Exoticpie2024 

Mhhh dang' had one of the most hillarious and fun session with my new slave🤣🤣Extreme cum denial and edging..Till he started begging for mercy, he is an obedient one though...Well his pathetic cock is locked using the Cellmate 2 ... I have complete control over him, he has no means of escape, and unless i unlock it he can never get outLol am really enjoying this, he's litterally my prisoner

Thought it would be helpful to cover a few points here... Interview style conversation is not my thing, if you want to get to know me then use your ability to hold a flowing conversation,  not an interview I am single, I do not see why anyone in a happy relationship would be on sites chatting so I assume you are also single ... if not then please don't waste our time with trying to strike up a chit chat  As of this year, 2022 I will be 50 on my next birthday and I found the lifestyle when I was about 21 so you do the maths  Sorry but I don't want to meet someone who is close to my children's age, to be safe if you are more than 10 years older or younger than me we won't be matched  I am not a slave, honestly I am very sure of that. I do have strong sub tendencies with the right alpha male but seriously if you don't consume my head you won't stand a chance of controlling anything else I am not into poly or sharing or being shared. I am totally monogamous and if you are not then flick over to the next profile I live with my family, happy to discuss with the right person but I have a young child at home so seek someone who understands how to make a vanilla and lifestyle combined relationship work whilst keeping tiny ones protected from it all I am a non smoker, I don't vape, I rarely drink and am seeking someone similar. Nights in the pub are not of interest I work full time and have limited time free so I am not in a position to travel to meet someone, so local is needed. For anyone who thinks a plane ride is local then jog on as you really are not on the realistic spectrum I am seeking  Yes I have been collared twice and for some reason it seems relevant but to be honest the first waited almost a year before it happened as he knew to me I see it as a serious commitment I do have limits which are a mix of health and personal things so happy to discuss but they are not negotiable  Likes, vanilla and lifestyle wise are varied but those can be savoured as part of a conversation  I hope that has given a flavour and please do find happiness in your journey but don't come across my pathway of you are a new dom I am not looking to teach you the ropes, a dom who really is a sub (there are many on here), if you are a female dom (so not my thing), if you are a male sub and finally no female subs.  Cheers x 

Edit     So the looser of our little game is now in the position of being constantly aroused at the thought of so many folk seeing one of her pictures, and as she has no control over further posts. Its hard to tell which is arousing her more, the loss of control or folk seeing her pictures. So today we have a fresh picture to review, feedback welcome.

Long weekends are the worst.  So much time…alone.  I fear I don't do so well left to my own devices once the chores are done.  Last Memorial day weekend I had resolved to take a bit of a break from all of...this.  No stories.  No shaving my body.  No practicing submissive postures.  Focus on the real, stop endlessly daydreaming of submission.   It's been the entire summer now.  I don't feel any better.  I've not suddenly found a partner in life.  I've not been any more or less productive than before.  In fact, today, I'm about out of my mind.  My natural body hair has returned and somehow it makes me feel….dirty.  I miss the way clothing felt against my skin.  I miss the ritual of shaving everything.  Of imagining I was doing it for my Owner.  Of taking some action in the real world that confirmed my nature and my deepest desires.   Will I always be this…stuck?  This alone?  Is there any hope that, one day, I might find someone who will want me for everything I am?  Who can accept this terrible and inescapable desire to kneel?  To be used?

Sub thoughts for a Domme; What pleasure means to me ... as a submissive man, pleasure, to me, is knowing that i am making Her happy, providing a service to or for Her, filling the role that She wishes me to fill, for Her and Her pleasure.   I can do or perform acts that bring me pleasure, but it is empty if She doesn't derive pleasure, happiness, amusement or satisfaction from it. I am always hoping to make Her happy or to provide something useful to or for Her. A disagreement about what type of food to eat, what movie to see, what we are doing for the day .. the bottom line is She will have the final say, the Control to determine those things and to exercise that power when and how She sees fit.   I am happiest knowing that She is happy. To make Her smile or see the approving look in Her face is all the pleasure I need and anything further beyond that is simply icing on the cake.   I think what it means to the exchange between a Domme and Her sub/slave is mentioned in the above, but essentially it means that my pleasure only exists and should only be possible if i am pleasing Her .. it is Her desires and wants that need to be met, and my ability to assist or aid in that brings me great joy and happiness, and is the only thing that really pleases me.   Self-gratification is nice, but hollow and empty as i am not fulfilling the desire and yearning i have to know that i am pleasing Her. I exist for Her pleasure and that is fulfilling.   I look forward to submitting my ego and desires to Her, for Her to guide, shape, influence and control.

