These things fill my submissive dreams:My partner wants to lead a relationship based on a happy friendship and sharing positive feelings.My partner enjoys using chastity to satisfy her need to possess her lover. She enjoys being center of attention when she wears clothes that men cannot ignore, especially me. She wants a partner who submits to her excitement for taking control physically using locks and keys.She would like to use her man's sexual energy to teach him to obey her. She want license to be persuasive on her terms.She is willing to take time to acknowledge my service with little erotic rewards even when she is tired. Words are enough.She is interested in putting mutual health activities into our shared routines of life for which we are both responsible.I'd be happy to do yoga, massage and connective breathing as our most frequent intimate activities.I enjoy being appreciated for my sexual arousal as a compliment to you at the same time I enjoy being denied sex as sincere submission to you.I'd like to demonstrate my experience with turning arousal in chastity into the intense desire to make you happy in non-sexual ways.I feel loved when locked in chastity but still want to make love when you decide to take it off. Please lock it up when you are done.I want to believe that you require chastity to prevent masturbation so that I stay fully erect when you want me to be.I am enchanted to believe you like chastity because it prevents anyone else from tempting me, that you now own me without question.The chastity does not need to eliminate having sex, but to control when. A woman who blocks male masturbation is never lonely. It is an easy way to encourage a man to give more hugs and better kisses if he is thinking about sex but cannot touch himself anymore.

So many uneducated to kink, fantisizing boys out there. Apparently they hover like lost gohsts waiting for their versions of heaven. They have no clue how to actually meet a Domme. Time wasters, taking up space trying to fill in their cookie-cutter cartoon figure of the leather clad evil queen who will not make any trouble after they are satiated. Huummm, wow, thats a ProDomme, Not one of us everyday, living the lifestyle women.  A  fairly insightful post on the FetLife site. A suggested read fo all subs. https://fetlife.com/whytheydanced/posts/12285859 . Also look up 2KinkyWomen.com poscast. Episodes 12,42,44. The other podcasts are good for overall education. Good luck to you all. Read the profiles a couple of times. Actually live close enough to drive to Me. Otherwise, do not even bother wasting both of our time.  H  

They both took the training sessions seriously. One hour, every Saturday morning, when he stopped by freshly showered on the way home from the gym. She'd be awake, browsing porn in bed, hungrily awaiting his arrival. She had spent her early adulthood living within the confines of strict parents, and only now was she finally out on her own, with her own place where she could indulge the fantasies she'd harbored for years.  But now she was nervous. Would she be too inexperienced? Would the men laugh at her? She wanted practice first. He knew a good arrangement when he found it. He didn't ask for anything more than the agreement provided. He was discreet. He encouraged her progress, talked her through her doubts, and unleashed her long-hidden needs. Most of all, he had the stamina to hold out until she'd completed her lesson. He knew how to communicate exactly what he wanted.  Each week they'd review her lessons from the past week, and then he'd teach her a new technique or variation. He taught her to use her tongue, use her lips, to make it last, to swallow, to clean up every drip, and to make eye contact when she thanked him afterwards. She'd been mediocre at first, of course, but now after only two months he was a reasonable cocksucker. Maybe even a good one. Her inexperience meant she was a blank slate, with no bad habits.  Soon she'd be an extraordinary ball drainer. Her future partners and husband would benefit from her training for decades to come.

he House Doctrine of Master George Part 2 of 2 ( you should read part 1 first) A Journal Entry for the Instruction of Slaves and the Record of My Household Philosophy House Principles The following principles govern daily life here: Obedience is Immediate – Commands are executed without delay or question. Respect is Constant – Tone, body language, and actions must always reflect the honor of this house. Service is Sacred – From the smallest chore to the most ceremonial duty, every act of service is performed with devotion. Discipline is a Gift – Correction is not punishment for its own sake, but a tool to refine you into what I desire. The Master’s Word is Final – My authority is absolute in all matters. The Nature of This Life Slavery, as I define it, is not a role that can be “turned off.” It does not begin when you kneel and end when you stand. It is constant. It is lived in every breath, every movement, every thought. It is not about chains, though chains may be used; it is about the mental and emotional bond of ownership. The gift you offer me is your complete surrender. In return, I give you stability, belonging, protection, and purpose. I will push you harder than you think you can endure — and in doing so, I will reveal to you a strength you never knew you had. Final Word To be my slave is to step into a life defined by clarity and purpose. It is to give up the burden of aimless decision-making and take on the honor of service. It is not a life for the weak, nor for the half-committed. But for those who are ready, the rewards are beyond measure. When you kneel before me, you do not kneel in defeat. You kneel in acceptance — and in that acceptance, you will rise to become exactly what you were meant to be.   Signed, Master G

