER EXCHANGE. No power? you don't have My interest. I am interested in My well being, My stability, all I have attained and accomplished in My professional, businesses and personal life. and I care far too much and get invested way too much with subs and slaves for those who are too comfortable or seek banal superficial connection or a fantasy sexual release.   

A Raven and a Wolf   He sat, kneeling really, slowly panting, under a soft leather hood. It was laced tightly, almost preventing his every breath. And in the darkness, under the hood, he strained his ears to hear whether she was near, or far. He inhaled, trying to find her scent, but could only smell the leather of the hood. He tried to feel if he could sense her presence closer, but nothing. The air was still. His mouth, dry from nerves, with lips slightly agape, didn't utter a sound.   So he waited, arms bound, shoulder back, chest forward and exposed. Uncomfortably upright.    She sat before him, watching him lazily, like how a cat does with a weakened mouse, very still. A hunter and their prey. She was breathing evenly to hide the excitement pooling inside of her. Hands encased in buttery soft lamb skin gloves, the color of his hood, the color of her whip, the color of blood. The color of her lips. A red so beautiful. Her eyes sparkled at the idea of it coming from his body. Beautiful and broken. She could sense he was searching for her; a slight turn of the head, listening, perhap? Leaning forward gently; trying to smell? Like a dog, she thought, just like a dog. And she sat there far longer than even she desired to see how far this "dog" would go.    "Bark, dog" she commanded in a low voice  And he barked immediately, no hesitation. She pulled back her hand and slapped him, his head jerked, body lurched, chest rising and falling rapidly. A noticeable difference between his legs. There it was again, a hunger to bite into him. Taste his blood. Consume him. But only silence. No whimper, no moan, not a sound escaped him. She wondered if he were bleeding from his cute little mouth. Again she slapped him. Softer than the first, a loving caress, bits of his hair peeked through the laces of the hood and she wanted to grip them and tear them away. Would he let her? Perhaps.    The next slap, and the one after, opposite hand, and he fell forward just enough that his face touched her thighs only separated by the hood and her own stockings. The rule was he wasn't allowed to touch her unless she said. This was a broken rule, however accidental. She stood and let him slump forward in a stupor, supported only by the tension of the rope tied to the foot of the bed.   Bark, dog. Dog. He barked.  Up, dog, and he returned to his previous place, exposed and upright. She stepped forward, the toe of her shoe pressing down on the sensitive flesh of the head of his dick. She crushed it gently until he sat even straighter. She held his head in her left hand, caressed it gently, leather on leather. The smell intoxicating her. Raising her right hand she slapped him again, over and over until her hand grew hot even under the glove. Was he bleeding? She hoped so. She hoped to kiss him and bite his lips and taste his blood. She wished she could see his eyes, dazed, glassy, far away. She caressed his head. And whispered, "you may touch me" and he pressed his face into her hands, her thighs. Still no sound, he was so silent.   "Bark, my handsome boy" and he barked, hoarse and painful as she encircled his neck with her hands. This was his idea, he had inspired in her a lust for choking him until he was nothing and drifting away in the ether. She squeezed, her hands perhaps too small, until he gurgled. She wondered if his eyes were open or if they were dimmed. The hood obscured so much. She squeezed until he seemed to go limp. And she let him. Shoulders yanked uncomfortably under his weight.    He awoke. Arms aching, face hot but no longer enclosed by the hood. He could see her though his vision lacked acuity. She was standing over him, wrapped in pink except for gloves. He yearned for them then. Yearned for them to be around his neck, feeling the bones of her fingers threatening his very life. He wanted to ask for it, for her to choke him, strangle him, but knew it was to her whim that he obeyed. Obeisance was her pleasure. He looked at her, eyes soft, left cheek swollen, lips split ever so slightly and she leaned down and kissed him, sliding her tongue over the drying blood. He kissed her back, gentle, but hungry.    Her kiss was soft but grew more passionate until she bit him and suckled his mouth. Did he love this part of her? The softness before the sting.  She broke the kiss. Her lipstick perfect but her mouth and chin stained crimson with what must have been his blood. "Open your mouth, I'd like to try" she said softly. A shy whisper. So unlike the command to "Bark".  He angled himself upright, head back, lips parting painfully like a little bird. She leaned forward and let her own saliva pool in her mouth and slowly let it fall into his. He shuddered. His excitement excited her and she kissed him again before he could even swallow but this time it was wild and wet. Her saliva all over his mouth, chin, cheeks.    "I have to whip you now, are you ready?" She asked and he nodded. A question was not a command to speak. Dogs do not speak unless commanded to speak. She untied him and his body fell forward. Not used to its old range of motion. His limbs buzzed from having sat in one position for too long. He wondered about how much time had passed. Funny thing, time. Why did it matter now when he was in the moment with her.   Without the hood he realized he could smell her. A warm sweet scent, perhaps arousal. And he thought then about being forced to please her like they talked about in passing, forced until exhausted and even beyond. After play. Her, in her pink, looked like candy and he wanted to lick her. She must be sweet.      She looked down at him and his face was peculiar, his mind was somewhere else and he looked rather cute. But she was jealous at the idea that his mind wasn't on her and she kicked him in the stomach to bring him back to her. He coughed and curled up as she walked to retrieve her whip, preparing for the next step in her courtship.  "Up" she commanded and he got to his feet, winded, bruised. Arms still behind his back. She released them to tie them around the post of the bed. The bed post being the whipping post, isn't it somehow romantic, she thought.    "If you need me to stop, tell me, I won't be gentle otherwise" she said to him, her mouth on his ear. His hair was slicked down with sweat and he smelled musky. She liked his smell. She bit his earlobe and stepped back a couple of feet and threw the whip. Lash after lash until he tried moving away. Pulling at the post until it creaked. She wanted him to cry but he only moaned and groaned, no tears. Just a brow drenched in sweat as his back went from fine pink lines to slowly oozing wounds. If he didn't give her tears then she would have blood.  He pulled desperately as if trying to escape her and she threw the whip furiously, lashing whatever she could reach, his ass, thighs, calves, neck, even the back of his head. The post groaned as if it would break under the strength of him trying to flee.   "Do you want to get away from me?" She asked. His breathing heavy, labored, his body wobbled as blood poured from him, he shook his head no, weakly, and looked over his weeping shoulders with hazy eyes. Finally he spoke, a clear and clean "No, ma'am" from his lips now dry from mouth breathing, swollen from having been bitten and slapped.   The no rang through her body and she leapt at him and kissed and licked his mouth, his shoulders, his back. Barely containing her arousal, her hips moving in slow circles. She was so hungry.&n

