Stretchmarks, scars and cellulite It's a conversation that i've had far too often. "I want to take it off but I have scars", "I hope you don't mind my stretch marks" or what's worse "please don't be disappointed". I can't and i'm not going to pretend to speak for all men ( I am increasingly realising that there are a large number of us who are unequivocal dick heads) But I can say with confidence that I am not phased in the slightest. By your scars, your stretch marks or any other imperfections.Each one of them is a different aspect of you and possibly even tells a story that explains why you are the incredible person you are. My favourite thing to do on a play date is you standing in front of me so I can enjoy and explore every inch of you.

Hello all,  Hope you dads are having a great day! Someone is suppose to come see me on Wednesday,  but I  forgot to write the name down. If you are reading this entry please get hold of me. You are a newbie. I have talked to so many since I  have talked with you. So get hold of me here.  

This profile is severely out dated and with the current way that it takes forever to get your account re approved and reviewed , im worried about loosing contact with amazing people , so im updating here first.     Ok firstly this is no longer a Dominant profile , I gave it a go for a partner but it was not for me .   I much prefer the slave lifestyle and to be owned n controlled , and I very heavily prefer the absolutely sadistic and more intense Experiences all the way around.    I'm seeking  a Hellashish amount of CBT , and would absolutely adore it if I could find an owner or  owners that would want to use me partially or fully as their personal toilet .      Open to.relocation , although it'd have to be a live in , even if out in the barn , type of situation.    I'm very open minded and just want to find a home that will enjoy torturing and hurting the every living bajeebus out of me on a regular , who would benefit from my labors. Skills and dedication of time , energy and life to them.

Are you carrying heavy loads you wish would go away or that you could move away from them? Galatians 6:2 says we should carry each others burdens. We should come together to exhort and lift one another up. When two or more are gathered in Christ's name, He is with them. He also promises to give you rest when you are weary and burdened. As Christians we are not to use biased judgement or prejudice against another whether they be Christian or not. Christ is working behind the scenes and they very well could be saved even if their life doesn't look like it from your perspective. We should encourage one another to be loving, kind, blameless, and to love God and one another, enemies included. Seek godly wisdom and understanding. Be moved towards allowing Christ to evolve you from the inside out. Let your adorning be more inwards than it is outwards. The Bible is filled with practical truths that help you to show love, act in love, love others, love God, and even forgive and love an enemy. All scripture is God breathed and useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness. Please turn to Jesus today, he loves you enough to not leave you where you are. Life is a journey are you allowing him to walk it with you? 

Scared off the Dom that It was presently Under consideration too.A Civvie that he didnt keep it confidence and discussed things about it without checking with it first Especially about it Military deployments and active duty.He went to a friend as a sounding board he trusted that person told him that he should run away as fast as he can because of what it has been involved with and committed too on its old life. How fucked up it is mentally and physically because of wars deploying and willingness to sacrificing its life for the greater good to make a difference.He told his friend that It works as a Prostitute to survive after another Dom it sacrificed its careers for to be totally focused on him and later he was found out to be a closet serial killer.And all the medical treatments and surgerys ahead of it. He turned out to be a frightened little rabbit that breaching it trust was the betrayal was so big he knew It couldn't forgive him.

I have an exercise I've used on people over the years.  Its funny my biggest success story with this was a subs guy who really wasn't sub.  This got him in touch with himself.  And it turns out he was Dominant. Lesson 2 This can be a little tough to maintain.  Remember if this was real life breaking position would get you disciplined.   This position is commonly called Nadu.   Now for the 15 minutes I want you to look at the girl in the mirror.  Notice how she sits, how she squirms as you look at her.  How she Flushes under your gaze. And then think about how you feel in position as ordered, how you feel to be gazed upon, how you look. When the timer expires organize your thoughts and then put it down in a 750 word essay.  Really think as you write and be honest to yourself.    When your done I would have you send it to me so we can discuss how you see yourself vs how i see you. But your not mine so put this in a safe place you'll be reading it later.

When I was young. Many older ladies from my neighborhood, older cousins, sisters friends who were 8+ years older were always playing sexual type games with me. Never rape just playful type things. Many of the older ladies had 70-80 porn. When I read the stories I was most attracted to the ones about dominant  controlling women. As I got driving age I had a fake id and would go buy that type of porn on my own. I ahve had about 5 past girlfriends in which we played femdom sexual games. 3 of them with much greater intensity. One of them  I did just about everything with. So I have experienced  everything I have wanted to. I found myself to be a great oral lover and passionate pamperer. When one of the three  would reach a point when they themselves could not control their inhibition, maybe because they were having rolling organisms or near passion heights and would really let go, no concern for me or my trauma but only focused on their own pleasure, I  would become a superman sexually for them. I guess the more they were having super pleasures the more  I got into making that happen. With one of them, I was actually scared of what might happen and we could read each others thoughts without talking. That was truly amazing.   Thats a summary basically

Living in a polyamorous household, where multiple individuals have consensually chosen to have romantic and/or sexual relationships with one another, can have numerous benefits for all members involved.  One of the most obvious benefits is financial. By sharing living expenses and resources, such as a home, transportation, and household goods, members of a polyamorous household can reduce their individual expenses and potentially increase their savings. In addition, having multiple partners can provide emotional and practical support, which can result in reduced stress and better financial decision making.  On the social level, living in a polyamorous household can also be beneficial. Members can form deep and meaningful connections with multiple partners, providing a greater sense of belonging and connectedness. In addition, the open communication and negotiated boundaries that are typically a part of polyamorous relationships can lead to a greater sense of trust and understanding among all members.  On the psychological level, living in a polyamorous household can also have positive effects. For example, being able to form romantic and sexual connections with multiple partners can provide a greater sense of self-worth and self-esteem. In addition, having multiple partners can also provide a sense of security and emotional support, which can lead to greater overall well-being.  However, it is important to note that living in a polyamorous household is not without its challenges. For example, jealousy and insecurity can sometimes arise, and open communication and a willingness to work through these challenges is crucial for the success of the relationship. In addition, it can also be difficult to navigate societal judgments and discrimination against non-traditional relationship structures.  In conclusion, living in a polyamorous household can provide numerous benefits for its members, including financial, social, and psychological advantages. While it may not be for everyone, those who choose to live in such a household can find that the benefits outweigh the challenges, leading to a happier and more fulfilled life.

