An evening, recalled by the lady, written by me.It was late afternoon and it had been a tough day at the Commission. His kiss when he met me at the station was warm and affectionate; we chatted on the way to the hotel and as we checked in. When we arrived in the room I dumped my stuff on the bed and went out onto the veranda to look out over the lake. A few minutes later I heard him say ‘come here please’. I turned to see him with an impassive look on his face and standing in the middle of the room pointing at the floor just in front of his feet. He took hold of me around my waist and as he kissed me deeply, his hands travelled from my waist down my hips and across my bottom. Then up my back to my neck and then he felt my hair. He murmured ‘give me your tongue’ and I slipped it between his teeth. He nipped it and held it between his upper teeth and tongue. It was uncomfortable but not painful, he had done it often before and I had grown to like it. His hands resumed their journey around my upper body. They were firm, confident and moved without any hesitation. I could not have ed even if I had wanted too and the welcome feeling of melting inside began. He then released my tongue, kissed my lips then he turned me around and bent me over so my elbows were on the bed. He lifted my skirt and folded it over my back. His hands then roved freely over my bottom and between my thighs. He felt my mons, traced the line of my slit and ran his fingertips between down the crease between my buttocks, pausing to press on my anus. He then held me firmly against his thigh and began to spank me- this had recently become a regular beginning to our time together. One spank per cheek, then two, then three, they landed on my upper thighs and the curve of my bottom. He stopped at six and spent a few minutes gently rubbing my bottom, occasionally slipping his hand between my thighs. At ten per cheek it was stinging a lot. By twelve I was having difficulty keeping still. It was the knowledge that if I moved he would start again that kept me in position. The spanking was not unexpected and it had the desired effect. I felt myself starting to melt inside even more as he rubbed my stinging bottom and thighs once again. He stopped and made me stand. Then looked me in the eye, and then said ‘I have a few issues to resolve with you’. My stomach took a lurch, I’d been here before, he had shown no sign of real annoyance with me recently but then he never really did. He took me by the chin, looked into my eyes and said ‘strip and kneel’. He then turned and went to the veranda. It only took a minute to remove all my clothes and jewellery. I knelt, apprehensive about his return, embarrassed it had been a warm day; I had been wearing tights and had not had the time to wash and prepare myself for him. My make up had gone and I knew I did not look my best. He returned and pushed me forward to my knees and elbows. Pulling back my hair he locked my leather collar around my neck. It felt strange after the long break since I last wore it. The wrist cuffs were fitted next before he clipped them behind my back pinioning my wrists. He pulled my collar by its short leash to make me kneel up and then buckled a gag around my neck and pushed the red ball behind my teeth before tightening   it. He turned me so my back was to the mirror and placed a low backed chair in front of me. He could now see both the back and front of me. Sitting on the chair he told me to part my thighs wide and to emphasise the point his foot nudged my knees wide apart. I hoped he wasn’t going to touch me between my thighs as he so loved too, I so regretted not taking a shower immediately we arrived in the room. From his pocket he took some butterfly style nipple clips. I hate them and he knows it, he threaded their chain into the ring at the front of my collar and after pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger to make them fully erect he clipped one to each nipple. The discomfort was almost unbearable, I instinctively closed my thighs, and he ed and gently tugged the chain, sending sharp jolts through me. I did as I was told and spread my thighs wide, pushing my mons forward as far as I could. The gag muffling my weak protests. He spoke slowly, jerking the chain on saying each word. ‘Three weeks ago you forgot your make up, two weeks ago your stockings, last week your high shoes. You have arrived in my company wearing tights for the last 4 weeks, hence the immediate spankings. You have not kissed or greeted me properly on meeting for the same length of time. You make up today is poor, your hair isn’t brushed and you have not left your pubic hair as I instructed. In short young lady you are marring your beauty. You are fully aware how beautiful I think you are and you are distracting from it by being sloppy and that disappoints me. I will not accept you detracting from the pleasure I take in having such a desirable woman as my lover. Do you understand?’ I nodded, my eyes starting to water from the discomfort in my nipples and the realisation of how I had disappointed him. There was also the knowledge that I had been here before and if it followed a similar pattern then this was the case against me. By nodding I admitted my guilt. So I was about to punished for being a sloppy and inattentive submissive who had disappointed her Dominant.  