One of the first things parents teach their toddlers is that 'I want, doesn't get'. We can't have everything in this world - and we certainly shouldn't expect things to fall into our laps just because we ask for them. But perhaps the point is more about the way that we ask. After all, if you don't ask for things, why would anyone give you anything? Of course, you have to prove yourself worthy. But it's important to be clear, so that other people are able to engage fully and clearly with our goals. On that note ,although we learn, when we're young, not to voice all our thoughts, I am  someone who's prepared to take risks when it comes to sharing ideas; I  don't suppress my feelings or opinions for the sake of polite pretence. I like being with people i  can be honest and open with.

I'm almost certainly going to regret writing this, but it's come up a couple times now with potential play partners and maybe this will save me some time in the future. First: I'm a libertarian. What does this mean? The shortest definition I've been able to find is "I believe gay married couples should be able to defend their pot plants with machine guns." I also believe if government is the answer, the question was a smorgasbord of banality and despair. For those of you who know me, know what I do, and what I've done, you know I've found myself having to deal with confrontations from time to time. I don't want to hype this because I know there are plenty of you who've had to go much further into the quicksand of defusing conflict than I have, and are better at it. However, I have learned some things along the way. Most importantly, everything I've gotten from training and experience is that the way you produce positive change with people you disagree with is to look for the things you have in common and build on them. I don't care if it's a mutual hatred of Brussels Sprouts, it's a starting point. You may never get to a point where you like the other person (and that's fine), but in finding that common ground you're at least likely to walk away acknowledging your common humanity and not hating them. If you're seeking out the things you conflict on and using them as a justification for not engaging (or worse, starting a fight), you truly are part of the problem. No one is going to share your political beliefs down to the finest detail, and if you're dogmatic about it (right or left), you're going to find yourself alone. The really sad thing about this is that I promise you your political beliefs are the least interesting and most tedious part of who you are. People who live and breathe politics are like people who obsess over cars. I don't want to have an in-depth discussion with anyone on "the violence inherent in the system" or the great new exhaust note your car makes with straight pipes you put on. Lets see if we can find something interesting to talk about instead. This is a kink community. Your interest in bondage or S&M or your new latex catsuit is a much more intriguing conversation than how culpable the president is for gas prices.