Love degrading, deeply separatingMy distances of dark pride. DaringThis daggered being to a death ofIdentity. Damn me. May the dawnDraw dyed lines of words upon myDunes. May You, God of my dragons,Declare me as Your dirty darling.Where decadence decades theseDaymares of independenceWhere You define my worth, for thisDance of ours deepens our freedomDay and night, dusk into dust. DivineDreams. - We finally begin to exist. dirtydarling

So since I'm starting to look again for someone to bring into my dynamic i've had a few questions and statements as to why I am the way I am. I have PTSD for a few reasons. 1 relates to this lifestyle we arranged a hotel meet when the Mrs was still alive. We met what we thought was one person in a hotel room. It turned out it was an ambush and 2 other men were hiding in the toilet. I was beaten unconcious and they took turns on the wife without lube or protection. Then when I was out and they had finished with her they went to work on me. I was left with internal bleeding, left for dead and issues with my backside shall we say. So if I'm asking for patience or seem to take a step back, it probably has nothing to do with you as I do have flashbacks every now and again. If we do arrange a meet it would be somewhere safe first and there will be safe words and someone around just making sure everything goes ok, they will leave when I feel comfortable. If it ever does go to a 24/7 or prolonged meets, you may notice I do wake up in night terrors, it is to do with the above. I'd ask until I fully wake up just let me come around naturally.

  Obedience Rituals for a kajira.   A kajira must be obedient and pleasing. She has many ways to assure her master. The obedience rituals provide a striking set of actions that every kajira must master. First Obedience The girl presents herself before her master who has commanded first obedience. She kneels before her master with her hands on the floor. Next the kajira rubs her cheeks and hair on her master’s feet. While attending to her master, the girl must tell her master how much she loves being his slave and how much she loves him. She continues pleasuring her master while pleading that she only wants to be his kajira, his pleasure slave. When the master signals that she has met his needs she must remain in position for other commands such as Second Obedience. Second Obedience The kajira remains kneeling with her hair on her master’s feet. She begins kissing his feet and telling him what sexual favors she will provide. How long and how many desires she uncovers is up to her. She may also plead for sex acts that she needs and wants. The more detailed and complete the better. The master will let her know when she has fulfilled her duties, usually by being ordered to Nadu position.  

So, how submissive am I? I met up with a new Master today. He'd answered an ad I'd put up on a personals page and we'd chatted and swapped pics for a few days on Telegram.   He was very dominant and talking about 'dehumaising' me - I didn't quite know what that meant but I was definitely curious - it flicked a switch in my submissive mind. This morning he asked if I was free - and luckily I was able to move things around and go over to his place. With a beating heart I knocked on his door (I always forget how frightening it is until I'm standing outside a new Master's house again!), and he let me in.   He was very good looking - amazing eyes, good build.  The flat was a down-at-heel studio, and a complete tip - so that was very off putting. Anyway, he didn't hang around; after I'd stripped he gave me a bit of a spanking and bit my ass a few tmies, then he had me kneel down, and take his cock in his mouth and proceeded to piss and hold me there while I drank it all. This wasn't something I'd ever done before and whilst it was gross, I guess that was the point and so I swallowed it all, not spilling a drop. Next he agve me an enema, even though I'd cleaned myself before I set out; and then he had me sit on the loo and watched while I discharged it all. No privacy. I then got to suck his cock which was short and circumcised, but quite fat.  He was an Indian guy and I'd never been with a guy like that before. Next I knelt on the cold tiles of the bathroom and he ordered me to rim him.  This was another thing I'd only done once and again I found the idea rather gross - but I did as I was ordered. Next into the bedroom, more cock sucking and then a very firm talking to in which he said that after this meeting I'd have a choice about whether to continue to serve him, or to walk away. Then more rimming. I dont know what it was, but during this part of the meet, I suddenly thought "I don't want to do this", and so I stopped and said so. He ordered me to stand at the end of the bed and explain why, and I just said I wasn't enjoying it.  So he let me get dressed again and I left. He was very nice about it, and afterwards sent me a telegram message with a video of him deleting the pictures he'd taken during the session. And I went home on the bus, wondering whether I was submissive and ready for a Master's collar, or just a little slut who loves getting fucked - and should therefore stop calling myself a sub. Does anyone have any thoughts?        