12/04/2021   After a long ass time, I've finally returned to the site, to find the best possible option available to me, a journal entry system. I'll start by clarifying a few things, since I seem to get enough messages, no I am not a bot, yes I can tell when someone is a bot, and no I did not originally write the initial profile descriptions.  To be blunt, I was not the most supportive person when it came to this site, and didn't feel like getting involved. However, my former partners at the time, far more reserved than they come to appear in older versions of the profile, disagreed and decided that I need to replace them with someone else.  I am looking for a partner to have fun with, but more than that, I am looking to continue experiencing life...which hasn't been easy these last two years. Just when I was getting more involved on this site, the pandemic hit and made some things more difficult. I will admit to still looking for a creative "excercise" partner, and welcome anyone who'd like to join me.A lot of people had similar issues it seems, but I'll be here, clean and vaccinated, being as safe as I can and encourage all others to be the same.    Onto the juicy bits if y'all are still reading. I am still an Active Dom, last two years were rough but not without some interesting meetups, you'd be surprised at how many submissives are in the medical field and are desperate for some kind of release and feed into their fetish to alieviate the issues as of late, and I can't say I blame them given what I've seen of the emergency wards and the Covid floors.  Though my original profile entry is a bit more crass and disjointed than I'd have liked, I am still looking forward to meeting some folks here, and would more than welcome the opporotunity to engage in the community once more, Send me a message if ya wanna chat, game, or do whatever.

16/06/2024   Pigs, Rats, Useless Pathetic male vermin! loosers,  When will u ever learn?  When u write to this UK Dominant Mistress SuperBITCH keep in mind.... YOU ARE NOT A FRIEND<> U mean NOTHING to HER, what would SHE want with a useless and pathetic bitch like u???  SO...... your only hope to get your Mistress and SHE of your wet dreams interested in you is to write a begging mail and in it Mistress wants to see, NO, DEMANDS to see, a show of submission and surrender to her, so get your grubby hands off of your useless little cocks (which Mistress will soon have locked up and you WILL surrender the keys to HER) and write a nice begging mail and hope that SHE WHO WILL BE OBEYED finds an interest in you. Helpful hint from Mistress Davinia, SuperBITCH!....  only 1 in 14 applicants get through this first faze of HER Strict Training Programme, and Mistress receives about 20-30 applicants per week!!

 6-6-2026 PART 2 of 2 . He does give me respite and that can be for a few days and I feel quiet normal. Normally G-d lets me suffer and He likes to channel it into deep prayer. Last year He took that passion and it morphed into begging for El's life. For the first time in my life the pain was now let out in a way that I felt was redemptive and not corrosive. Mass became my new go. NO need for clubs for a whipping or sex. It was a place to beg for answers, not lose myself in ignorance. I know I AM FIRE. What has confused me is why men who knew it when they first mated with me, then choose to destroy it? Except for El' they all had mistresses and lovers.. They all 'stepped out' as the saying goes. So they still had a way to let their heat find a release. I was no angel between men either. I had small windows after of singlehood and I was what we could call a slut. But after El' in 2022 I went to Africa, I did not find a lover or go to the sex-clubs or BDSM-clubs. Yes, I was also ill, but that was not the reason. Because G-d was my Master and He was burning me alive and I let Him do it. I would spread eagle on the bed because of the heat rising from me. The dogs would flee from the intensity, as they could feel the shift. NO, it was not menopause. This was a deliberate acceptance of what was to come and I would lie down and it would begin. I could do it alone in the flat because the bedroom is separate and we slept at different hours during Lockdown. But in Africa I was sleeping alone in the cottage and it could last for hours and I knew El' was not going to walk in and think I was sick with a fever. It was in the farmlands, pitch dark because of the rolling blackouts and I cannot see and all I can hear is the African storm raging outside and the howl of the wolves from the game reserve. I LET G-D BURN ME. The fire running up and down to my fingertips and toes and back again, plus much more. I can feel the exact location of each fire ball deep in my flesh or under my skin. It is alive. I had this as a child too, so it was not unusual for me, but sex had been a way to let it exit me, or by running and dancing. Music or the violence of African storms is also a Catalyst, but now I can 'call upon G-D and He comes*. I call Him HASHEM. I am also at the mercy of the fire. It coming at all moments, so living alone in this flat has been a wonderful experience. NO busy days like on the farm, no husband or man lying next to me and complaining that I am like a hot potato. I have no answers, only more questions... Now that El' is dead, and the tears will subside with time, what is the FIRE going to do when IT needs to get out? One of my health issues is the difficulty in balance so running is not an option. Let me clarify that the FIRE is not sexual in nature. It can be released by sex. It is something else. I have no answer as to what. (interesting that the Crucifixion of Christ is called THE PASSION OF CHRIST.) ( * Deuteronomy 4.24  For the L-RD thy G-d is a consuming fire, even a jealous G-d.) end of part 2