He helped me to my feet by lifting me by the collar on my ring; it also had the effect of tugging on my nipples. He reversed his chair and tugged the chain as he removed each nipple clip. It stung as the blood filled each nipple, my knees almost buckled each time, the gag muffling the g. He then connected my wrists cuffs in front of me, and bent me over the back of his chair so my weight rested on my elbows. ‘Part your legs’ he said, I complied and hoped he would decide to have me, not cane me. I was to be disappointed, though recently spanked I accepted I had earned this too. He fetched a cane from his bag as I waited anxiously. Holding the back of my collar he rested the cane against my bottom, drew it back and struck me. ‘One‘ he said. All I did was hear the sound then the harsh sting reached my brain! He was using the flat cane.  A piece of flexible wood two feet long, an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick. It didn’t leave tram lines or scars; I knew its stinging would last for ages and leave a square red mark on each buttock, but it would not bruise very much. Not that it seemed important at that moment. Though I find the cane painful, the thonged whip he occasionally uses is worse. Its thick strands inflict weal’s and their tips can get into the most intimate parts of my body. I’ve also known him use it on my breasts and belly. Each cane stroke went slightly lower until the last 3 all struck where the tops of my thighs and my bottom met. My legs kicked out from the stinging, by now I had dribbled spittle around the gag, my eyes were streaming and my nose had started to run. He let go the back of my collar and returned the cane to his bag. Returning he pulled me upright by my collar and turned me to face him. I refused to look him in the eye; I must have looked a real mess. He took my chin again forcing me to look into his eyes. I felt so ashamed of my appearance. He had told me I was beautiful so very often and it made me feel so proud when he said it. Now I had let him down by being too complacent. He unclipped the wrist cuffs, reattaching then in front. He said ‘Do you understand what I have told you?’ I nodded. ‘Then get down on your belly on the floor and spread your legs, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ My mind raced, would it be the whip now, on my bottom? I knelt and lay on the floor, my bottom was really stinging and the carpet was rough against my sore nipples, my belly and mons. I spread my thighs wide, dipped my spine and waited. I heard the pop of a tube of lubricant being opened. It wasn’t the whip!! The lube felt cold against my anus as he applied just enough. He undressed, I could feel him looking at my prone body, the line of my sex and the rose of my anus. I was fully exposed because it was how he wanted me to be. He knelt between my thighs and pumped his cock to make the head larger. He spread my bottom cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock against my anus with the other. The tip entered me, it was so uncomfortable. I had forgotten how tight a caning made the cheeks of my bottom clench. He pushed into me, stretching me. I struggled and tried to object; he held me and reminded me of the presence of the whip. Once he was past the muscular ring I relaxed as the discomfort subsided somewhat; I felt the cool of his skin against my hot bottom. He reached and took hold of my hair and collar, pulling them back. At the first slow thrust he said ‘one’. The thrusts were slow and firm, they made my bottom sting though my anus soon adapted to the presence of his cock. He told me to squeeze my buttocks together as he withdrew his cock, and relax as he thrust in. I tried to do so; each time I failed he added two extra thrusts. He was punishing me and reminding me of his dominance by not taking pleasure from the stimulation my anus could give him. It was a reminder that sexual pleasure could not be an excuse for a lack of submission. It was a relief when he reached 100 and stopped counting and thrusting. I was glad he was no longer forcing my nipples against the rough carpet, and his tummy was no longer making my sore bottom sting more. But I immediately missed the closeness and intimacy of the man I so wanted yet had disappointed. He pulled me to my feet by my collar, removed the ball gag and lifted my chin. I must have looked a real mess as I worked my jaw to stop it aching, I certainly felt a mess and I promised him and myself not to let my appearance or behaviour slip again. He kissed me and said he loved me; I’m not sure if it made me feel any better- or if it was supposed to! He led me by the arm into the bathroom and told me to wash his cock and balls. I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous! Mascara running, the marks of the gag around my mouth, spittle around my chin and collar and my nose running! I looked away ashamed as he wet a towel to clean the lube from between my buttocks. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror and rubbed the wet towel firmly between my buttocks, it stung where it touched the red marks.  I heard him say, ‘You have 30 minutes until dinner. Be ready on time.’ I knew that I would make him the proudest man alive when he let me take his arm to dinner. 30 minutes wasn’t long. But I so wanted to see that look of desire in his eyes that I would ensure I was just as he wanted me to be. I knew just how good he would make me feel in return. He went to the veranda to watch the sun set. I set to work, though I did sneak a look at the red marks on my bottom. They made me feel strangely proud because they were his marks and I had submitted to him. He had put them there and there was nothing I could have done about it even if I wanted to. Now I didn’t know what he was going to do with me later, but after being disciplined he always had something special planned for me! 