Okay. Okay. I need to get some things off of my chest. Now that I have had some conversations, met a few people, I just want to say that I have standards and I would want my Dom to also be a person of standards. What do I mean by that? I make the effort to always be clean, smelling nice, looking pretty, etc. The bare minimum should be that my Dom takes some care of himself. I like when a man has taken the time to get a haircut,I like it when I can smell cologne on your skin, and after 11 years of trying to change a person, I realized that I indeed changed. We didn't want the same things and I got so tired of trying to convince someone to take care of themselveswhen I'm a fucking mess myself. Like, I need, absolutely crave Daddy but I haven't found him yet. If you're serious about something 24/7 and this is not strictly a kink for you, we might have some things in common. I've noticed some red flags one is that the people I was communicating with, they always want to be called Daddy and like, no. You're not my Dom, I don't know you like that, things take time to develop. Also, if you're weird, Do not bother. For example, I'm not into pantyhose and for one person, that was a deal breaker. Good. Keep that shit away from me. I'm trying to find my perfect match on every level. Also, I don't want your money, I have my own. It might not be a lot but I am not interested in any weird financial stuff. I'm trying to get my shit together in the real world. And all I want is Daddy. I don't think anyone understands how fucking primal that urge has become for me. But please don't come on too strong. Give me time. I'm thinking about a normal conversation here, then on text. Then the phone. Then a video call. You see what I'm doing here? Look if things went well maybe I fly out for a fun weekend. I don't know but I'm open.

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

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

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

Journal Entry: Why Some Women Choose Slavery I have often reflected on why some women willingly choose to live as slaves in a Master/slave household. To outsiders, it may appear confusing—why would anyone want to surrender control of their own life? But when viewed through the lens of trust, devotion, and purpose, the answers reveal themselves clearly. For many women, there is a deep longing to be free from the constant burden of decision-making and responsibility that the modern world demands. In slavery, there is clarity. A slave’s role is defined, her place is secure, and her purpose is to serve. This surrender of control is not weakness—it is a relief. In letting go, she discovers freedom from doubt and hesitation, and in service, she finds strength and fulfillment. There is also the matter of intimacy. When a woman gives herself fully, she allows herself to be seen in her most vulnerable and honest state. No masks. No pretenses. In that surrender, bonds are formed that are deeper than most will ever know. To be owned is to be cherished, and for many women, the knowledge that their Master claims them as His gives them a sense of belonging they have always sought. Growth comes, too, from the challenges of slavery. The training, the discipline, the demands of service—all of these shape her into something stronger. She learns to endure, to obey, to strive for excellence. In pleasing her Master, she also proves something to herself: that she is capable of devotion, of transformation, of becoming more than she thought she could be. And perhaps the greatest reward is devotion itself. To give one’s life, heart, and soul to another, without reservation, brings a sense of completeness. Some women long to dedicate themselves fully, and in slavery they find the purest expression of loyalty and love. Their submission is not a loss—it is the path that brings them peace. This is why some women choose slavery in a consensual M/s environment. Not because they are weak, but because they are strong enough to surrender. Not because they lack value, but because they find value in being claimed, used, and cherished. And in that, they are fulfilled.