Through the Lens of Rika: The Sophia-Michael Connection Unveiled this piece is on the vibes of the soul lineage/shard/fractures of the sophia energy woman and the archangel michael guy. of course as it always is on my side of the internet. but this time it's about either the beginning of the relationship or what happens when one of us meet each other either online or in person but do not go through with initiating past a surface level connection. this is through the analysis of the song the others by rika. even the music video showcases this lovely too.   when a femme/women of any gender expression meets an archangel michael soul encoded guy fireworks spark. chemistry is there. and an underlying pull comes. it can be pretty clear to those who work with energy and all the signs that will come if it's just this dynamic going on or something more. there will be more signs/synchronicities/depth/alignment going on if they are supposed to be your woman and you are supposed to be their man....but each of these sophia's and michaels have an underlying current of spark, magnetism, and probably some type of attraction going on than other energetic signatures out there. just do. why? not sure i was given the esoteric awareness without the whys yet.   let's pull out the lyrics to start the incantation as usual shall we?   verse   We're not together but I feel like we're together   And you know what   That when you leave you're like a mission puzzle piece   'Cause you know   Yeah boy you know   pre-chorus   I try and try a million times   I wish that I could read your mind   Day to day I can't come back   I love the way   chorus   You know you're nothing like the others   No, you know you're nothing like the others, yeah   'Cause you can call me, put you on me   'Cause I'm all you need boy   You know you're nothing like the others   No, you're nothing like like the others   verse   I can be the lion, no one got you on my mind   It feels good, so good   Mhh, you're away I'm dreaming of those days   This is so good, so good   pre-chorus   I try and try a million times   I wish that I could read your mind   Day to day I can't come back   I love the way   chorus   You know you're nothing like the others   No, you know you're nothing like the others, yeah   'Cause you can call me, put you on me   'Cause I'm all you need boy   You know you're nothing like the others   No, you're nothing like the others   bridge   I can know myself, I can now myself, no one, no one knows   You know me so well, you know me so well, so let's lose ourselves   No, I can know myself, I can help myself, no one, no one knows   'Cause you, you know me so well, you know me so well, so let's lose ourselves   chorus   You know you're nothing like the others   No, you know you're nothing like the others, yeah   'Cause you can call me, put you on me   'Cause I'm all you need boy   You know you're nothing like the others   No, you're nothing like the others   outro   I can know myself, I can now myself   No, you know you're nothing like the others   You know me so well, you know me so well, yeah   'Cause you can call me, put you on me   'Cause I'm all you need boy   You know you're nothing like the others (Yeah boy, yeah boy)   You're nothing like the others   instead of starting at the beginning i want to start with the bridge.   "I can know myself, I can now myself, no one, no one knows   You know me so well, you know me so well, so let's lose ourselves   No, I can know myself, I can help myself, no one, no one knows   'Cause you, you know me so well, you know me so well, so let's lose ourselves"   sophia again is the archetype of the original source of women that comes from knowledge knowing the foresight the ability to understand what is going on..a deep awareness of the future the deep ability to see ahead of the present and to tap into past present and all directions of awareness right?   this song says, i can know myself.   she knows HERSELF first....only by knowing herself can she understand what she sees around her. and in knowing herself she sees her outside world clearly.   through seeing her outside world clearly, i typo-ed outself.....i think that's a spiritual interesting typical..outside of the self....anyway through that she can clearly understand how other mens energies around her work. and she can seek the michael aura and how it looks in the sphere of men vs. the other energy and archangel qualities men carry. and if a man doesn't have angelic energy what that looks like as well.   unless you have the ability through whatever your psychic strength is to see it, no one else might be able to pick up on what you see. and then, no one might know or the average person might not know what you are picking up on.   not only that...no one will know yourself more than you. and through knowing yourself, you can see how deep this michael uses his golden boy the lead of the angel's keen tactical warrior senses to hone in on you. to see beyond what most men would not go into understanding. and because of your awareness of yourself and others, you see how heavy this man is going in on you. and for these michael men they sniff out women like me, like my sisters in a way they can just pick up on nuances that many would take longer to get.   michael and sophia after all are the same soul cyrstal if you will broken between two gender energy expressions. and now that we have the masculine and the feminine in different bodies it can often look in a multitude of ways...and this dark starseed archetype of the two spreads the way this looks into more finite details. a core of shared basics but things people might deem as 'too separate' simply different variables to figure out which way is the most optimal at once.   once she uses her knowledge and sees you....she's ready regardless of what the outside world or other appearances say to lose herself in you! why?   because she found your energy signature and essence.   YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE THE OTHERS!!!! the song opens up in a fanfare brass moment. and it has cheers and celebratory vibes. this also goes into a vibe of fanfare of winning a war/battle spoils that would come naturally for an archangel michael masculine energy and her coming

LOL Some of ya'll are just pulling My leg now... ..."Another one gone, another one gone, another one bites the dust...yeah"   I'm learning to embrace this process.  No doubt other dominants will agree, this 'finding' process hones you to a fine instrument of decisiveness and determination and deliverance. One unfortunate aspect, at least in My experience, is that the nincompoops flood ones bloody inbox with so much wasting of time that they bury the sincere inquiries.  Oh well, THANK God I have some hopefulls in the wings.  Let's say a prayer they fly true and straight! ************** I've been wanting to say a word to all the dominant and submissive men I've had the pleasure of speaking with here who are or who have been caregivers (admitely I don't often speak with women caregivers).  The amount of you who have cared for mothers and wives, Mistresses and sisters, daughters, grandmothers, aunts and on...  You have surprised Me with your care and your strength, inturn sharing your strength with Me and adding to My own convictions and care.  THANK YOU for all that you do!  You all are true gems and what would the world be like if not for the men who care for us?  For those of you whose loves have passed on, My heart goes out to you as you journey foward after the battle you have endured.  May you find peace and kindness and mutual hearts to heal after the storm.  For those of you who continue on as I do, nurturing those whom we love and care for, may you find the strength to continue giving your grace and goodness.  I hold a tender place in My heart for those who give of theirself and I pray for us all ways.  May God bless you and keep you and those whom you love, in grace. You are not alone and you are loved.

So I've been getting a lot more hate messages from MAGATs of late.  I'm thinking it may be because the midterms are quickly approaching and they know new days will be dawning.  Some say this is not the place to express my political views.  I'd respond that my views are more about not wanting to attract tRumpanzees with no moral compass than being political.  But I'm often blocked after they show their asses which is ok.  I have no interest in convincing them they're ignorant pieces of shit if they still think he's a good president who is doing great things for this wonderful country. It boggles my mind to think there are still people who are supportive of him after its clear he needs to  be in prison or a nursing home. And that they're eager to defend him and vocalize their ignorance.  I'd be glad to have civil and intelligent discourses with them but they don't seem to be able to do that.  So AGAIN I will say PLEASE keep on strolling if you don't like what I have to say. That's the purpose of my rants.  Thank you for your attention to this matter. lol  