Let's make on thing crystal clear; all Bulls are tops but not all tops are Bulls. A Bull is a tamer of men and a trainer. Str8 men are a very complex lot to generalize about them. However, in my years I realized that for many str8 males is more titillating to get mounted than to suck a dick. Perhaps because for them is a test of strength and resistance versus kneeling in front of a cock and worshipping it, which triggers all the bad epithets of their lives "cock sucker." For many males to go beyond an insult that they most likely used as a putdown is the ultimate humiliatiation; go figure. Even in cuckolding scenes males react the same way and it is the ultimate degradation. The taming of males is not new, look at Bootcamp in the armed forces and also in sports teams, as I mentioned in another journal. In reality the idea is the same to break all barriers and build a man that is moldavble and ready to respond to the Master's touch, voice, and ministrations.  Most str8 males wonder about the idea of M2M sex and bonding and in many instances it will require for the Bull to mount and all out assault to their sense of masculinity and heterosexuality. That's where a good Bull is at its best. Moving and creating a serious doubt about the above mentioned issues. I've seen those walls stumble like a house of cards. The first realization is the answer to the question, who is the best man? and if a Bull really is what he claims, he will always be the best Man in all circumstances. In my experience in cuckolding situations the husband wants cock but will deny that inclination at all cost. Yet, if he is "forced by the wife" he can save whatever shred of dominance he thought he had. Once that resistance is bridged you will realize that in the intimacy of the afterglow of sex they become cuddly like a puppy. moreover, only a Bull with restore somewhat the lost masculinity as he understands it. Working towards that goal he will follow you to the end of the world with you owning his full sexuality. He will perhaps go back to his wife or gfs but he will always be yours to mount and breed. It is always so pleasurable to send them back home well fucked and stretched and unable to ejaculate because between the two only on breed and it is not him. As a Bull you know he is yours any way you want. However, outside only him will feel your poorer and control. Even if he go back to women which is his choice , he will mount them imitating you and doing it for you.  I had the pleasure of a baby named afterr me, and that’s the ultimate surender. It is his baby., now a teen, but every time he calls him he calls me. A male who loves you is a treasure to be had and a partner to nurture and possess beyond the physical.