On Realistic Expectations and the Woman You Are Serving   Let me be plain with you, because plainness here is a kindness and I have never been interested in the alternative. I attended a funeral last weekend. Alone.  I want to sit with that for a moment before I say anything else, because it is the most precise illustration I could offer of everything this journal is about. There is a specific and particular indignity in navigating grief in public without someone beside you. Not because I cannot do it, I can do anything alone, I have proven this repeatedly and without fanfare. But because a woman like me should not have to. Because the presence of a devoted and capable partner at your side during the hardest moments of ordinary life is not a luxury. It is what partnership is for. It is, in fact, one of the most fundamental things a serious dynamic should provide: someone who stands beside you in the moments that cost you something, who carries the social weight of difficult occasions, who is simply and solidly there so that you can grieve or endure or simply get through the day without also having to do it visibly alone. I disdain it. I will not dress that up. I disdain walking into rooms full of people as a woman unaccompanied, not because my worth requires a witness, but because I have built enough of a life to deserve someone who shows up for it completely, including the parts that are not beautiful or exciting or charged with the particular electricity of our dynamic. The funeral is not glamorous. It is not a candlelit dinner or a weekend in Greece. It is a Saturday in grief clothes standing in a room full of loss, and I will do it with my back straight and my composure intact because that is who I am, and I will come home to an empty house afterward, and I will feel the absence of what should be there with the specific sharpness of something that is missing rather than something that never existed. This is what I mean when I talk about realistic expectations cutting in both directions. I am a mother first. This is not a disclaimer. It is not an apology. It is the organizing fact of my life around which everything else, including you, arranges itself. I have two children in their preteen years, which anyone who has raised children knows is one of the most demanding and most critical seasons of a young person's life. They require my presence, my attention, my emotional availability, my time, and my energy in quantities that do not leave a remainder to be distributed according to your preferences. If you have arrived here expecting a Goddess with unlimited hours and frictionless availability, you have arrived at the wrong door. This weekend, I had my children.  My time was spent on them, because it is exactly where that time should be spent.  I am also finishing my education, because I am a woman who does not stop building herself simply because life has become complex. I work. I manage a household. I carry the particular and invisible weight that women carry, the planning and the anticipating and the holding of a thousand threads simultaneously, the mental labor that has no clock-out time and no weekend. What this means for you practically is something I need you to hear completely before you decide whether this life is what you actually want or simply what you have romanticized from a comfortable distance. My time is not abundant. It is finite and it is precious and it is allocated with the precision of someone who cannot afford to waste it. There will be days, entire stretches of days, where the children need me and school demands me and work requires me and what is left over is not nothing but it is quiet and it is mine and I will spend it restoring myself rather than managing your need for attention. This is not neglect. This is the reality of serving a woman with a full and serious life, and if you cannot hold yourself with dignity and purpose during those stretches then you are not the caliber of person this dynamic requires. A serious long term FLR TPE with a woman like me is not a constant performance of dominance and submission playing out in real time every hour of every day. It is a structure. It is an understanding so deeply embedded in the way we live that it does not require constant activation. It runs underneath everything, informing how the household operates, how decisions are made, how resources are allocated, how your time and energy are directed even when I am at a school pickup or a study session or simply in a bath with the door closed and my phone face down. Your place in this dynamic is to raise me. Not in the sense that I require raising. In the sense that your devotion, your service, your resources and your effort should be oriented toward elevating my life, reducing my load, creating space around me so that I can be the mother, the student, the professional, and the Goddess that I am without the additional friction of a partner who has become another item on my list of things to manage. You are not here to add to my weight. You are here to carry some of it. That means the household runs because you run it. It means my children's lives are easier because our home is stable and managed and full of the kind of calm that only exists when someone competent is handling the infrastructure of daily life with care. It means you have found your purpose and your structure in the service itself, not in the moments of explicit dynamic play, because those moments are real but they are not the whole of what this is. The whole of what this is lives in the Tuesday afternoon when I have a deadline and a tired child and you have already handled dinner and the house is quiet and I can do what I need to do because you have made space for it. It lives in the Saturday morning of a funeral when I do not have to walk in alone. That is the submission I am describing. Not the aesthetic of it. The actual weight-bearing practice of it, daily, in the ordinary moments that make up most of a life. The grief clothes and the school pickups and the late study nights and the hard weekends. The presence that does not require the occasion to be significant in order to show up for it completely. If you can find your satisfaction there, in the real and unglamorous work of elevating another person's existence, then you understand something essential about what I am offering and what I require. The collar and the candlelight exist. They are real and they are extraordinary. But they rest on a foundation of consistent, intelligent, humble service that asks nothing of me except that I receive it well. I receive it very well. But you have to bring it first, and bring it correctly, and bring it to the funeral as readily as you bring it to the beautiful moments, because the funeral is where it counts the most and the beautiful moments are easy. I am worth the patience. I am worth the long view. I am worth showing up for on the hard Saturdays. The question is whether you are the person who actually does.