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! 

It is good to see this feature has returned. I had been told that it may or may not but there was no plans when I had asked so I am pleased that the decision was made to bring it back. Being able to use the journal and share one's thoughts can save a lot of time. You get to a point where you decide to write a single email then copy and paste to the ones you are interested in speaking with. It seems to me that many women on here, still looking, get overwhelmed with response and often times an introduction may go unread from being overlooked. With the journal you get to share more and someone can establish a sense of you before opening communication. This leads me to something that has bothered me about a stance some take in the online community. This idea that you are not real if you do not post photos of yourself or what you do. Not to say I would be unwilling to send photos once I spoke with someone and believed them to be serious. I would gladly share with someone I feel is serious about moving forward. However, the idea that I should share a bunch of photos with disregard to the safety of those involved simply to prove I am real is, in my opinion, absurd. In order for me to post photos I would have to scrutinize each photo to ensure nothing is revealed that could identify me or those who do or have served me. I do not have the time to do this and lets face it, I would rather live in the moment doing than relive what I did. To me, the person who has all the photos and videos is living in the past instead of the now. Besides, even though this is not a completely public site, I have come across scammers, so the less I put out that is readily accesible the better for me and those who rely on me. If you wish to know me and see what I do, then contact me. For now, I will add more entries as topics come to mind that I want to share my thoughts on. In this way, the community may get to know me and those who are seeking someone like me may find me. I look forward to sharing more in time.

Messy Little Piggy  Had the best time today rolling around in the bath in piss and custard. Oinking as I poured it all over my head, down over my snout and finishing by rubbing it all over my tits and pussy. Piggy piss play and sploshing, yum, my favourite. What food do you like to wallow and oink in?

  Tips on Courting a Domme   Over the years I've had my fair share of good luck when it comes to successfully courting Dommes and I've given out quite a bit of advice to subs looking to court Dommes. I consider myself to be average to below average when it comes to my looks and physical attractiveness, job quality, etc. so I must have done something right in making a good impression. Now that I have a blog I figured I would post my advice in full. I covered several of these a little over a week ago but I figure they could easily have their own post. 1. Be courteous, respectful, and have good manners. This should probably go without saying but one of the biggest turn-offs many Dommes have are subs who fail to meet these basic requirements. This is the most important thing in making a good first impression. If you are contacting them through an adult dating site, make sure you read her entire profile first and adhere to any requirements she might have. Write out a well-thought message (complete with spell check) that indicates what you find interesting about her (aside from her looks and your fantasy) and what you have to offer. Do not send a picture of your penis unless she specifically requests it. It doesn't take a lot of effort to be a perfect gentleman.  Most Dommes on adult dating sites receive 20-300 messages per day from potential subs, 90% of which are disrespectful, thoughtless, or downright crude. If you are approaching a Domme in public (at a munch, play party etc.) you have to be twice as well-behaved since there is only a limited chance that she is actually looking for a sub. If she says no, be courteous and get out of her face. If you don't, you can basically assume you will be blacklisted within that community.  2. Be a real person. No one is "just a sub" all the time. No Domme is "just a Domme" all the time. Even if both of you are seeking a 24-7 lifestyle relationship, you have to come off as more than just a live in servant(unless that is specifically what she is looking for). Have interests. Have feelings. Have dreams. Have goals. Have a personality. Have a sense of humor. Just like in vanilla relationships, all of these things will be important if you want to be an appealing life partner.  If you are as interesting as a box of hair, expect to be discarded as easily as a box of hair. She won't want to be burdened by having to keep you occupied and entertained all day every day. That is higher maintenance than being needy.  What are your favorite movies? Books? Music? Hobbies? Sports? If you can pique her interest as a person, you are much more likely to succeed in winning her over. If you are smart, funny, and caring it will go a long ways.  3. Have a philosophy and a good gr of yourself. It's easy to think about the sub you want to be. Hell, most subs have probably fantasized about Femdom situations for years before they act upon them. If you haven't thought about it, think about it. If you have thought about it, refine it a little more. Step One: Define your idealized form of submission. If she is the right match for you, your ideal and her ideal will likely coincide. This is not about what kind of play you enjoy or what kind of kinky fantasies you wish to have. Dommes an advantage since they can have rather meticulous expectations for a sub. Think about what types of characteristics and responsibilities those entail. Should a sub perform all of the household chores and domestic duties? Should a sub have any expectations of rewards or pleasures? Should a sub expect to be treated as a lover?  There is no right or wrong (although some of them should be obvious), but more a matter of preference. If your view of being a sub involves few responsibilities, you will probably be looking for a less strict Domme or a switch. If your view of being a sub involves extensive micro-management, that will be targeted towards a particular type of Domme. Some Dommes want a sub that is their lover, others may want a strict code of Mistress/servant formality. D/s relationships that work out generally will have idealized ideas of subm