Well, it thought it was heading back to Australia by. February. To spend about three months between. The Gold Coast, QLD. And Sydney. It was invited by another dom to spend time on his horse ranch out there, just to recover and to focus on. Where It need to be, whether the enticement might be to stay, and not go back to the US. Time can only tell. It don't see myself anywhere for some time. So trying to find my feet. So many dominants that don't understand how to really truly have a slave. It's been difficult after It lossing Rosco My PTSD service dog. And then four months under consideration to the rubber doctor. Who turned out to be? Someone that has a lot of issues. And having a lucky escape. It allowed him. To get inside it. To imprint on it. And Royally **** **** it. His clear deions  was mind **** It had a hard decision to make. Wether except the crimes that he committed. And that he was willing to commit further the atrocities. It was hard to walk away from him. Even though, as his rubber slave, he wanted to make it an accessory to his crimes and put it at risk. As a former medical surgeon. In the military. It had a moral obligation. And it own code of honor which conflicted with his to Do No Harm to those that as Surgeon we are there to heal the sick and the affirmed.

I was asked about that out of body feeling and how I delt with my desperate need to be enslaved before and after I was owned, I sincerely hope this helps the news subs slaves out thereWhat your describing when you "lose yourself" is called "subspace".   I was in a foursome with myself and three men.  Two men flogging my breasts while the third had his penis in me. As the pain increased I started to struggle and move even in bondage, The man inside me just stood there, no motion from him until the very end.   I went so deeply into subspace I could her the floggers slap my sweaty breasts and my muffled cries into my ball gag. I pulled at my restraints but not to escape, GOD how I wanted to play with my clit, my nipples burned and I was in heaven and hell at the same time.   When he started to pump into me with his cock I went almost insane. I begged and pleaded for that moment of sweet release even though I wass gagged. My tears of desperation flowing freely. He came in me and as he filled me with his cum I actually squirted. I had never squirted before.   Own who you are and be happy with that, Your period gone nuts since you have started being used? The emotions, both fear and ecstasy are doing that. It means you need to serve more often and not just on weekends or occasionally.   You can even thing out even with kids in the house. You can wear small nipple clamps in your bra when the kids are home. Same for your outer labia and panties. When you go pee diddle your clit but don't allow yourself to come. Accept the frustration and training as part of your life.   When I clean house, no kids here, I am forced to wear painful stilettos all day with clover clamps on my labia and nipples. I am not allowed to sit even once during the day so that my feet, ankles and claves get no rest, no mercy.   I am only allowed a shower once every three days but I must dry shave my armpits, legs and between my legs daily.   I am not allowed to wipe or wash after orgasm. I am required to wear my lust between my legs and on my thighs until I am told to wash up.   You can do these things to yourself and for yourself daily. Keep your sex soaked and your juices dripping and your periods will go back on schedule.   I sincerely hope that this helps   slave janet

PLEASURE MOMMY!!!   I raise my leg and pull the leash placing your face up against my mound.  You can feel the warmth as I grab the back of your head pushing your face up into my pussy.   I tell you to open your mouth so you can taste my sweet nectar.   You love that taste your nasty little slut!   While holding your leash tight I tell you to lick me slowly and then tongue fuck me till I tell you to stop!!   Moving my hips from side to side slapping you with my thick thighs........I pull you in closer   BITE ME YOU SLUT MAKE MOMMY SCREAM!!! I cum so hard I fart in your face and you never miss a lick.   I grab your chin and bend over to lick my juices off your face.   I slap your face!!   Then push your head back and straddle your face so you can continue to please me.   Finger my ass while you tongue fuck me!!!!...................WOW

thoughts from the peanut gallery  i am sure that it is the insulation of the internet that inspires such trollish behaviors but the attempts at baiting are truly pointless.  i know my true nature, and my place within a mutually gratifying Ds relationship, and my partner never has reason to question or doubt my submission to him.  that being said,  I am not particularly submissive to others,  strangers with whom I have never engaged in conversation, family who would take the opportunity to walk all over me, etc, I  am respectful to all but am not everyone's submissive.  i do live my life in service to others,  caregiving and family household management,  but again,  my most true and strongly alpha submissive personality is only visible to the one individual to whom i freely grant possession of myself to.  should you read this and think,  well she isn't really a submissive at all,  or she should be on some other site, or I'm going to tell this bitch what is really up, please move on to someone else's profile,  perhaps they are better suited to your interests.. i wish you all much luck and safety in your endeavors.   