There's this man I know. He says he's not a nice guy. He listens intently to me ramble. When I apologize for it, he tells me not to because I like telling him things, and he enjoys that. There's this man I know. He says he's selfish. I've sent him cute things, naughty things. He never asks for them. He says he'll never pressure me, and appreciates when I do things of my own accord. There's this man I know. He says he's got an unquenchable thirst. I used to lay out opportunities that he'd reject. He says as much as he finds me attractive, there's a reason we've been friends for so long, and he likes having me around. There's this man I know. He says he's dark. I've told him all my insecurities. He's seen my lowest points, seen me spiral out, make terrible decisions. He's never made me feel ashamed. He's never kept them as leverage against me. He makes every bad step I take seem so incredibly small. There's this man I know. He says he's cold. His praises are detailed and specific. He says he's proud of me and that I should be proud, too. There's this man I know. He says he's uncaring. He once kept me company an entire day while I was unwell, just to help distract me from it. He barely knew me. There's this man I know. He says he's a bad man. He's honest. He's kind. He's funny. He's doting. He's patient. He's always on my side.  He's a good man, and I'm grateful to know him.

If you are applying for a postion with us you need to keep in mind that each communication is part of the interview. So when we tell you to answer the 8 questions that can be found below in one of our other journal entries make sure to completely answer them all.  As we go through the process make sure you read our messages and answer completely and thoroughly all what is asked of you. In the end we go back and evealuate all of this before deciding if we think you are a good fit and serious about this.    Here is how our process goes. 1. You reach out to us first with a message introducing yourself, someimes we reach out to females we may be interested in and introduce ourselves and ask them if interested to do the same, either way you should be thorough in your answer. 2. Unless you read our profile and journals and answered the 8 questions, extra consideration if you did, we tell you to read everything ans answer the 8 questions. 3.. We ask you if you have any questions 4. we give you an email address for you to reply to so we can send you the house rules  5. You will review the house rules and ask any questions in them and once done decide if you are able and willing to live by them. 6. We give you and advanced questionaire to fill out and we ask any questions about it we need to know more about 7. We allow you to ask questions you may still need to know before deciding if you want this with us. 8. We decide if we want to try it with you and you do the same we exchange phone numbers voice verify each other 9. set up trial period 10. you do trial period and we discuss with you at end of it whether we are all in agreement to offer the position.  11. You get training collar for 6-12 months 12. Once we feel you are trained you get permanent colar.

I love the Q&A moment after wild sex. My new guest pulling out his cigerette in my bed and asking thoose tender questions. Why are you into asphyxiation? You don't look the type to enjoy anal play? Is there a type - is always my response. Appreciating that this guest brought properly fitting condoms and wine but cared to bring another bottle as a gift is in fact a gift, makes a change from the Greek. This one cooks, appreicates I live in a small space but he orientates very quickly and enjoys sticking on the radio to hear the football but tender enough to ask what else do I sexually enjoy. Will be spending the day removing the santorum stain off my duvet cover, thank god for baking soda. Openly dating is very fun.

1 year post gastric bypass I have lost approximately 80 pounds from December 2020-May 2022. I had gastric bypass on May 2021. What have I learned in the first year post gastric bypass: A bite or two of something is enough for a taste but you don’t need a ton. A single bite or two of something sweet but high in calories is usually enough. I was trained as a small child that anything you take you eat. Learning to stop when full and ask for a box or throw away/give away the remainder has been a huge success. Shopping in decreasing sizes doesn’t mean you have to purchase every size as you go down. I have gone from a 22/24 sometimes 26 down to a 12-16 depending on the store. I have gotten a lot of my clothes from friends at a clothing exchange. I have at times lost more inches than pounds so when i decide everything is too big I shop then i see a large jump from where i was to where I am. I’ve gone from an old navy xxl at my heaviest to a xl in bodycon dresses to a m in summer dresses. Which was a thrill. However, I don’t shop enough to purchase every size. In Jeans, I usually end up dropping 2 or 3 sizes when i shop since i wear them with a belt until they are insanely big. Weighing/measuring portions isn’t a bad thing. I actually want to upgrade my food scale to a nicer one. I use this daily. When I pack lunches for work I’m still packing too much. It is a shock to bring home half of what i pack. If i take a large back of something into my desk drawer I have to take a measuring device to portion it out or portion ahead of time. If not I fall into bad habits The scale isnt the only victory. If i lose inches and clothing fit better that is a win. Being able to take dresses from tunic tops to actually dresses with boots this winter has been fun. Regular knee-high boots not extra extended calf have been a thrill. Being able to handle heels regularly has been amazing. Going to the gym is fun with the right classes. Spend the extra for the gym with classes you might like. My family spends 86 per month on the YMCA instead of 40 for planet fitness locally. The Y has childcare and all the classes. I go to water aerobics, pure barre and body pump. I have a ton of fun at all 3. Plus as long as I go 12 times a month I get 20 back on membership. If my husband goes 12 times we get 20 back for him as well. SO it bring the Y down close to Planet fitness in cost plus it includes childcare and activities for my daughter as well. I can keep up with my co-workers who are almost half my age. I feel mentally sharper. I also can physically outdo some of them. I work in a department where we move some boxes of paperwork on a regular basis. As long as i’m not wearing a short skirt and the box isn’t over my head I can lift most. I have learned it is ok to ask for help with medical concerns. I am an insulin diabetic on a pump. I have had to reach out a few times for my data to be reviewed by my diabetic care team and be adjusted. My goals for year 2 are to: I plan to up my time at the Y. I currently go 2 times a week for me and then 2 times a week for my kid to use the pool. I want to get to 3 or 4 times a week for me and 2 times for my kid. Find someone to be accountable to forMonitoring the protein i get in daily- i should be getting between 60-90 grams of protein in dailyMy time spent at the gymMy food logs With my current partners consider adding those pieces into my dynamic with them. Not so much as to be babied by them but to know i’m being monitored. To Know i will be asked why i didnt do one of them some specific day. It is like the monitoring with my medications that we do currently. I want to get under 200 pounds. I have always been a BBW but i want to become closer to hwp. I want to be able to completely shop in straight sizes instead of still flipping between straight sizes and plus. I want to be able to get tied into more positions. In addition to being a masochist.