"I will serve.  I will be of service." That's one of my favorite lines from the John Wick movies.  It's an oath of service.  Those of us who have service subs understand this devotion and cherish it.     Every year my wife and I take a beach holiday.  This year we're going to drive her convertible to South Padre Island.  I pack my own suitcase.  She does everything else.  This is what she does.  She packs a cooler with ice and my favorite drinks.  It'll sit in the back seat on the drive there.  She has snacks ready so we don't have to stop anywhere if we get hungry.     She packs the trunk with a beach umbrella, beach bag, our suitcases, two chairs and whatever else we need.  I always drive the first leg since I'm an early riser.  We both dress in T-shirts and comfy shorts.     When we get to the rental she piles everything into a folding dolly and we go to our room.  Like a machine, she puts everything away, makes me a drink and gets us settled in.  Like a queen I just sit back and relax.     When we go to the beach it's a production.  She chooses a nice spot near the water and away from the rental umbrellas.  She sets everything up making sure that my body is within reach of her.  She does this because it's her job to make sure I'm oiled up at all times.  If I look warm she'll squirt water on me.  She makes sure my bikini looks just right so I get perfect tan lines.    She loves standing guard over my oiled body as people walk by looking at me as they walk down the beach.  As time goes on she makes sure my drink has ice.  She empties my ask tray.  Every now and I get some more oil rubbed on me.  We talk, listen to music and watch people go by.  Because she is a water baby (Aquarius) she loves swimming in the ocean.  I love watching her enjoy the surf in her tiny bikini as I sunbathe.     I know that we're going to have really hot sex tonight after she sees my tiny tan lines.  I'm really going to enjoy her service.      

switzerland is limited. by what? yes we have a healty system, good finances, gorgeous places, multicultural food and here its very clean. but our bdsm comunity is....small, only 2 principal places lausanne on the center switzerland and zurich on the north. most of the kinkster are spreaded around the country not knowing other ways than classified website. rare knows fetlife.. no one know website like this one. if youre lucky and do shibari or even soft bdsm you can find youre partner or even more. but if youre like me with a lot of kinks, more passionate, curious and creative, your unfortunate... you will need to be very pacient or...search outside... then the only way is to find person who can relocate themself, and this type of person are rare. because a lot want your money/scam, others prefer only online, or even you can find fantaisist person searching only to excite themself and when things turn real they stop. thats tiring and difficult to filter all this mess, ive been thinking for a long time but for me switzerland is not a good place for bdsm, theres a lot of countries better like USA, germany, france but only in paris, ive been thinking if asian country have better community too, like china, korea or even japan.   i hope someday i will find someone diversified like me to like a total lifestyle.

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! 