 "£€ 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

My dom gave me a list of topics to talk about.  So here goes... Random stuff you may or may not find interesting about me:   - When asked to classify myself, I'd describe myself as a nudist who is a bit kinky.  My parents were both nudists and I grew up in a household were clothing was optional.  Around the house, being naked is no big deal...  So for example, I am naked right now... - Several people have asked me here if I've been officially "collared".  I'm going to have to say that I haven't officially been collared.  However I'm not 100% percent sure I know what exactly is involved in that.  I do have a dog collar which I wear when my dom requests it,  Since this collarspace afterall, he has requested that I wear it whenever I am here, so I am wearing it now...  My collar is a simple dog collar that we picked up one day at PetsMart... - Am I a "painslut"? No, I am not a painslut.  In no way do I like be beaten, whipped or punched...  I do like rough sex, but that generally involves being tied up, having my hair pulled, and being choked... - Am I a "gang bang slave". No, I am not.   That said, I have had fantasies about it (see my previous journal entries), but I am not interested in pursuing that.  That said, I have had sex with two guys at once.  But that was a long time ago... - Is my dom interested in sharing me with other men.  The answer to that is no.  However there is one exception.  There is a one couple that we've known for years that we feel safe with. On occasion we will swap partners with them.  - Why am I on collarspace?  I'm here because my dom wants me to be here.  That alone is reason enough enough.  He thinks it would be a good idea to have me interact with all kinds of people here.  My dom reads everything I write and everything that I recieve.  In particular, I think it amuses him to see how I interact with men who only view me as fuckmeat. So there you have it, todays journal entry from naked subMegan.  Hope everyone has a great Sunday and I look forward to reading your responses. subMeghan

Adieu Yes, maybe it is true.Yes, maybe it is true that maybe i am blue.maybe i am blue, and maybe it is because of you.You were on the venue.i took the cue, and gave what was due,but you didn't follow through.i was at your pew, face to your shoe,You left me like a whoop-de-doo;You didn't renew,You didn't rescue,my confidence in you has flew, askew.There will be no break-through,no rendezvous,no well-to-do point of view.This is World War Two, thank you,and i wont argue how bitter i stew,or how i feel a devalue inyour discontinued virtue.Because now,i see you now at face value.And now i cling to my own Bellevue -my own worldview -And i shall paint her deep blue,because yes, maybe it is true,maybe it is true that maybe i am blue,and maybe it is because of you, mind you -my dear Safeword, Adieu.~ dirtydarling

Why I don't want to have a sexual relationship with a domme... I've been here since it was called CollarMe, not Collarspace.  A long, long time.    I'm not a shlub.  I'm in reasonably good shape, take care of myself, can articulate my thoughts and treat everyone with respect.  So it's been relatively easy for me to meet dominants and I've met several over the years.  Unless it was a one-time meeting for specific scene play, every relationship I've had that started here ended up being entirely sexual in a "might as well be vanilla" fashion with no or next to no domination.   Once I sleep with you, you won't dominate me in any serious way if you ever intended to in the first place.  Or if you do, it will be "30 shades of yawn".  I have that situation going on right now with a domme I met on Fetlife.  Oh, the sex is amazing, but if I just wanted sex, I would join a dating app and I could have it every night of the week with a much wider selection of partners.   I want to be throroughly humiliated, subjugated and degraded in (as I say in my profile) some very specific ways. That's not something you're going to be able to do to me if we're having an intimate relationship.  Trust me.  Once those actions and the associated feelings are involved, you won't be capable of treating me the way I want to be treated.  I need someone who can see me for what I want to be, which is a means to an end for them.  I need someone who understands the concept of "mutually beneficial relationship" but can separate that from a sexual relationship.  What happens if your vehicle has a problem?  You take it to a mechanic.  You don't need to have a loving relationship with the mechanic to get the vehicle repaired.  You bring in the vehicle, he repairs it, you take care of him and go on with the rest of your day.  That's the extent of the relationship and it's fine.  Everyone gets what they want.  I think a lot of dominants on this site who genuinely have some hardcore dominant tendencies that delve into the sadistic side are trying to find everything in one person, and that's a shame, because it's a two way street.  Certainly not all kinks are acceptable to all people so not all dommes are compatible with all subs (and even if they were, we all have our aesthetic preferences) but for those who really want to put someone in their place, that will be better and far more thoroughly accomplished if that place isn't also in bed.  