52M Dom/Daddy london uk, Seeks *relocatable* live-in 18-25 any cis girl must willing to Anal Training i am Master/DD would say that I am not a loser, or dying for pussy (maybe for a real sub and her Back door=butt=asshole=Anal Training for younger female),I am not crazy or dangerous etc, but a person, pleasant, appearance, polite (more or less)and I like to dominate, I am willing to Anal Training for younger= one cis girl willing to be mine anal slut, must not be committed (with other cocks=which mean if you think you are naughty you are probably ...), who wants to discover and cultivate with me(no others) the pleasure her submission and live as a proper 1950s girl.all with honesty and pleasure for both, keeping in mind that is not a game)she must into a beautiful and intense time ..of course after care and use of the safeword is paramount in a long term relationship (even short but again 'no take away') ,if interested could write me on telegram analmandingo or PM ,NO 4 SEX CHAT OR if u want MONEY find a pig NOT ME!.I am only interested in sub/slave want to be own by me only for monogamous LTR ( or is full of wanna be dom and domme if you are looking for sex go to them as probably you rubbish like them so shite go with shite ). U must be in London uk 🇬🇧 , no cyber no fake ! Basic tasks for the girl what to be my slave 1_ you must be naked or basic dressed you will be touched regularly by me I love to have my hands all over you 2) you must suck a minimum of 2hrs per day my cock .3. you will get spanked or whips minimum 30 shots per day as to remind you, you are mine .4. you will be rape play daily as ATM mouth fuck .5. you must rim me regularly after u cum it relax me .6, you need to wear a plug Or plug tail Or the hook posture ,7.piss whore you will get my golden rain in or on your face ,8, you must wear a collar as show of respect to me.and you will be training to wear a plug daily t! .9. do what I said or get punish the way i want or like . listen to what I need and make sure I get it from you 10. You will sign a contract to show me you understand Snapchat DomPadrone telegram analmandingo not for sex chat i do not fit in. never did.never wanted to , I do not mix with sh*t.

I'll give you a little hint too.  I get a LOT of contacts here. Many are polite and interested in me, at least until they realize I'm not gonna show them my junk on cam within the first 24 hours after they say they are a real true Dom! LOL So often the proof is in the engagement, the talking, the conversations, the eventual move off of this platform to one where we can take the next steps.  I should not be expected to carry that load myself. Matter of fact, I expect the Dominant to take the lead here after all they contacted me. If I say yes, I'd like to get to know you, I expect conversation, asking questions, sharing FetLife profiles, etc. etc. etc. whatever it takes to see and feel if there is a common and mutual spark worth pursuing.  I of course have many of my own questions and comments and I will most certainly share those.  I WANT to find my man/Dominant/Master! So this should be a labor of love for both of us. I look forward to hearing from you! 

Desire part 3   I slapped his erection and asked, "do you belong to me?"   "Ehn" he nodded, the veins in his arms standing out as he tensed and raised his hips again nodding as best he could.   I squeezed his erection roughly. Scooting my body backward and hovering over it.    "Do you want to be inside of me?"    He made a strangled noise and thrust up in my grasp. I slammed down on him. Filling myself. Fucking myself with him as if he were just a living dildo. He moaned under his hood. A faceless man. An object. A dog.  Not allowed to cum unless I used the command word. The special word. One I won't write here.   I moaned and rode him leaning back and grinding so that his pubic hair tickled my clit, then leaning forward to press the sensitive bud into his pubic bone. I could feel myself clenching around him and dripping, soaking us both as I drew closer to my orgasm.   "Please. your. Empress," I hissed, "hold your breath for me." I pressed my hands over his mouth and nose in his hood and rode him harder, my ass and thighs clapping against his thighs. And for 40 seconds he seemed to be calm but then he began to buck, fighting for air as he neared a minute without, his heart beat furiously in his chest, visibly so, and his bucking slowed, I felt myself there at the edge of my orgasm, I let him have air and released his bound arms. Tired from restriction he reached out slowly and grabbed my thighs and hips and thrust up into me furiously as I cried out in pleasure. Dripping around him as my pussy sucked and twitched and clenched around him.  Obediently he didn't cum.  Once I finished he put his hands back beside his head so that I could bind him again. He lay there still. His dick still deep inside of me. His heart still racing as his chest rose and fell.   I climbed off of him and stumbled towards the door as he lay there on the floor. I gave him one final look and said, "good night, my pet", before I clicked off the light, left the room, and locked the door. Leaving him there on the floor, tied in his hood, bound, naked, alone, erect and frustrated in the dark. While I, well fucked and satisfied, returned to my bed and my book.   

