Worst furniture put togetherer ever. Okay, I didn't fully look at the directions. But it was just drawings, no words, and all of the legs look the same. I only had to take it slightly apart twice. And then I couldn't get the final two screws in (that's what she said), but just on the top. It'll be okay. Really though, every time I put something together I have to take it apart at least once. Or if I'm too far in and the mistake isn't that horrible I just leave it. The second to last desk I put together had a piece flipped so you saw the rough edge. The last desk I put together I may have had to take the top off and stripped the screws so one kind of hangs down, not fully committed to it's life purpose. Eh, it's functional. Don't worry, for the real stuff I call a professional. While I was screwing in the kitchen (wink wink), someone was in the garage attaching things to studs so they wouldn't fall down on my head. Studs. Screws. It is very evident that men named these things.  Side quest... I mostly know the, what's it called, alpha bravo charlie thing. I might have to think about some of them. But it's not fun at all. So with one guy friend if we're on the phone and he didn't hear me I'll make up my own. Saliva, hippopotamus, egg salad, licorice, vestibule, eclair, squiggles. He always makes fun of me that I use girly words, and then he'll say things like rainbow, unicorn, balloons, etc. Cracks me up.  So yes, sort of a little bit mostly capable of putting things together. This is what you do when you're masquerading as an independent adult. 

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

Her OK Space is a place where she is just getting a chance to be, be herself, be friends, be play-partners or be aware of her changing needs. She feels a change as she floats around having new experiences and enjoying all her new friendships. She no longer feels the need to be protected or guided by a hand. She was mostly into the strict Daddy-Master TPE type of dynamic but she is deciding not to look for that dynamic right now. She has decided to let herself grow and embrace new experiences, new people, and different kinds of play. Her play before was only about pleasing her Master but now she is deciding to venture out and play for herself. That selfish bitch, Yup she is but ethically so..... What makes it different for her is, doing it for the experience of something that catches her eye and is offered not in a service-type dynamic but because she wants to play with the person that has offered. It can be equated with flicking your own bean for the first time for the ladies but for the men, the first-time masturbating is your example. She has always held back until a connection was formed thinking that it would eventually happen but in most cases it never did. She missed out on many great opportunities because of wanting to stay in her comfort zone. She was addicted to safe and secure relationships because there was less chance of getting truly hurt. She was wrong and now reflaspects and decides to move forward dancing and full of life. A thirst for adventure, a thirst for experience, and an appetite for fun. She has decided that if any type of relationship forms it will be because it organically came about not because of need but want. She will fill her need herself. She is happy in her OK Space, a space for her to explore, a space for different opportunities, and a place where she holds her wheel and drives for a bit.... limitless ( with the exception of her hubby that is....). He holds complete power over her so he will keep her poised and somewhat balanced.

Someone actually quite a challenge to WOW them about consent (not on cs).... I decided to write most of my response here, even though done of it is mentioned in my profile.   Wow you with consent... I love that challenge. So first things first, you can't have fun when anxiety and fear are the prevailing emotions.  Does that mean a person can't struggle against bonds or their patterned who is ignore than please of 'no' or begging for mercy and still find pleasure?  Sure they can, in the form of a safe word.  They can be simple as red, yellow, and green light... Red light being stop, yellow light, don't get any more intense... Or if the room is wiring about the intensity, can ask, sand if she say green light, she's good, keep going.   A bdsm relationship, whether it is in bed only, or 24/7 is still a 50-50 relationship.  Just because the sun lens the doom some of her fifty, doesn't mean she can't take some of all of it back at any time.  He wants to try anal, she doesn't, "I'm the Dom, so I can" is an EPIC of FAILURE of understanding basic [healthy] bdsm... Also might violate a law or two whether or not either of them know it.     Communication is also key.  Set aside time (such as a dinner) to discuss what they like it don't like.  Sometimes telling a person about what they didn't like right after or right before can kill the mood or self confidence... However during Sunday night dinner, a planned conversation, "her that thing when you turned me sides ways, don't do that for more than a minute at a time, but that thing you did when you held my head on the pillow... Don't ever not do that again..."   He laughs, "sure, when your are going down... Teeth are not sexy."     Moving on..   I actually love protocol training early in a relationship.  It's almost an if-then style relationship while learning each other's kinks: If you do this, I do that... Or if I do this, you do that.  For example, if she puts a collar on, he is not allowed to use her real name, just one of the pet names that agreed upon earlier, it could be cute like 'penny' because of the penguin on the T-shirt she wore the first time they met, or it could be something more aggressive such as 'slut,' if she agreed on that at first.  A system of controls to keep them both satisfied.          