Created using the words from a conversation between Myself and a female Dom about who was a better dominant  . .   My books are the marks on your skin as I play   My dvds are your muscle twitches that dance   My music your sighs, and cries, as I touch with kisses of fire   That touch makes you lose your mind     My taunts change the weak girl into a strong sub   The glint in my eye fills you with an eagerness to please   For I am as constant, pure, cold and loving as a God.   I AM DOM   I am merciful, I give pain     These are the elements that inflame undreamt of submission   My domination transforms pain into devotion, into worship   The knowledge that you are owned burns to the core   I own, manipulate, crush and build.   I enrapture     I pry open your hidden self and give peace   I show the path and watch as you struggle to take it   I shall alight my lips on your skin and you will be reborn   I give you life afresh     Your history, your future, your now, all reside in ME   I give you freedom. You obey to belong  

i am at a start of a new trail, where will it lead? i do not know, but i do know that i walk a small step behind You. Looking towards You to guide me, that You will pull me into You with a simple look, a word, or a command. The journey from the self-indulgent creature i am to the slave beauty You desire.  A journey that will be fierce and difficult at times, one that will push me to the limit and past it, one that will find You throwing me off a cliff over and over again, to be waiting for me at the bottom, to catch me and say those two small words that make me want to please You more….”good slave”.  It’s amazing how two small words can cause my spirit to burst forth, two small words that make me want and need to fall on my knees in front of You, back straight, head held high, eyes cast downward,  legs spread apart and palms on thighs.You reinforce me to just how quickly i need this. How long it has been since i was truly in this mindset and just how wanton and needy i am.  A connection of energy, of trust and of honesty. It is framed by the mutual respect, adoration, and admiration felt by both and a great deep fulfilling love can be found in and through it. And in my life, i strive for that deepness, it beckons me, calls to me.

i have been going through hell for the past week. Yesterday was finally here and gone. Yeah, for that and thensome. i am so drained from the 15 hours of work put in for the day, cleaning the house, laundry and making 3 sets of beds from washing all the bedding (pillows, blankets, and sheets). Then this morning i got sick while sleeping and woke to it.... yes one can get sick and sleep through it. i was so dead tired that i woke sometime afterwards, so then i had to wash the bedding of mine, all over again........minus the pillows.  Good thing ijust had a duvet cover on my bed as a blanket, so no heavy comforter was needing washing again... phew. Now, i lay in bed, with a xour tummy i just fed screambled eggs and cheese. ..... Now that i think about it...... i wonder if my tooth pain is making me feel this way? those eggs were soooooooooooooo good the doggo's wanted them too, they were at me heels trying to get anytihng that would fall into my lap. lol Thank goodness for Friday. Now, Saturday is the next day from Hell.

The Weight of Three Minutes - An Erotic Short Story  The marble is cold under your knees. I designed the room precisely for this quality of cold, for the way it travels upward through a kneeling body and reminds it, without a word from me, of exactly where it is. The morning light moves across your bowed shoulders and finds the faint lines on your skin, my lines, exactly where I left them.   You hold the cup steady. I will give you that.   My fingers brush yours as I take it. A conductivity test, reading the current of you through brief contact. You do not tremble. Good. I bring the rim to my lips.   The first sip tells me everything. The base notes are correct, the Darjeeling first flush I require. But beneath it, the steep is wrong. Three minutes would have given me what I require. You gave me four. The tannins have opened in a way they should not have been permitted to, and the result is an astringency that sits at the back of the palate like a small, deliberate insult.   You know. You felt it before I tasted it, felt the error in the air the way a barometer feels weather. Your world has narrowed to the space between my slippered feet. Good. That is where it belongs.   I say your name. Just that.   "Yes, Goddess." The word hangs in the quiet room like an offering I have not yet decided to accept.   "The specifications are precise and they are not suggestions. Water temperature ninety degrees. Steep time three minutes. Measured. Not estimated. Not felt."   "Yes, Goddess."   "Explain the deviation."   The muscle in your jaw tightens. I catalog it. "The leaves were newer stock. I thought a longer steep would develop the flavor more fully. Bring out the muscatel notes you prefer."   "You thought."   I begin to circle you. Slowly. I am never in any hurry. I place my gaze on the back of your neck with the deliberate weight of something being pressed into soft material.   "You introduced variables. You assumed. Perfection does not accommodate feeling. The muscatel note I prefer is arrived at in precisely three minutes. Not your interpretation. Not your instinct. Three minutes, measured, as specified."   "A flaw in the cup is a flaw in the man. Do you doubt my parameters?"   "No, Goddess. Never."   But your fingers curl inward where they rest on your thighs. I see it. I note it. Nothing is too small to matter.   "Stand."   You rise in one fluid motion, taller than me, broader. And yet you make yourself smaller in my presence, as you have learned to do. It is one of the things I have built in you that I find most satisfying.   "Look at me."   Your eyes meet mine. The familiar desperate focus is there, the terror of demotion. But beneath it, a flicker. Not defiance. Something more interesting. A spark of independent thought, alive and un-extinguished.   My fingers, cool and precise, trace the line of your jaw. The shudder that moves through you is full-bodied and involuntary. Your breath catches.   "The grade for today's service is pending. We will see if the rest of your performance can correct the imbalance."   I turn toward the lounge. "Follow."   Two steps behind, as trained. The cage sits in its corner, black steel and clean lines, always the outer boundary of the visible world.   "Kneel here. You will remain until I have need of you. You will not speak. You will not move. You will contemplate the difference between three minutes and four."   You sink into position. Back straight, hands on thighs, head at the precise angle I have trained into you. You are, when you are like this, a beautiful object. I have made you that.   Not a muscle moves. Your breathing barely disturbs the air. Every resource of you pointed at the single task of being still enough to please me.   And yet. You chose to deviate. You chose to trust your own palate over my doctrine.   Something uncoils in my attention. Not anger. Sharper. Interest, which in my world is rarer and more dangerous than fury.   I say your name again, soft as a petal released from a great height.   Your eyes lift instantly.   "Come here."   You cross the distance on your knees and stop before me, your face level with my lap. You wait with your entire body.   "The grade is failing. A failing slave is placed in the cage. Denied touch. Denied sight."   Your throat moves. "Yes, Goddess."   "Do you wish to be caged?"   "I wish only what you wish, Goddess."   "That is not an answer. It is a recitation. The one who extended the steep had a wish. What was it?"   "I wished for it to be perfect for you. Not just correct. Perfect. The new harvest felt like an opportunity and I wanted to find something in it that you had not yet tasted."   There it is. Your ambition, layered over my specifications, believing itself generous.   I slide my fingers into your hair and close them. The breath that leaves you is unsteady. Your eyes close. "Your wish introduced error," I say, close to your ear. "Your personal pursuit of my pleasure contaminated the delivery of it. That is the failure."   I pull your head back. Your eyes open, wide, stripped of calculation. Simply present. Exposed. Looking up at the only person in your world who matters.   "And yet," my thumb finds the pulse hammering in your throat, "it was a beautiful ambition."   I release you.   "The grade remains failing. But the correction will be hands-on."   "Remove your shirt."