From time to time I am asked what I'm looking for. I haven't specified in my profile, and from what I'm told my description doesn't really fit in around here. Nor does my writing. I'm going to talk about the collective you, not specifically you, dear reader. Clearly you are the exception. I have been here long enough to see that most people fit into boxes. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they are afraid or established or stuck. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they aren't successful with relationships in their real lives so they look for extremes here to counter that. The exploiting for sex and excitement. The genuine living this life out in the world and here to meet like minded people. The watchers.  Here's the unpopular part, remember that you like me. I think we're all messed up to some degree and that's why we're here instead of talking to someone face to face. This isn't the place for emotionally healthy people. This is that dive bar on the shady side of town you hope no one sees you walk into that's full of regret but it makes you forget for a while. And I'm in here, too. I'm not looking for someone to take me home. I just want to swap stories and laughter. I don't think what I'm really looking for is here, but in the moment I'm all for the entertainment when an interesting conversation heads my way. Everything good starts with a conversation, even if it doesn't turn out the way you hoped. I'm happy to be pleasantly surprised, but I fully expect to walk out of this bar alone. 

"The Grimoire of Urban Flora: Sacred Sexuality, Healing, and Transformation" this has been weeks coming. i finally got to do the audio review of urban flora. not just a music review..but a review in the context of the sacred spirituality power dynamic i do. with a mindset of mermaid energy. i go over briefly the summary of the energetics of the dark goddess sophia vibe, the dark god archangel michael male energy, where i get this from and the set up of why i see alina baraz's urban flora album as a guidebook aka grimoire for women like us..who love men like this. in this nature. too keep in the mermaid theme besides explaining a summary, all of it is in audio format to continue with the water theme. while i didn't record it on a water day or water planetary hour. i am rectifying it by releasing it today mercury day during mercury hour in my time zone for extra energetic effect. you're like a wave, pulling me underneath, there's a universe inside of you, i can make you feel, can i undress you, let them wash away your pain, what's a king without a queen, chasin your pretty thoughts   https://audiomack.com/sophia-starseed/song/the-grimoire-of-urban-flora-sacred-sexuality-healing-and-transformation imagine sick ass water images because on my other social media it's there and it adds to the effect and the formatting of collarme has nerffed the message. oh well.

I'm going to use an anecdote to give a little insight about what I like. It may be a little long but bear with me. I had a Dom/friend, he's in Arkansas now, we met at a party & his then GF was yelling at him & he was yelling at her. Was ruining the vibe so I told her to go upstairs, and took him outside. Went up stairs, chatted with her: She didn't like him talking to other girls. Stupid nagging problems. Went downstairs. Talked to him out in the alley. He didn't like that she slept with his friends when she was mad at him. Which sort of ticked me off. Anyway we chatted and he gave me an out of the blue kiss. Then next day all day sucking/fucking. He liked playing the XBox while getting head. Watching porn and getting head. And having someone to rub his feet, his back. I told him his ex GF was a bitch & the worst kind - the one who sends pics of her fucking to him. He did love her and It made me want to please and make him feel special. I told him he could do whatever he wanted with me. He liked being complimented and thought of. I like his build & personality. He had some kinks like enjoying being rimmed, choking, verbal and I was always open for him when he needed to fuck. I liked it when he sat on my face and made me eat his ass while he relaxed and even when he put his foot in my mouth and had me worship his feet. I enjoyed him being at a desk with me under it, soft cock in my mouth. It'll grow until it was ready to fuck my face then after he came it'll rest in my mouth until he was ready again. We became pretty good friends. Discreet fuck buddies the entire time since the crazy Ex was still around & we both liked no one knowing our business. He moved out to AK closer to family but we both had a great time and I enjoyed being there for him and making him feel like a King. I knew my place, he knew my place and we both knew his place. - 2017