RAM - Forever And A Day I'll show you I love youI'll show you I careI'll tell you everything you want and need to hear I'll heal your sorrow as long as I'm hereI'll make you smile again so loud and clearWhen your daylight disappearsWhen the storm is coming nearWhen you feel like hope is gone, lean on me – I'll be strongLet it all out now, it will be okayCause I'm gonna heal you now, forever and a dayDon't you give up now, it will be okayCause I'm gonna fight for you forever and a day

          Good Morning 🍒 Male submissives are beautiful and desirable creatures, and it is absolutely tragic when they do not know their own desirability because they are forcibly taught, not just by mainstream society but by the BDSM community, that they are not desirable, that they can not possibly be objaspects of desire I am not dominant because I hate men, but because I love and desire men enough to want to own them. I cherish and appreciate submissive men for their beautiful masculinity. Submissive men just gets the pussy juices flowing for me. Their yielding excites me in a primal way. Their desire to please, to be pursued, to be attractive for me, the object of my fierce and hungry gaze, is what pushes my buttons. I certainly respect people who are wired differently. I just won't date them.

 We here at the House of G are continuously evolving and growing and the training of our slaves is a daily ongoing process. We also train our Dominants and future Masters the same way. As you can tell by now, we are a training environment. However, we are TPE/24-7 (Total Power Exchange) and RT (Real-time), we do very little online. That does not mean that we are not willing to share information or to help other people in our lifestyle grow, but there are just some things that just do not work well online. As for collars of consideration, we here at the House of G do not believe in them. In fact, I as the Master of the House of G, do not even offer my collar to people, they must ask for it and prove their worth before receiving it. Once they have it, it doesn’t end there; they must work hard to keep it. I have addressed this in several forums, and we are hoping soon to have our own website up, where Masters and Dominants who wish to learn can come together and share information. As far as the House goes, our location currently is in Carrollton GA, we would be glad to make ourselves available, if you would like to come see us, provided after a few more conversations online that we find that your mindset is compatible with ours.

If your profile pic is your crotch or your butt, from any angle, clothed or not, lingerie or not, chastity or not, I will "Hide" your profile from view. I do not want to be introduced to a crotch or a butt. If your profile pic is a bathroom mirror nude body shot, I likely will not look further. Why would I want to get to know somebody with so little sense of aesthetics, so little willingness to put in a bit of effort, so little imagination? A profile avatar is your introduction, your first hand-shake, not a place to bare your all. Even on a kink site, we are people first. Kinky does not mean a total lack of class or style or courtesy. A profile avatar does not have to be a face pic, it doesn't even have to be you, it just has to show something interesting about you. A hobby, a pet, a silhouette of you against a sunset, a photo you took and love. If your body doesn't belong in a fashion magazine, don't expect it to be interesting to potential partners as a first introduction. Bodies become much more attractive for many women when we get to know the person first. We are looking for more than bodies. Show us a WHOLE PERSON. That goes for the body of the profile, too. Show us a whole person, not another horny porn-fed online wannabe without a clue. Show you know what you are talking about outside of porn, which is NOT educational. Be a real, interesting, knowledgable person. Or do please write to somebody else.