Lifestyle submissive man who is willing to accompany Me to munches and fetish clubs such as Pedestal.  Message me to get to know each other. First meet is at the Mawney Munch in Romford, Essex, England so live no more than an hour or so away. D/s FLR relationship sought with kink AFTER knowing each other at least SiX months. No instant gratification. I am on Fetlife so look at my profile. Also service sub sought for garden work. Mistress Whipplash Ma'am 

How many of us find the treasure we've sought for so long?  How many of us give up and just accept what is in front of us?  How many of us are truly sincere and willing to kiss a few frogs  while trying to find our kinky slave or the pearl.   Someone suggested I should put up a picture and that My feed would blow up.  That's not what I want.  Let's be real, the one or two or three I want may not be here, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Lol I'm sure there is a more up to date analogy.   Yet we persevere hopeful for a meaningful connection.  They are few and far between, but on ocassion we meet someone, strike up a conversation and even a friendship.   Where is the boy you want to beat when frustration is high?  Where is the slave You want to kneel and do whatever You  command? Where is the man you want to rub Your back and have a meaningful conversation with? it's a dichotomy, can you find both in the same individual or do You have a stable of eager boys ready to serve? Time to find what's right for Me!  The search continues.  Goddess

I feel like the majority of people on this site are clinging to an unachievable fantasy. There. I said it. Don't get me wrong... Kink, total power exchange, all of that stuff is GREAT, and I wouldn't be here if I didn't want that in my relationship. But so many people here seem to blow those things up into EXTREMES. We are all here ultimately seeking some form of relationship. Even if you want your relationship to entirely revolve around sex and kink and that is all you care about, it's still a relationship. Especially if you're seeking to be a live-in slave, how do you expect to fill the void when you're NOT in the middle of sex stuff? The emotional connection is SO IMPORTANT. Yes, it's important to me that my boy be cute and his looks match what I want, but I would get bored of him SO quickly if he had the personality of a potato. I know some of you want to be totally o b j e c t ified and locked away when you're not in use, which DOES sound hot and appealing, but I also feel that would get SO boring, lonely, and miserable after like... a week, if not a day. The kink and power exchange should definitely be present, but to me there is no satisfaction in owning someone without a soul. We are social creatures, and you should be giving more than just your body to me. The TOTAL o b j e c t ification stuff can be a fun activity we do sometimes and turn on and off as I please, but I just don't see the reality in centering a whole lifestyle around it. (Though the total power exchange element WOULD always be present. You are still my human after all!) If you plan to approach me, PLEASE be ready to talk about more than just sexual stuff. Be your authentic self, let your personality shine through, give me a sense of who you are and what you're all about! I promise it will make me want to own you all the more. My favorite people are the ones with lots of personality.

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

I’m real, single, and ready to meet. You should be too. Now, don’t get me wrong. Lots of people contact me about my profile and say job well done, I/we are like minded, BUT blah blah blah (I am taken, I am too old/young, I am too far, etc.). They respect the realities of the universe that have made us like minded, but not a match. I can respect that. I am certainly grateful for friends on this journey. This Journal entry is not addressing or discouraging friends. This is about those who express legitimate interest… So, I think my profile makes it clear… I am looking to date, I am looking to meet someone. I didn’t think I had to clarify after an in-depth profile such as the wone I wrote that I am not interested in you if you are married, living with someone, have a stead significant other, etc. Now, if you are “seeing” other people that is fine. Those other people should not be living in your house, sharing your bank account, doing your grocery shopping (unless it is for a date or something), paying for the renewal of the tags on your car, etc… “Seeing” someone means you are taking them to dinner, and possible having a good time after once in a while. “Seeing” someone means that person KNOWS you are “seeing” other people! If I call or text when you are with them, there is no need to hide your phone. I mean, I don’t expect you to respond or answer, you are spending time with someone else, that is fine, we aren’t an item, but I have enough self esteem I will not be the other woman, and I will not be hidden. If you will cheat on your wife, girlfriend, etc… You will eventually cheat on me too, and thus I am not interested in you. I am interested in loyalty, honesty, and devotion. How can one submit to someone who is offering anything less? Obviously, I don’t expect it day one. I will probably see other people for a time too. A bond must be built and that takes time. That being said… a bond isn’t built in messages on the web miles apart from someone I have never met in person. We might send messages a lot after meeting because you travel or something, but meeting in person is crucial to me. The internet is far too anonymous and there are far too many players out there. Heck, I had a guy wait until our third in person date once to finally admit he was married! It was because he couldn’t maintain the in person dating, he finally had to come clean though. He would have spoken with me for a year online had I let it continue that route… So, I am not a huge electron communication person. I also hate phones. I will even schedule my doctor’s appointments via the web if I can. Phones are used to call if I am lost getting where we planned to meet, or if I am running late and need to text to let you know. I don’t send kinky or risqué picture via the web or phone. I don’t use snapchat… where all communication disappears before your wife can see it. We send a few emails, seem to be hitting it off, then why should we share everything in more emails? What will we talk about when we get together? Continuing to chat online is going to leave me awkward and silent with nothing left to talk about in person. Left get some coffee, have dinner, see a movie. Let’s get out of the house! Yes, I know I say I raid (game) 5 nights a week… Only two of those nights are nights I feel I really can’t skip right now, and raid doesn’t start until 8:30 at night, and those are nights in the middle of the week… so if you really want to be drinking coffee that late at night, in the middle of the week, I will see what I can to lol. If one more guy tells me, well, I have a significant other, but the relationship is dead, has been for some time, but it is complicated… and in the same breath, tells me he wants to be my Dom, and manage my world… Get your house in order before you enter mine which is already in order. I am worn out on chatting with guys who seem amazing, lead me on, but are just using me as their side joy because they are unhappy in a relationship, they have no intention of leaving. Again, if you would hurt her by chatting with me… what are you going to do to me one day? Are there any good ones left at my age? Should I just give up the search? Guys… fish or cut bait. Show me you aren’t married lol. Show me you aren’t running around on your girlfriends. Show me it is worth the time and effort to continue investing myself in some of these conversations that start to feel sketchy… Pick a coffee house and tell me when we are going!