Today is a bad pain day.  Physcially, emotionally and mentally.   i am beyond thankful i work from home and do not need to face the world, aside from a visit to my parents house this evening for dinner.  Agoraphobia can be crippling and the very thought of stepping a toe outside of my "safe zones" is enough to throw me into a panic.  With my extremely high blood pressure and resting heart rate, i need to do all i can do keep myself calm.  The last thing needed to add to the litany of issues is a stroke.   On a happy not i found an adorable notebook and metallic pens (my glitter ones died...sad) to keep track of my daily blood pressure readings, and soon to be mood and food intake.   Daddy said He is so proud that i am finally working on fixing me.  the body parts are easy.  it's the mental part that scares me.  i truly do not know if i am ready to face my damage.  i hope i find a really good therapist that doesn't mind if a stuffy or two come along on my appointments...  

I find all these profiles wanting subs for training interesting.  Do Dom’s get on here thinking all women are new to the lifestyle when they join a site like this?  They go from a totally vanilla world and think, hey, I am going to do something crazy today, despite never having had a fantasy or desire, or want, I am a blank slate and door mat, I am going to join this site and seek someone to train me to fulfill all of their desires since I have absolutely none of my own… Because let me tell you, that is totally what I was thinking the first time I joined this site, totally…  Facepalm.  Do you really think you can train someone to just service your desires?  Are people really that narcissistic?  All humans have desires and I don’t care if a relationship is D/s M/s or whatever, there are still two people in it and they are both wanting something from it… There is no training, there is learning about each other, and growing together, or ending bitterly… 

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

    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. 

For those who ask me this is the sort of Domination I enjoy and practice.  from www.cyberbazzar.com waay back in the day! The Equalitarian Dom: Is one who controls by teaching, mentoring, and leading. This Dominant knows that when he finds a comparable submissive that things will happen as a natural progression of the interaction. Usually just a short learning phase is required to receive the correct response from the submissive. Both the Dom and the sub “get it”, there is very little need for so called “training” and they naturally know what the other needs and seeks. The Dominant does not like the situation of constantly repeating and forcing a particular behavior (submission) to occur. Besides the activities (sexual and others) it is the surrender as a result of the Domination that is the enjoyment. Creativity is an important part of this situation. They tend to intellectualize and be more into the philosophical and psychological mechanisms of this life style. They understand the concepts and resultant interactions and can put it into real life. They do not need many rules like the Democratic type, nor do they like the heavy S&M activities of the Authoritarian, preferring submission to occur as a result of an instilled desire in the submissive to surrender. She “wants” to submit as a result of the Dominant’s knowledge and skill in dominating her. Sensuousness is the rule. Pain is given and received as a form of sensuous stimulation. Light pain as opposed to severe. Sensuous torture is a popular activity in this area. Both the Dominant and the submissive must naturally be this way. These are the people who will claim to be “born that way”. They fully understand the concept of D/s, it comes to them naturally and easily. They attract a submissive that truly and naturally desires to please and who will observe and sense what it is that the Dominant is communicating; and be able to translate that into the right thing to do. The “doing or saying without having to be told” type. The submissive begs easily and surrenders sweetly. They understand the concept of respect and surrender and can make it happen after initial learning with little or no additional instructions. They embrace the surrender gratefully and lovingly.   These individuals usually form very intimate relationships. There is not much downside to these relationships, because they not only gr the concepts, but can make it happen as well, and their attraction is based on a strong mutual respect. Their strong relationship is not readily apparent to the unobservant, but they are always subtly in the 24/7 mode. The fact that these things come forth naturally and without the need for orders is a great source of pride, satisfaction, and loving. They are the opposite side of the coin from the Authoritarian. Whose pride, satisfaction, and love come from strictness and forbearance.