To what degree these numbers are meaningful, i do not know, and i confess to being skeptical (although i’ll confess to virtually anything if the mood is right). But still... == Results from bdsmtest.org ==100% Masochist100% Submissive100% Rope bunny86% Degradee75% Slave62% Primal (Prey)<br style="box-sizing: border-box; border-width: 0px;

VOTED YESTERDAY!  Wow it feels good to know it is done. I've always marveled at the lost opportunity and lackadaisicle approach to citizenship by those who choose not to vote.  Indeed, they often are the ones with the most protests.  Chit or get off the pot I say!   Too many think it is their right to be born, right to have rights, right to complain without productivity.  Of course I agree, we do have the right to not participate, but that IS participation in and of itself though I tend to believe it is almost passive aggressive in nature and not courageous or dare I say honoring the priveledge we receive in this country and many others. I'm more of the mindset that it is our duty as Global Citizens, to do our part to contribute to the human condition positively and proactively.  I know, I've heard all the arguements and it still doesn't pass muster with Me.  Take Jehovah Wintnesses - they dont' participate in ANY voting as they believe mans laws have no place under God's laws.  Imagine that!  A whole section of society that profess not to partake in any governing over their lives.  While I can intellectualize their choices and appreciate their contributions as they are - it BLOWS My mind they remain silent so to speak. The examples go one and on.  At the end of the day - "IF YOU WANT TO MAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE, TAKE A LOOK AT YOURSELF AND MAKE A CHANGE". Get out and VOTE!  Better still, go get yourself an absentee ballot and VOTE TODAY!

Life can be very funny. Some conversations start with uncertainty but over time blossom into connections you treasure, while others can feel very good at the start but then feel as if something is off. I have been talking with a couple for some time. They were primarily a cuckold couple, with a development path of increasingly rough, forceful sex, but they had had one encounter with a professional Dominant sometime back, when she was flogged and evidently reached subspace without knowing what actually happened. Let's just say they understand the psychology and physiology much better now that we have been talking. Lately, there have been emerging signs that "he" is a sadist. "She" thinks she is a masochist because she has a high pain threshold, but she isn't. She is a hedonist who loves her husband. Turns out all they wanted was someone, me(?), to turn up and flog her arse mercilessly, driving her to sobbing hysteria on her way to subspace (hopefully). He wants her tears, crying inconsolably as she is beaten. I am not judging - each to his own - but it became clear that what they want is not who I am - not even who I might be. So today I told them. I was met with an "OK. Thank you. Goodbye." and was then immediately cut off from contact. They shared the account (I think) - of course, it could all be a sham - but I think it was "him" who did the terminating. Sometimes right is right and wrong is simply wrong. I do feel better knowing I stayed true to me, but I do wonder where they go next. Back to that Dom in Spain?

🧑‍⚕️ You know you might be coming down with something, and I'm afraid some tests and a thorough examination might be in order. 🧐 Now I have to make sure I'm protected as well 😷, so I'll need to perform some hands on testing 🧑‍🔬 with tight fitting latex gloves on. Snap snap, all prepped and ready. I'm sure you won't mind. And I will have to lube them up as well to get into some spots on and in your body. Now why do you undress for me behind the curtain, leave your bra and panties on for now, and go ahead and put this gown on.🧖‍♀️ Good. Ok, so sit down on the examination table. I'm going to take your temperature, open your mouth. 🤒 And give me your left arm so I can get this blood pressure cuff on you around your bicep. Pump, pump, pump, and listening to your pulse. 120 over 80. That's ok, normal. Oh, your temperature should be ready. Ah yes, 99.3. You are running a little hot. Are you a nervous? I want to check your reflexes now. You'll feel a tap here on your knee. 🦵 And the same with your right. That's good. So go ahead and remove your bra from under your gown. That's it. And now your panties. Oh, you're not wearing any. I see. Let me make a note of that in your chart. ✍ Well let's have you lay on your back, and get comfortable. Yes, that's it, good girl. You're going to have trouble seeing things for a minute while I turn this bright light on. It's so I can get a really good look at you. 🧐 The exam table underneath you might be a little cold at first. You'll just have to deal with it. Comfy, great, now let's make sure you're centered on the table. That's it, get your wrists between the arm binders at your sides and the leather wrist cuffs near your hips. Good, ok everything looks symmetrical. And let's get your legs apart between the leather ankle cuffs down here at this end of the table. Those are for the unruly patients. Are you going to be a good girl? Tell me. I'm not going to have to use those restraints on you, or am I? 🤔