Alright, feral creatures. Drag your claws in a circle and listen.   If your master plan is to speed run your BDSM bucket list with strangers like you’re farming achievements, you are not practicing power exchange. You are running a fantasy drive thru.   Hi yes, I’ll take one degradation scene, extra intensity, no emotional labor.   That’s not dominance.   That’s not submission.   That’s transactional self gratification wearing a harness.   Power exchange is not a vending machine. It is not a same night shipping option for your curiosity. It is a relational structure built on trust, communication, and actual human care.   You cannot ethically hold power over someone you do not care about. Period.   Now let’s talk about pick up play before someone starts twitching.   Picking up someone you’ve seen in the community? Someone you’ve observed at events? You’ve watched how they negotiate. How they respond to a safeword. How they treat people after scenes. How they handle NO. You’ve seen them interact when they’re not performing.   That’s informed risk.   Scooping up a total stranger with zero shared community, zero references, zero behavioral observation, and hoping adrenaline carries you through?   That’s rolling dice with someone’s nervous system.   Vibes are not vetting.   And while we’re here get involved in the community.   Go to munches.   Go to vettings.   Go to classes/workshops.   Go sit at a table and actually talk to people without trying to collect them.   Observe.   Watch how people interact. Notice who listens. Notice who interrupts. Notice who respaspects space. Notice who name drops. Notice who checks in after someone looks overwhelmed. Notice who vanishes when cleanup starts.   Munches are not play parties. Vettings are not auditions for your bucket list.   They are spaces to build familiarity. To understand hosts and their rules. To learn the culture of a specific dungeon or group. These events take time, money, and energy to plan. Hosts coordinate venues. They set safety protocols. They build community frameworks.   Treat that with respect.   Don’t roll in like it’s a pregame for your fantasy scavenger hunt.   Power exchange requires infrastructure:   Clear negotiation   Explicit limits   Aftercare planning   Emotional accountability   Community awareness   If you don’t have the patience to build that foundation, you don’t want BDSM. You want intensity without responsibility.   And here’s the gremlin truth: when you treat people like checklist items, you erode the very ecosystem that keeps kink safer.   Community exists so we can:   Share information   Protect each other   Vet behavior   Build trust over time   You want to dominate? Learn how to communicate without posturing.   You want to submit? Learn how to advocate for yourself without shrinking.   You want to explore? Learn how to build relationships that can hold intensity safely.   Slow down.   Show up consistently.   Respect the hosts.   Respect the spaces.   Respect the humans.   Otherwise you’re not practicing power exchange.   You’re just chasing adrenaline for an orgasm and hoping nobody gets hurt when the crash hits.   And that’s not edgy.   That’s just reckless with better lighting.

Compelled  compelled to Dominate Men. No matter how much she tried, no matter what she wore, her mirror, overwhelmed her with Dominant Femininity. An aura of command perfumed the atmosphere. Exotic, clinging, rising upwards from her hips. Intoxicating any man foolish enough to look in her direction.   With greater frequency and intensity the Dominant Cravings filled her heart with glee.   Experience taught her that the less she cared about her object of submission, the greater her excitement and consequently her satisfaction.   By encasing the object in a leather or rubber hood, it became a flesh and blood pleasure unit. A thing to torture. A quivering, drooling, grunting and sweating thing. She panted with laughter at the thought of her wicked ideas becoming reality.   She had but to dial the phone to summon a pleasure unit. Satisfying to be sure, however, not nearly as much fun as putting a vanilla subject under her heel.  