  I read someone elses journal about how their talk turned from discussion to an interrogation.   Ouch!   I must admit I have interrogated a man or two on this site after:   a strange introduction   a strange assumption   or even just by the male being rude and thinking they still had a chance to strike their luck more like a lucky block encounter.   When someone gives you an "ick" feeling you will gear your armour and steer clear.   I do feel for genuine men who really, want a true connection, some of you men need to blame the creeps who introducted themselves before you and left the females with a need to put on their armour.   There are so many scams so many people ready to take whatever they can from people who are vaulnerable and when your willing to confess your sexual sins on a site, you are without a hesistation vaulnerable.  It can take someone, (well me) a bit of time to brush off a bad encounter (at least a good weekend).  I sadly wish I was paranoid but sadly true crime is showing some high numbers and hiding in the shadows seems to be a way of life for some.   On the brighter side for thoose of us that don't hide in either the shadow and come out during the daylight, if you don't make a connection you can sigh relief you did in fact dodge a bullet and honestly when you finally meet someone genuine your better make an effort if they are willing to let you do all the naughty things you like.   I have had a blissful weekend standing up for others in a professional enviornment and being resilient and looking at some new opportunities in another part of the UK.  I feel like Mary Poppins, I go where I am needed most.  If only Mary Poppins was a passionate black women with a sordid collection of rope and crotchless panties.

Often see these kind of statements:  “Will consider anyone who writes. Tell me what you are looking for”.  But the question i find myself asking is who is in control here, is it the Dominant or is this a case of the submissive leading from the bottom by stating what they want…….. Surely it’s the Dominants needs that are to be met and a submissive’s true need should be wanting to be controlled and Owned by a true Dominant……   Just a random thought. 

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.

There’s a pattern I see far too often—and it’s impossible to ignore. Too many men hiding behind loud opinions, inflated egos, and surface-level submission. Talking endlessly, questioning everything, yet completely lacking the one thing that actually matters: direction. And no—I don’t place that blame entirely on them. Without consistent interaction, correction, and instruction from the Dom side, many never develop the proper tone of submission. They don’t learn restraint. They don’t learn how to listen. They don’t learn how to respond with intention instead of impulse. So they remain… reactive. Over-opinionated. Frustrating. Not because they’re incapable—but because no one required more of them. Submission has a tone to it. It’s measured. It’s aware. It understands when to speak, and more importantly, when not to. It doesn’t push for control under the guise of curiosity or “connection.” And without structure, without standards, without a Dom who actually enforces both—most will never evolve past that noise. That doesn’t interest me. I’m not here for unmanaged energy or misplaced ego. I’m here for discipline. For growth. For those who are capable of refinement—and willing to be shaped by it. The difference is always obvious. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