The meanest man that I never knew From the day I walked on the floor, all of the staff warned me about you. They said you were a mean old man, it's best to always enter the room with two. He is grouchy, and hateful, and always a mess,  he refuses to let you change him, and gets quite ugly when you have to force him to. he always has chew in his mouth, be careful they said, he will even spit at you. I walked in and introduced myself, my name is Sarah and I'm new here,  it's nice to meet you. he ignored my hand and grunted as a response, I smiled and said, I'll be back to check on you. My first night, he grumbled at first,  we got the lift and changed the meanest man I never knew. we stuck to the routine for a short while, when at three a.m. and making some rounds, I hear a man yell, hey, so I stopped and turned around. I walked into his room, all alone, he looked at me warily, and said I'm ready to be changed. I couldn't help but smile at him, the meanest man I never knew, progress is progress, and he was beginning to trust me too. I asked the others, what his story was, they proceded to tell me of his past some spoke with disdain as they tarnished his reputation, no stone is ever left unturned in a small town population. Our routine continued at three a.m. and then at six, before I realized it, he allowed me to tend to him every two hours.at the least, and most days he even greets me with a smile and seems happy to see me. As time went on I noticed a pattern, the girls would give me report, and say with a smile, that the meanest man I never knew, refused to let them give him care  and said he is waiting for you. Covid came in the building and as it swept through, it got ahold of him and then me too. we were short staffed and there was no one left to call, so they allowed me to come in and stay only with the positive patients to work. That night we made a pitiful pair, but I held his hand, and gave him a pep talk, I told him we were in this together and we had to fight our way through, he squeezed my hand, and said, I don't feel good, but I'll fight with you. it was touch and go for awhile, I really didn't think he would make it, but, true to his word, he fought his way through, this meanest man that I never knew. time had passed and he never was quite the same and over the next several months, he slowly began to deteriorate. he became very clingy and held my hand when he talked, he often pulled me in for hugs he even told me he loved me once. his time was drawing near, the signs were plain to see, the meanest man I never knew was Tired and in pain he was ready to go but afraid at the same time he had no family left, he was all alone. I came back to work after my days off, the Girls said he was still hanging on and that they thought he was waiting for me. I made my rounds and sat with him in between  I held his hand for the last time  as the meanest man I never knew  took his last breath with his hand in mine.

I seek a Gentleman Being a Gentleman: Today, being a gentleman is a matter of choice. It is a title you earn through an unwavering commitment to invest in your character. It is not about perfection, but a constantly renewed pursuit of excellence.  Gentlemen are not stiff, pretentious, or focused on elevating themselves. Instead, they strive to succeed while helping those around them succeed as well.  Being a gentleman means that you care about how your choices impact others. It is about human connection. At a recent professional event, I was introduced to a man who dressed impeccably and had been working the room like a pro. His handshake was appropriate, and our initial conversation was pleasant, but he quickly became boastful, stopped listening, and seemed unaware of the people around him. Before my eyes, he transformed from a gentleman into a banty rooster—all puff and little substance. Sadly, he was unable to connect in a meaningful way. Our world is in desperate need of more gentlemen. Those who choose to pick up this torch are not only performing a noble feat, but they also reap incredible rewards. The qualities of a gentleman never go out-of-style and pay huge dividends. Qualities of a gentleman:     Generous A gentleman is generous with his time, wisdom, and resources. He looks for ways to help others. He is a servant leader, and his commitment to interpersonal kindness creates a positive culture that boosts commitment, engagement, and performance.     Positive A gentleman chooses to be positive. His positivity is contagious, and his consistent encouragement draws others to him. He practices gratitude, which research shows lowers his blood pressure, improves immune function, reduces stress hormones, and facilitates better sleep.     Lifelong Learner A gentleman maintains a teachable posture and actively seeks new challenges. His intellectual curiosity propels him to constantly better himself and his craft through reading, coaching, ongoing education, and time spent with mentors. He turns off the T.V. and silences his phone to make time for this investment. He is emotionally mature, mentally sharp, informed, and not ashamed to ask for help.     Civil A gentleman embraces civility by valuing all people and treating everyone with respect. From the janitor to the CEO, he carefully considers how his behavior and words impact others. He treats females and males with the same respect.      Well-Mannered A gentleman is well-mannered, and can effortlessly navigate social and professional settings with confidence and proficiency. He stays abreast of current etiquette guidelines, and uses social acumen to navigate shifting norms. As a result, he is as comfortable at a casual gathering with friends as he is in the boardroom. He returns his shopping cart, says “please” and “thank you,” holds doors open for others, tips generously, and smiles often.     Hard & Smart Worker A gentleman possesses a strong work ethic.  He takes great pride in his work and strives to give his very best every day. He is reliable, dedicated, self-disciplined, humble, and a team player. He leads and is led well. People want him on their team.     Sharp Appearance A gentleman understands the power of his appearance—that the way he chooses to dress, groom, and carry himself is either a bridge or a barrier to his success because what people see, is what they expect. He takes no days off from excellence, and his consistently sharp appearance demonstrates respect for himself and his environment, wherever he may be. He conducts an annual image audit to ensure that his appearance is up-to-date and supports his goals.     Effective Communicator A gentleman is well-spoken and a focused listener. He demonstrates conversational competence and leaves others feeling inspired, engaged, and understood. He manages his tone and body language to maximize connection. He knows that hearing is a passive physical process, but listening is an active mental process that requires work. As a result, he strives to really listen to what people have to say while also effectively communicating his point of view.     Confident A gentleman is confident in that he knows the value of what he brings to the table. He seeks competence, not perfection. His body language and commanding personal presence identify him as a leader. He stands upright, walks with purpose, avoids hiding his hands in his pockets, and extends a firm handshake.     Person of Integrity A gentleman does the right thing even when no one is watching. He is a man of his word, and is not swayed by peer pressure or popular opinion. The man he is at work is the same person you will encounter in the community and at his home. Ask yourself: How do you want to be remembered?