I Wonder Who We Are... I often look at myself thru the eyes of my mind. Who do I **think** I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? I wonder how many others take the time to self-reflect like this? I try to do this weekly.  Sometimes late at night as I bask in the quiet night’s arms I find my mind drifting to the day gone by. I replay the days events and scrutinize my actions at times.  TODAY, did I live my life to my best potential? The gift of life I was given is a treasure that we so often under value. It's easy to get caught up in the daily struggles that inflict us as we sometimes dredge thru the day thankful it's over.  Guilty! After all we are all human.  In a world filled with hate, selfishness, struggles and woes sometimes its all we can do not to scream. Allow a blood curling sound to exit our lungs, travel up our throats picking up momentum as it exits our lips with a shiver echoing thru the darkness to find no respite.  A primal sound that perhaps evolved from our primal ancestors to never develop or change in the millions of years gone by. Signaling our frustrations and every other imaginable negative energy that exists within us today. As we yearn to release it all allowing them to somehow be absorbed into the cosmos, never to return. A cry for help perhaps? Perhaps.  Perhaps it's just an evacuation of all that we resent exiting us hoping we can fill the vacancy with the positive. I like to think that's the case with me. But as I look around each day, looking for positive energy, from my fellow man I am left starving. Wanting to see more beauty I can absorb to act as my muse. Guiding me to be a better me as it motivates me to want to feed love back into the world.  But alas, it has become a daunting task. Disappointment abounds the empty caverns of my heart and mind. Have we become so shallow as a society that the only thing that now defines us is instant and momentary self gratification? Often at the expense of others. Is this what thousands of centuries of evolution has led us to? NAY I say! Not I today! Unable to find it readily at the hand of my two legged peers I turn to nature. I find myself being blindly led to the pasture where my four legged friends reside. I hear their whinnies as they see me approaching. Running towards me anxious to see me. Besides me walks my fury four legged best friend. My canine soul mate who has dedicated his life to unselfishly and unconditionally love me. To never leave me no matter what I do or how I treat him. He is bound for life to me. Arriving closer to the gate a thunderous echo of stampeding hooves envelopes the air. Filling my ears with its roar as it approaches closer. Standing on the lush green carpet of grass I am surrounded by these four legged majestic creatures that so easily could do me harm. My smaller companion eyeing them carefully under his protective gaze.  Wet nuzzles against my hands searching for treats. This action is common place here. All fighting for my attention as there are so many and I am only but one. The creative one among the group, finding no need to challenge the rest for the position of my hands. He quietly walks up behind me. I am made aware of his presence among the distraction as I feel rubbing against my back. His side turned head using my back as a scratching post to satisfy his itch?  No my friends that is not the self centered case of this half ton creature. He is saying, "Daddy I am here. I missed you. Where have you been?" He is most certainly not the alpha but nor is he the omega. He falls somewhere in between the alphabetically defining realm of personality letters.  Turning to let him know I acknowledge his presence with rubs I manage just a few. The other horses quickly pushing him away to look to my moving hands for what they desire. Treats and rewards to fill their already fat full bellies. Yet he stands alone a mere stones toss away watching. Reaching into my pockets I retrieve a handful of treats. Allowing the surrounding herd to acknowledge them with their keen sense of smell I toss them in the opposite direction of my inamorato who stands there with no desire to chase such petty treats. The rest of the herd now busy vying to retrieve the hand tossed delicacies he approaches me. I hold his head against me with love and affection. It is as much his fuel as it is my own. I turn to exit, followed at a respectable distance by my adoring and adored friend.  Holding it open signaling him the permission he seeks to exit the field and the others who physically resemble him. As the three of us stand there, me enjoying and soaking up the moment, I can't help but observe. Acknowledging and absorbing the actions that just took place.  My plotted journey observed and responded to. The actions and reactions as I entered. The easily manipulated distraction I created that all but one fell prey to.  His dedication to follow me outside his defined boundaries and the company of the others physically like him who have near matching DNA. His choice to leave the safety of his peers signals to me that he finds safety and comfort in my company. His trust in me that I always have and always will be his caregiver, his provider, his protector fills my now empty heart.  The many journeys we have traveled together since his birth are safely tucked away in my mind. Easily retrieved to reminisce upon when needed. As I stand there admiring this majestic creature of God before me my mind retrieves from the filing cabinet labeled with his name. Quickly sorting thru day 3 of his birth begins to play.  He is laying curled upon a stack of hay within a stall of the barn. His protective mother standing guard over him. Her ears pinned back warning anyone that intends to do him harm to stay away. Her eyes soften and ears relax as she recognizes me as the source of the sound. Carefully not to startle the sleeping foal I slowly approach. His mother content with who the human visitor is allows me safe passage.  I find myself first sitting next to him admiring his beauty. Astounded by the miracle of birth that he is. His soft breathing seen in the way the straw beneath his nose moves back and forth as he inhales and exhales so gently. Leaning in closer to touch him I look at his guardian looking down at me as if silently asking for her permission to get closer. When I see no warnings of alarm in her I move my hand gently running it across his neck.  His days old fur so soft I am jealous not to have something as comforting as this to sleep upon myself. He releases a soft sigh as if finding comfort in my loving strokes.  Now realizing that the submissive love his mother has given me extends to the trust of her new born, I inch closer. Soon I find myself laying along side his tiny body. Curled up next to him I drape an arm over him. Another soft sudden exhale of breath reaches my ears. Is he communicating his pleasure in feeling my warm body against? Is he capable of such a thought process? I lay there for what feels like hours pressed against him. Only to realize as he begins to finally stir that it’s only been 10 minutes by my watches time.   Emancipated from this world lost in head space I return the the physical by his movement.  He turns his head, in what seems to be, a search to find the source of his sighs. I softly look into his eyes hoping he can peer into my own and see the love and adoration I have for him. THAT moment etched in my mind forever more NEVER to be lost or forgotten.   Slowly he rises as if not to harm me and stands over my still prone form. I find my heart overflowing with love. If only I could find this form of love in my own breed. His mother content that no harm will befall him under my watch, complete and loyal trust bestowed upon me finds comfort in our bond to now lay down herself.  Obviously exhausted by the ritual of birth and having to provide  protection to her child. Her 1400 lb mass taking up much of the stall but careful not to invade my space. Suddenly I find myself lost in thought. Who do I think I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? To THEM.  A brushing against my calf returns me to the world of today as the drawer filled memories are closed. In the universe of my mind I lost a momentary connection to this plane of existence.  My canine comrade standing now by my side waiting for direction. He looks at me then glances to the tack room and back at me. As if he is asking me, in the best way he knows, “Are we going for a ride?” my eyes look down at him as I rub his head. “Not today good boy. Today daddy just needed affirmation to who he is. My hearts full again. Thank you.” “Go get him and let’s go back in. Daddy has work to do.” Doing what he’s been taught to do under my caring tutelage he bounds off to bring back my blessed 4 legged gift. A simple double click from me, seeing his adopted brother heading his way, he knows its time to go back. With the look of a bowed head he walks to me as I rub his face and ears. I whisper in his ears, “Good boy.” As if content to hear these words he heads for the gate. Opening the gate I let him return to his pasture mates where he looks like just another horse. “Come on dog. Daddy has to go search for someone! “ he says as he turns to go back into the house. Because now I know who and what I am. I know what I was meant to be.