MstrB writing from midtown been looking for one decent slave for some time now it will be well trained for a variety of domestic services and hopefully for the slaves sake it is able to learn from its corrections …even better if it already knows exactly what it’s good for!  ...all its further educating will be done with a strap kept very close by.... it will be made to understand it has no rights no privileges no freedom to come or to go without asking for and receiving  express permission  so much in life is correctly forbidden to a slave  and it must be reminded of this consistently if not constantly slave has no secrets no privacy or much time alone and certainly no participation or place in any considerations or discussions about things going to be done with the slave in fact it has no say in much of anything slaves Owner will have full authority over the slave and its affairs and will use that authority very strictly I am understanding of slaves condition I am sympathertic to its plight and always give a slave what it needs but allow very little of what it wants this is both an Owners prerogative over the slave as well as an extension of a kind of parental authority therefore no disrespect or disobedience will be permitted ...ever! MrB   ------------------------------------------------------------------------       I use…and enjoy very much using… real discipline- isolation- humiliation-lots of busy work in the home...all to train a female to a level of acceptable domesticity…sort of housebreaking the slave…teaching both the need for her focused Obedience and the necessity to perform with humility and accuracy whatever is demanded from her chores chores chores…so much to be done….so many things to attend to... upon collaring slaves pussy will be immediately closed for business as her chastity must be clearly established for the oversexed sluts own good...she will have no orgasms until permitted ..her hands fingers etc will be kept from her vaginal area except for purposes of good hygiene and then only under direct supervision...
 rule of thumb...a slave will be fully given what she needs and very very little of what she wants. so I am here seeking full Ownership of such a woman and she would do well to have a real slave personality....certain qualities will be emphasized in her training as more wanted than others...humility for instance...a highly prized quality that can't be stressed enough and that is wholly attractive to see when presented with sincerity …she will be shown how to provide service as the Obedient intelligent servant she was born to be… she will complement my life and basically make things easier for me in whatever way she is called on…as a relationship develops between Owner and slave she will come to appreciate more and more the kinds of support and guidance given to her... she will learn to approach her Owner with nothing less than demonstrable Respect under all circumstances… her training in how to properly submit herself will never really end so her attention will be directed to intellectual things I will insist she consider and think about...adult slave lessons on a cerebral level… she will be stripped, anally plugged and put into a submissive position on her knees or perhaps ordered to freeze on her tiptoes... she will then be closely questioned about these things…her answers are required and truly valued… she must be responsive and forthcoming to all questions about her feelings her moods and her progress in becoming more servile and useful..the point being to make her a better servant and a more responsive slave....these interrogations and her confessions of her feelings will be a ritual she will learn to anticipate and expect …the reasons for them are simple..I want her to be fully aware of her condition in this lifestyle and in my life most of all…she belongs to me as my property and she is subject to my discipline my control my desires and decisions for her… I want her to learn to accept and in the end embrace the benefits she enjoys thanks to me because I do what I think is best for her… I will do whatever needs to be done to turn this woman into the best slave she can possibly be …I am a sexual sadist all my life and knew this when I was about eight or nine though I had no idea of the implications…
I use many forms of personality and behavioral techniques.. real discipline, humiliation, isolation, very tight bondage, sensory dep... whatever I find has the greatest effect on her emotions.. I will happily enforce her Obedience until she learns to respectfully offer it...one way or another I will get what I want from her…she will be trained to domestic service of various kinds...she will be watched closely and fairly judged on how well she performs these tasks and she will be unfailingly punished when she fails to do them as instructed...her good service is a pure reflection of her Respect for her Owner and her place in his life... her Obedience is the essence of her slave self....to be useful in all ways and show that she knows her place at all times is one of her many goals as the slave she is.... and her training will center heavily on perfecting her attitude as she is carrying out the tasks given her ...no matter what the work or activity is, it must be performed with a pleasing attitude...with humility... and if not?...
so many reasons a woman offers to give her a memorable correction…as though a reason were even needed.  I am open for discussion of all issues which will come up and need to be addressed to keep things balanced and harmonious between Owner and slave…she will be safe and protected from as much of the outside world as she wants to not have to deal with... I welcome the amazing emotional connections that come from a successful M/s relationship and take full responsibility for what I do !... not everything can be solved with a strap but for a true slave? nothing else will do……McB