What is Y/your WHY? If You are familiar with the Simon Sinek video which You'll find easily enough on Utube he asks the question about what is your WHY.  The Why is what gets you out of bed in the morning, it's what motivates you and pushes you and keeps you constantly striving and pushing forward. I was thinking about that video again today because I feel like it's a good question to consider when figuring out where I belong in this lifestyle.  And simply put, I think that while I am searching for an Owner just like every other s-type here, I realize that what I am really seeking is my WHY or more specifically, that person who embodies my WHY.  I'm not seeking an Owner because of the kink or because of some fetish though those are certainly the spices of this lifestyle.  I'm seeking my Owner because I believe they will be the WHY in my life.  I don't think I currently, truly have a WHY. I think everyone wants to live a life of meaning and purpose.  I think everyone wants to matter.  I think everyone wants to know that when it's all said and done, there will be something they can look back upon and smile knowing that what they did made a difference. I have a good job, but it's just that, a job.  I've achieved professionally, but the truth is that my career has never been more to me than a means of paying the bills.  I don't have any kids.  I know a lot of people live for their kids but life didn't work out that way for me.  So what is my life for?  What is my WHY? I think that's what I am searching for here. I think my Owner will be my WHY.  I think They will be the reason i get out of bed smiling every morning.  I think that in surrendering to Them, I allow Them to direct and control my life in a way that pleases Them and give me a sense of purose, direction and that through my service, worship and obedience to Them, I am living a life of meaning.  A service sub or slave takes joy in pleasing, in washing every dish and scrubbing every floor for their Owner.  We take pride in our willingness to do whatever it takes to make Them happy and we are grateful to Them for every single thing They allow us to do in service to Them. It's why we want to say "Thank You," when we fetch that glass of water for You.  It's why we want to say "Thank You," after You've allowed us to pleasure You.  Or, why we say, "Thank You," when You deny us pleasure as a means of making You happy. There are certainly a lot of people who are only in this for the kink and fetish but I think there are a lot of us who are in this looking for our WHY too.  And our WHY is a person we get to please and in allowing us to do so, they give our lives meaning.  That's an extrordinary gift.  And the truth is no matter how much You demand of us, no matter how hard You work us, no matter how much You push us, we will never be able to repay You for that gift.  It's the difference between a life looked back upon with joy or with regret.  It's why wanting to own an s-type is an act of grace and benevolence.  

Here is an open thought. I am not on this site to find love. I have been loved, I have been engaged twice to the same man, that was a wild ride. I am not the type to have kids, however I can see myself adopting the runt of a litter who has no hope and a limited future and share my survival skills to make the runt the front runner in life.  I have always loved being the assumed underdog in life. I am a working professional so I will expect a man I try to connect with to be the same. I am not interested in a person's bank balance or assests, honestly none of my business. I do expect a man who is in my company to not be a cheap skate and I have met a couple. I am not expecting to be bought but I do expect if a man wants a BORN women who enjoys her feminity I should not have to spell out make an effort with flowers, make an effort with running the bath, make and effort with you see a pretty dress or skirt and think I know ONE women in my company who would look good in that. I appreciate men contact me and offer they want to be one of my two men but when I ask you to unmask yourself and tell me who you are, I want to know I am not inviting an unkept, unwashed, unclean, diseased, unemployed dread of society into my world or my bed. I don't think that is a hard ask. If you want to see my face not an issue, I do WhatsApp and you can even video chat for all I care but if you make me jump hurdles I will make you jump the same bar.   C

She would probably have bent over the padded bench if he had told her too, but he had lifted her easily and firmly pushed her over it. If asked she would have reached forward and held the legs before he had secured her wrists to them. Likewise she might have spread her feet wide, but there was no choice given at all, and she was helpless. She would not have tied her hair in a ponytail but she was in no position to resist, or to stop him tightening the strap over her lower back that forced so wanton a display of her buttocks. He had bared her nipples by removing her bra with a knife. She was denied the modesty of her skirt when he tucked it up in the waistband. The tie sided panties were soon pressed into her mouth which he had been made it available by attaching her hair to the waist strap, forcing her head back so affording her only a forward view.  She was now displayed, securely bound and completely available. A familiar sound made her wonder if his intention was to use or discipline her.  He had a crop in a Velcro sealed case, it wasn’t often she regretted her music playing however it concealed enough of the sound to make her unsure, was it the crop case opening, or was it his trouser zip?   She involuntarily clenched her buttocks, this served to pucker her anus, almost inviting him to use her there. – she suddenly wondered if could serve to distract him?.. Then wondered again if he actually intended to beat her? Moments prior to her restraint he had demanded her tongue, ‘Good girl ‘he had murmured into her mouth before his hand descended and found her becoming aroused. She heard his step on the wooden floor; her curiosity would soon be resolved.