  I just reread my last journal and have to laugh, thinking I wrote that less than 3 weeks ago, with no fucking idea what was coming.  Shit does indeed happen.  So to be clear, this has absolutely no connection to my previous hospital stay.  But a week after I got out and wrote my previous journal entry, I felt some tenderness in my neck, and upon feeling around, I felt a lump.  So I went to the VA hospital emergency room, and one cat scan, scope down my throat, pet scan and biopsy later, I have cancer.  A really bad kind of cancer.  Head and neck squamous cell carcinoma.  I still haven't discussed treatment options and my chances of survivng this with my doctors, but I've done extensive reading online.  I've read medical journals, results of clinical trials, and it looks like a horror story.  The treatment is invasive, horribly painful, destructive, and the cancer keeps coming back.  Often within months.  My chances of surviving 5 years are 50%, and my quality of life for those 5 years isn't going to be wonderful.   And suddenly, BDSM, being a slave, my wants and needs, all seem a lot less important.  Like not at all.  What seems important is not wanting to face this alone.  Oh, I have lots of friends.  But no family within 2000 miles.  I live alone. What I need now, is a friend, a care giver.  Someone who is willing to relocate and be here 24 7 and help me get through this.  What do you get out of this?  Free room and board, and the VA will pay you a caregiver stipend.  And I live in a nice house in a nice area.  If I don't make it, I will make sure you receive a final bonus in my will.  If I do, we can discuss that.  All of this is negotiable.  I want this to be a woman into BDSM even though there wont be any BDSM happening because of my health because I at least want to be able to be open about who I am and have her be a kindred soul.  And if I don't make it, I need her to sanitize the house so my kids don't find anything to let them know I was into this.  Contact me if you are interested.  I will require a full background check.  Some medical background would be nice, but not necessary.  I will expect you to get CPR and first aid certified if you are not already.  If you are interested, let's talk  