sacred symphony: where love, lust, and devotion meet i’ve found myself at the crossroads of neurodivergence, spirituality, and kink—a meeting place where dominance isn’t just about power but about the profound and unending interplay of trust, ownership, and devotion. writing about these experiences feels like capturing the essence of an eternal union, where love, lust, and passion merge with spiritual and physical commitment to create a connection that transcends the fleeting and becomes permanent. this isn’t about navigating the surface of dating; it’s about diving into the sacred depths of what it means to fully belong to one another—body, mind, and soul. it’s about exploring devotion as an act of ultimate union, a fusion of spiritual and carnal energies that defy time and space. through my words, i seek to articulate the beauty and power of a connection that isn’t just a relationship but a lifelong symphony of surrender, love, and sacred commitment.  

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

My Fool, My Leash, My Afternoon - a Fantasy for a Future slave   The morning of the faire I lay his costume out on the bed with the particular satisfaction of a woman who has planned something she intends to enjoy thoroughly. The motley is excellent, deep jewel tones, the bells on the collar catching the light, the cut of it deliberately absurd in the way that only works on a man with genuine physical presence. Foolishness on an unimpressive man reads as foolishness. Foolishness on a man like him reads as theater, as choice, as the most interesting thing in any room he enters. He understands this. He puts it on without comment, with the quiet dignity he brings to everything I ask of him, which is itself part of what makes it so delicious. The leash attaches to his collar with a sound I find unreasonably satisfying. I am wearing the corset, deep burgundy with black lacing, the kind of construction that does what good corsetry always does: makes the architecture of a woman into an argument that cannot be refuted. My skirts are full, my shoulders bare, and I carry myself the way I carry myself everywhere, which is to say as though the ground has been expecting me specifically. We make, I think, an extraordinary pair. The Goddess and her Fool. The implicit story of us readable to anyone with eyes and the wit to use them. He walks two steps behind me and slightly to my left, the leash held loosely in my right hand, and I feel the particular pleasure of his presence the way you feel good weather: as a condition of the atmosphere, something that improves everything around it simply by existing. The faire opens around us in all its chaotic, fragrant, anachronistic glory and I move through it with the unhurried ease of a woman who has nowhere to be except exactly here. It is the stocks that I have been thinking about since I planned this outing. They are positioned in the center of the square, heavy oak weathered to silver, historically accurate in their construction and entirely available for use by willing participants. I steer us toward them with the gentle but unambiguous redirection of the leash, and he feels the change in direction and does not ask where we are going. He has learned not to ask where we are going. "In you go," I say pleasantly, nodding to the attendant, who opens the upper board with the cheerful efficiency of someone who has done this many times and finds it no less entertaining for the repetition. He folds himself into position. The board comes down. His wrists and neck are held, his posture suddenly and completely at the mercy of the construction, and I step around to face him with my hands clasped lightly in front of me and look at him with the full and unhurried attention I reserve for things I am enjoying very much. He looks up at me from his locked position with that expression. The one I have catalogued. The one that contains too many things to name. I lean down until we are level, my face close to his, close enough that the bells on his collar would brush my cheek if either of us moved. Around us the faire continues its noise and color, children running, merchants calling, the distant sound of a lute being played with more enthusiasm than skill. No one stops. Several people look. Some smile. I do not acknowledge any of them. "Comfortable?" I ask. "No, Goddess." "Good." I straighten and produce from the small bag at my wrist a piece of the honeyed pastry I purchased at the last stall, and I eat it slowly, with evident pleasure, directly in front of him. He watches. The bells are very still. "You look," I say thoughtfully, tilting my head, "exactly right." A small crowd has gathered at a comfortable distance, the way people gather around anything that has the quality of performance, and I am aware of them the way I am aware of weather, peripherally, without concern. I reach out and adjust the bells on his collar with one finger, a gesture so proprietary and so casual that I hear the quality of his exhale change completely. "We will stay here," I inform him, "until I finish my pastry and decide I want to see the falconers. Which gives you approximately," I pause, taking another unhurried bite, "as long as it takes me to eat this." He says nothing. His eyes do not leave my face. The afternoon light falls across the faire in long gold bars and my corset is exactly right and my fool is exactly where I put him and I am, in this moment, precisely as content as a woman who has arranged her Saturday exactly to her specifications has every right to be. I take a very small bite.   I am in no hurry at all.