I think it's much better to share about myself through this journal entry and not gamble with updating my profile and sending it to the verification hell! Hmmmm so a few tid bits about me: I am an educated person (I know the difference between there and their and get this, even affect and effect! Impressive right?! I know...) I have registered my orientation here as switch but if I can elaborate more into it, I am a primal sensualist who's a noetisexual and demisexual. Ok I am not just throwing around these big words to sound chic! Talk to me and you will realise what I mean by all of that. I like having conversations, for real. I am an introvert by nature but when I feel like I have something in common with the other person or they have shared something about themselves that intrigues me, I will talk and talk AND talk about it. I want the connection, the interaction between two people to be genuine. It's only then we get to know about true selves of one another.  According to Myers - Briggs I am an INFJ.  I like playing chess, sudoku, crosswords and love reading poems. YES, I AM REALLY 29 YEARS OLD. I am not much concerned with finding age appropriate people to interact with. My experience has told me that a conversation with a 20 something can be as engaging as with a 50 something. That will reflect in the people I approach here. Ofcourse I am aware and respectful of the fact that every person's want here is different, and that's why I don't mind if I don't get a message back.  If you haven't become impressed by now, well, just read those 6 points again. 

As required by my Dom, I publicly declare the following: I am subMeghan, and as I type this this, I am completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… Today’s Journal Topic Is: Why The Fuck Haven’t I Posted Any More Journal Updates! I actually get this question a lot.  Unfortunately, that’s part of the problem.  Apparently, you guys are actually reading my journals!  And why, pray tell, is that a bad thing? Well, I’m going to tell you… When I first started journaling here, I wrote as if I was speaking into the void.  I wasn’t writing for an audience, rather I was writing merely for the sake of publicly letting my inner thoughts leave my body and go forth into the vast e-universe.  I thought I was just a “voice in the wilderness” to be lost in the chasm of anonymity. It was a stream of consciousness, a flow of thoughts. It was kinda like talking outloud to yourself, not thinking anyone was listening. However… that was not the case...  You were listening.  And now you all had access to the part of my psyche that I kept hidden away, kept in the shadows, away from “polite” society.  And worse yet…  You had questions! I had mistakenly thought that CS was just another fetish website that was here today, and then be gone tomorrow like so many other sites.  Boy, was I wrong.  LOL I stopped writing because I became very self-conscious.  VERY self-conscious.  I quickly ran away from the spotlight as soon as I felt it’s light upon my exposed soul.  Who the hell am I to have the audacity to think I have anything of substance to say to a listening world? I have never liked being the center of attention.  I am a wallflower, the kind of gal that always stands at the edges of a crowd.  I am quiet, reserved, and passive.  I am a watcher, an observer - not a performer.  And certainly not, heaven forbid, an extrovert! Over time, I’ve been able to reflect.  I’ve decided to start posting again.  I suspect the tone of my journal entries will change, much like Schrodinger's cat, now that I am aware that I’m being watched.  We’ll see.  I will let this journal entry be the start of a new chapter in subMeghan’s ongoing adventure. Here’s to the journey! subMeghan    

Too many of you are confused — begging to be subs one minute, acting like wannabe Doms the next. All these hidden intentions are getting annoying. I don’t do pissing contests with little boys. Either serve or stay out of my inbox Having a handful of internet subs doesn’t make you a Dom — it just makes you loud online. Real dominance shows in how you carry yourself, not in how many chatroom pets you collect

Unleash Your Desires Are you ready to explore the depths of your desires? Are you seeking a connection that transcends the ordinary? If so, this message is for you. Introducing an extraordinary chance for a woman who is self-assured and possesses a unique understanding of her own needs. I am looking for a submissive woman who craves a genuine and profound connection. In a lifestyle where a true connection is often elusive, I assure a safe and respectful relationship where your desires can be fully embraced. My foundation is built on trust, communication, and mutual consent. Imagine a relationship where your deepest fantasies can be openly expressed, without judgment or reservation. A sanctuary where your needs are cherished and your desires are honored. I am a compassionate and experienced Alpha, ready to embark on this journey with you. Together, we will explore the boundaries of pleasure and submission, unlocking new levels of intimacy and fulfillment. If you are a strong-willed woman who seeks a safe Dom who embraces your submissive desires, I invite you to contact me. Let us create an extraordinary connection, where trust and exploration intertwine.  Take a leap of faith and discover a world of fulfillment you never thought possible. Contact me today and begin your journey toward a profound connection.

Life has been quite the tumult lately, with my father's heart attack turning our world upside down. Amid the anxiety and the worry, the hospital visits, and the sleepless nights, I've been shouldering the responsibility of my father's shop of beautiful Indian dresses. It's been challenging, but also rewarding in a unique way, connecting me to my Indian roots and my father's passion. As if managing the shop and our home wasn't enough, I've also been grappling with my own emotional journey. As you know, Diary, my late husband introduced me to the world of BDSM, a journey we had just begun exploring together before his untimely passing. I've found solace and a sense of liberation in the dynamics, the play, and the trust required in such relationships. We had our own special names in our BDSM dynamic. He would call me his 'Cherished One', a name that symbolized his respect, love, and the care he took of me. In turn, I called him 'My Guardian', my protector, my guide in this new world. These names weren't just labels; they were expressions of our bond, our trust, and our shared journey into a world that was both thrilling and nurturing. Now that I'm ready to venture back into this world, I've been receiving messages from individuals and couples who are interested in exploring these dynamics with me. However, what I've noticed is that some of them resort to titles and names in their initial messages without establishing a rapport first. While I appreciate their interest, I firmly believe that such names and titles need to be built on a foundation of mutual respect, understanding, and consent. Being addressed with a name that I haven't agreed to feels disrespectful and unsettling. So,,that's how life is going right now - a whirlwind of emotions, responsibilities, and new experiences. I'm still learning, still navigating my way through all this, trying to find a balance between my duties, my self-care, and my desires. Here's hoping the road ahead becomes a bit smoother.

 MissDAR