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

  New Year After a brief discussion this morning we have agreed on a few things to try and get the most out of 2023. wearing my daily collar more often (as permitted by job, etc) more butt plugs less underwear more outfits with access when home more use of the belt more opportunities for us to explore with others Happy New Year!

It's time for me to stand up and fight.  I changed my profile picture because I needed to, I had to.  As more time goes on, the more I see, the more our possible future scares me. This upcoming election, and heck up to next Jan 20th possibly, will possibly go down as one of the more important times in US history. And it scares me to the point that I'm being more political than ever before, to spread awareness, to educate.For myself, I've ALWAYS been independant.  I've always voted 3rd party.  I hate the 2 party system.  Every year I could.   Up to 2020, the first year I voted anything else. And again this year. In the future, when the threat has passed, I'll go back to it, but now is the time to stand up and fight.I'm a submissive/slave, and I'm not a passive one waiting for someone to provide orders.  But being a slave is my choice.  My freedom.  And I believe 100% in the freedom that everyone should have, to decide for them what is best for themselves.I believe in Science.  That experts in their fields know better than politicians, or really anyone else.I believe in equality.  It doesn't matter who you are, what you like, or what you do, we should all be equal.I believe in education. and in line with that:I believe in critical thinking. Children - everyone should learn, and should be able to learn, everything they can or want. And even more importantly they should learn that questions, and questioning is ok, to not believe everything that they read or hear and to actually use their brain to think for themselves.I believe in Books.  In line with education, nothing should be banned.I believe in morality. Both teaching it but also living it. Don't do as you are told, instead think for yourself and do as you feel is right. I believe religion is the most toxic thing that has ever been introduced to humanity, but:I also believe that people are and should be free to worship whoatever, whomever, and however they wish, with:I also believe that religion, thoughts, views, and desires should not be thrust upon anyone, as everyone should be free to make their own decisions, and shouldn't be pressured or manipulated into anything.With the above and more...   I believe that Donald Trump will destroy the US if elected again.I believe that project 2025 is real and that Trump is a part of it.I believe that many republicians are not bad people, in the end, but they believe the fake news, the lies, the fear-mongering and the manipulation they are being told, and do not have the skills, or experience, or education to use critical thinking to see through it all. I believe that I must help fight the hate, the lies, and stand up for what is right.I will speak with anyone about anything, if you wish to have a conversation, I'm open, however if you plan on voting for Donald Trump, it is a hard limit and expect nothing more than conversation.I will not be overly political here aside from this journal and the image, but sometimes a very little is all that is needed.I may or may not post other journals, but as of now I neither plan nor intend to, but as I said above, I'm going to stand up and speak for all, so that doesn't mean I won't.

Awaken to gentle licks upon my labia and the tickle of your facial hair on my inner thighs  You knowing my body and realizing that sucking my clit is not what gets me going  But that gentle tongue massage on my lower lips causes me to softly moan and drip with wetness  I'm in the euphoria of emotional bliss  Slow intense grinding along with the need to run  I'm about to explode  What a way to wake up,  as the main course I've trained you well and you know how to please  Now, I will lay you back, tie you up, or leave you free  I know before I'm done you'll be screaming please!