Part 2  So we moved to a new bigger house and soon I discovered the brothers that would start me down the path that turned me into what I am today. So the brothers slightly older were loud , bold and of course very dominate. For the first few months things were normal , but soon things took a decidedly darker turn.   Things started with them hazing me at school , and the long walk from the bus stop . On the bus they didn't know me but as soon as we got off at the end of the street they would start , and when the girls that lived next to their house were there they puffed up and would show off , having me carry all the books , and taunt me.. I was just happy for the attention... and I got a lot of it from them, especially when summer vacation came from school . That's when things became intense.  At first it was fantasy role play , but  there was always some excuse to tie me to a tree or tie me and lead me through the forest that was behind our houses . Within a few weeks,  the clothes were off when I was tied, and they would leave to go home and get lunch , but always return with something for me. that I had to eat without hands. Then around the middle of that first summer the boys got a tent and set it up in the woods by the house,  far enough away to be partially hidden , and keep curious parents from dropping in.   The tent is where my training really began. From simple ties.  To elaborate  ties , to whipping with branches , to inserting things in me , the summer flew by and I finally felt I belonged , I felt the brothers cared for me , and wanted me , and I wanted to please , I ed to nothing for fear I would again be alone if I did. I remember feeling it was wrong somehow, but I didn't care , I was wanted, and that was all that matter. As things continued to progress they seemed to take good of their roles and the pain became more intense as the whipping increased in both duration and force . The  s I was to take and hold inside became bigger. One day one brother had me tied over a stool  in the tent and was working a candle in me. After he had covered me with the hot wax  from the same candle. when the other brother came over pulled my hair to raise my head and stuck his crotch in my face I could feel his hard cock under the jeans as he rubbed across my face.. I moaned and bucked forward as the candle went deep , and I was pushed into those jeans ,I could feel the heat , and the dampness from his precum. That was to much I guess and before I knew it his pants were off and his hard cock was pushing against my lips I felt a sharp pain as a paddle came down hard on my ass,  and I opened my mouth to protest and it was immediately filled with a hard  cock.  It made me gag and my eyes tearup , but it felt good and he was holding my head , and telling me to relax and how good it felt , so me being the submissive I am, i relaxed into the feelings and took as much of him as I could . He held my head firm , and began to stroke my mouth Stopping occasionally so I could catch my breath , and he could make sure I was alright. It made me feel good , wanted and in my own way loved.  Upon seeing this the other brother started rubbing his hard cock on my ass and between my  cheeks. He took out the candle and put something cool over my hole and pushed his fingers in and moved them around to spread what he had applied , next I felt something hard and warm push against me and begin to slide in , it was about the size of the candlethat was just removed.  But softer , I felt him slide in until his body was hitting mine. It hurt not bad , but an exciting hurt . It was something crazy, and naughty , but felt so good . All at once  things began to flow ,and each alternated their thrusts so I was being bounced between the two hard cocks inside me I had two hands on my head , and two on my waist pulling me deep in each direction. I felt wonderful despite the pain,  I relaxed and began to not only enjoy it but make it better ,I used my tongue and lips on the hard cock in my mouth , and  I began to contract my muscles to squeeze the cock in my ass . To soon the brother fucking my ass began to come, I didn't want him to pull out so I ground back on his still hardcock , and kept him inside until the other brother came in my mouth. It was hot and tasted strange , both brothers fell back to the floor of the tent laughing , that laugh you have when you just finished a great orgasm . Me I was still bound to the stool  but I was squirming , holding my mouth open wanting more . I had changed during those  last few minutes , and became a sexual animal ,  lost my innocence, virginity and any dominance  that might have remained.  I felt more loved and wanted than I ever had before and I knew I was meant to serve and destined to be a toy for hard cocks , and much later wet pussies, but that's a story for another day .  So the brothers fucking me became a daily thing that summer , and would spend many nights camping out tied in someway usually covered on cum.  When school started things were different , I wasnt hazed,  the brothers treated me like a prized pet , taking care of me protecting me , making me feel I belonged.  Sex became more rare , only ocassionally away from the tent  and maybe on weekends as the brothers began to have other Activities and friends , we had several more summers , but none as intense as that first one when they brought me out . By the last summer with them I was insatiable. I was addicted and they knew it . They begin to have other freinds join our camp outs , and they would always have me pleasure their guests,  one time I time I remember they had several freinds over , I was made to jerk off in a bowl in front of all of them , then suck each one until they came each in turn adding their cum to bowl. Then I was made to lap the cum from the bowl and move on all fours  while they all talked and drank some liquor one of boys took from his home . Soon I was tied , and once again the center of attention as I was fucked, and whipped until everyone fell asleep . This was one of the last times we were together , they had both grown and had girlfriends , so I was not as important , they did have one more surprise for me before we were done . This starts another chapter in my life ... for next time . 

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

100% Primal (Hunter)100% Dominant100% Exhibitionist100% Sadist100% Rigger100% Degrader95% Owner95% Voyeur88% Master/Mistress
 Master23Mike