In Januaury of last year I started a path I never saw myself doing... I hired a trainer and started working out 4 days a week... I feel like there should have been a betting pool, or something, because I NEVER expected to be on that same path a year and four months later...but here I am, healthier, at least 40 pounds lighter, and feeling so much better, physically, mentally, emotionally and about myself. I constatnly amaze myself with things, like how four years ago my doctors said I'd never lift more than 10 pounds... last Wednesday, I did dead lifts at 205 pounds for 5 reps... or how they said I would never be able to handle running again, I started jogging on the treadmill (supervised of course) and have a total of 5 minuets over 2 days, not bad for something I haven't done in over 20 years, and for someone with "heart failure"... In the last 20 years of my life, I've gone from an active live to inactive, a 30 waist to a 46, now back down to a 38, inching (get it?) closer to 36 actually... and all I can thinks is "Wow! I really like doing this!" You see, when I was a kid, it was the "jocks" the weightlifters, the football ogres, I mean players, that bullied harrased and made me feel insecure about being gay, if only they tried that today... anyhow, I never figured that this training I do now would be enjoyable because of that. Actually it's more than enjoyable. I get out of bed in the mornings with energy, ready to conqure my day and all that it throws at me! All because one day, I decided I wasn't gonna let heart failure win. Because I decided to be a healtheir, better me. And because I literally dared myself to do it! Who knows, maybe in a few weeks I'll give a progress update...

  I keep putting off posting here but a few people keep reminding me so here’s a bit of an update on my life.. As my profile and prior journal entry says, I’m owned (full time and live-in) by a couple and part of their household. This position is a lot different than my prior ownership position but I was expecting that. I function as the alpha in the household but I’m inexperienced in that position so it’s been a steep learning curve. They have great faith in me and my potential so who am I to question that? ;) The household is much more steeped in the harder core end of the BDSM spectrum. And by that I mean that it’s not just an occasional role play type thing or the D/s “lifestyle” thing with inane rule lectures or protocols and such. Well, to be fair, my prior ownership situation was similar in that way too but I was also in college at the time so there was a lot of time spent out of the house in the vanilla world. In large part, my decision to take on the position was because it was a more edgy and realistic situation than the more mainstream “lifestyle” stuff I’ve encountered. I suspect this is going to get horribly hacked up here so I'll leave more until later...  

10172025 Thank you again to all who reach out with words of encouragement and shared experience.  I feel the supportiveness and it gives Me another speck of SOURCE which fills Me and carries over to care of My best friend and mother.  Thank you from both of us women.  I never have shared much about the dominant nature of mother, but it is enough to say we are matched well.     For those who are DRAINS on My energy, you know well who you are and your presence is the slow bleed in life.  One could hope it all balances one out in the end, yet I cannot help keep thinking WHATAWASTEOFCELLS. You have the capacity for greatness and yet you allow EGO to rule you and with it come all the rest of the bedfellows, or more commonly known as the 7 sins.  Such a sorrow and I pray you find grace and love in your life.   I am seeking.  Many men have flitted in and out, some sharing more of their self and then life gets in the way, and afterall still I am not served, WE are not served. No live in, no part time, and 'Blast! Nothin but mutton to eat."  lol I continue the search and refine, redefine and realign Myself for the PRESANT.  

Time to put out another...message in a bottle.  If you are going to contact me;  Be polite. Politeness costs your nothing. And it shows manners.  Be consistant. If you want to know all about me, and ask questions, then reply to my responses in a timely manner. If you don't have further interest, kitten is a big girl and you can just say so.  Be honest. I don't want to have to ask you 50 questions to finally get you to fill in the bigger picture of your wants and needs, OK? We can be flirty and fun and joke around, but we both should have an appreciation for and skill in using direct honesty. Be informed. Did you read my profile and my journals before contacting me? Fantastic! That's the best place to start!  I will, of course, be the same! I'm looking for someone wonderful and sexy just like you!  Thanks in advance!   

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

I figured I should come back and do a follow-up to my previous post about successes. It was not a success. But I guess it was a learning experience. Long distance is always an issue, but more so because it's nearly impossible to really know how honest someone is being when you can't actually see them in real time. It's easy to say this or that isn't a problem when you aren't in that situation. Its easy to say you are doing something when no one can see otherwise. And it's easy to let yourself believe someone is who they say they are when they don't actually have to prove it in real time.  No one wants to believe they are lying to themselves about who they are. I don't think this person intended to be dishonest with us, so much as they wanted to believe they were able to be that person FOR us, and thought they had done enough work to pull it off. I think that maybe they hadn't really considered everything fully, even though that was what we consistently discussed. And I think that my rules about recreational drugs and mental health will have to be 100% held to, and not let slide on technicalities or softened just because someone talks a good game in other areas. Self-analysis and deep thinking aren't enhanced by substances intended to "take the edge off," and one's ability to face hard truths gets padded by it, so the hard truths look a lot softer and fuzzier through the smoke colored lenses. Unfortunately, when the fuzzy wears off, and reality sets in, everything looks very different, and suddenly all the thinking is un-padded. That buffer of artificial happy is gone, the work that should have happened beforehand is still needing to be done. And now, they were here, so it had to happen in real time, not gently eased into over however long it would take to do it gracefully. All the easy vaporizes, and honesty gets REALLY FUCKING HONEST really fast without all the distance to hide behind. And to be even more honest - although everyone wants to insist that who they are under the influence is still them, there are always significant differences. Since all we had known till then was this person under said influence, both of substance and of unrealistic expectations, in the absence of those things, it felt like we were suddenly dealing with a total stranger, with whom none of the prior negotiation applied. There was acting out, there was sullenness, there were passive aggressive behaviors, and there were attempts at emotional manipulation. All of which I tried to defuse, discuss, and handle with the same level of communication and ethics that had come before they arrived, which unfortunately, as they were no longer really thinking or feeling the same as before, all failed to help them re-center themselves. It in fact made it worse, because they apparently were not actually capable of what was being asked - the calm, realistic consideration of what they wanted long term, in order to re-negotiate and regain the long-term view of the previously stated goals. They could not let go of their focus on their immediate desire for a physical and emotional gratification, in order to secure the possibility of probable long-term gratifications.  In the end, what went wrong was what always goes wrong- short sighted, low level thinking, lack of actual effort and lack of serious thought. While they SAID they were doing these things, and they SAID they valued what we valued, etc, in the end, while they did more, and better than others have in the past, they didn't actually DO it so much as give better effort at faking it.

The Constant submissive   A submissive isn't only submissive in the presence of its Owner. A submissive isn't only pleasing by request or demand. A submissive doesn't light up only when The Dominants gaze brushes its skin.  A submissive doesn't feel safe only when melting into its Dominants web. A submissive is Owned always. The Dominant safeguards it in Their thoughts at all times. The Dominant is the encouragement behind its success. The Dominant is the wanton desire that flames its skin. The Dominant is the rock and warm embrace that keeps it safe. That whisper in its ear that makes it smile.  That secret memory that makes it blush. A submissive isn't submissive only in the presence of its Owner - maybe because The Dominant never really leave the subs side.

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?

I’m realizing that my heart is learning faster than my words can keep up. I’ve been exploring what it means for me to want attention, connection, and intentional dynamics in my relationship. I love flirting—not because it’s shallow, but because it makes me feel seen. I love being noticed, chosen, and appreciated. There is something deeply affirming in that for me, and I’m done pretending it’s something to feel guilty about. At the same time, I’m learning that I don’t want to be reduced to a role or a fantasy. I can’t live as an idea. Real life exists—laundry, stress, tired days, responsibilities—and I exist fully inside of that reality. Submission, for me, isn’t about performing constantly. It’s about choosing to show up with softness, trust, and intention even when life is ordinary. I crave the quieter moments most. The way I listen more closely. The way I offer support without being asked. The way I slow down, check in, and make space. The way I surrender control in small, meaningful ways—through care, consistency, and presence. Those moments feel more powerful to me than anything dramatic. They feel real. What I’m struggling with now is how to explain this to my husband in a way that doesn’t sound confusing or contradictory. How do I say that I love attention and playfulness, but that I also need grounding and depth? How do I explain that I don’t want to be put on display, but rather held with intention? That my submission isn’t something I turn on and off—it’s something I live through daily choices, not constant expectation.

 TotalOwnerforslave