September 2025 Update Well, what to update on? I've had precious little innteresting contact on this site for a while. I did have some medical issues toward the end of last year from which I am now recovering. I was in a relationship where the partner in question appears to have ghosted me. I guess that makes me single once again? I havent heard from him in over 6 months after all. To me, I'm single even if neither of us spoke the words 'we're broken up'. I've maintained my chastity now since March 2020. I don't think i could live without it. I too, still regularly practice submissive poses, exercises, and enjoy self bondage sessions in lieu of a dominant. My transition has been a drawn out process due to my illness earlier this year. I do take hormone treatments, and keep myself with long hair, and shaved below the top of my head. I dress as femme all day every day. I love as a woman every day. However, bottom surgery has not yet been approved for me. The psychiatrist I had lined up to provide my second medical declartion rejected it back in January, meaning I've been fighting both an illness and the NHS since then to get the documents and reports I need for my GRC. If you know what that means, you'll know the frustration. If you don't let me simplify it. I've been living as a woman now for nearly four years, but I can't have that legally recognised just yet because of paperwork. If you want someone who is submissive and loyal, I am that. However, be warned that though I intend to undergo bottom surgery, that is still a little while away for me.

  Some upsetting news This I hope will explain my current emotional feelings. Because I've recently received some truly unexpected and unsettling news, and I'm finding it incredibly difficult to process. I'm honestly struggling to even articulate the situation clearly, as the information is still so raw and shocking.I won't go into the details right now, mostly because I’m still trying to make sense of everything myself. But suffice it to say, it's emotionally traumatizing, and it's completely thrown me off balance.Right now, I'm feeling overwhelmed, numb, anxious, lost, and angry.It's like the ground has shifted beneath my feet, and I'm having a hard time figuring out which way to go.The biggest challenge I'm facing is deciding how to proceed.This news has so many implications, and I'm feeling completely lost in trying to navigate the situation. I'm worried about making the wrong decisions, and I'm unsure of who to turn to for guidance.  

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? 

The Blue you have reached has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check the number and try your call again. (**If the above message doesn't make sense to you, or ring a Ma Bell, then you're probably too young for me. LOL.) 3/14/22 I'm going to be catching up on life stuffs for a bit. This happens now and then when I'm overwhelmed with answering folx on here, and rather than feel like a jerkwaffle for logging in and not responding, I just don't log in at all. *sigh*  You're welcome to leave a message, and I will get back when I can muster the mental resources to do so. If you're local, say hi at Game Night or the Kinky Carnival.  Wanna really get my attention when I'm back on? Show me your best Semantle score. *cackle*

Oh Sir, your bitch is waiting for you to grab me by my pussy hair and push me onto the bed You tie my hands over my head, put a spreader bar between my legs and then wisper in my ear, how dare you come to me with all this here My bitch is hairless you hear me You pull out your shaver and take off my hair, spanking my clit and pussy as you go Mmmmm When you are done you go into the bathroom and get a soapy washcloth You rub and scrub my lips and pussy You dirty bitch as you flip me onto my belly trying to decide which hole youll shove your big hard almost still cock You spank me first with a wooden paddle that I actually brought zwith me Ill show you who your Master is bitch You grab the back of d hair as you climb on top of me shoving yor dick into me hard I cry out    M  

I walked in, saw her, sat down and was pleased when she lowered her eyes from mine.  The munch suddenly didn't smother like usual. I took her home, got down to skivvies, but she wouldn't lower them for her spanking, which earned her an introduction to Earnie.  Rhino Hide thudds so soundly.  She kept begging for more. After I came all over her back, I got her dressed and we sat down over coffee, and talked.  She was slightly annoyed when the subject of her masculine gender taped up under those skivvies had not been her giveaway.  I had spotted her as the CrossDresser she was, in the same breath that I spotted her deeply seated masochism.  We spent the summer bruising her.  I did insist on silk panties for the rest of our sessions.  It does a wonderful job of administering a bruise from the cane or batt that cotton tiddy-whities cannot.  I built stocks, hoisting timbers, made leather suspension cuffs that broke when we tried them.  I was crushed, darn it.  Stuck to shibari after that.

Seduced by the similarities, but buggered by the differences   This was a phrase I coined while leading a business initiative for an Australian company trying to bring their product into the UK. It ended up being one of the most stressful chapters of my career. At first glance, everything looked aligned: The same (or at least similar) language A shared business need Comparable economic environments And so on But as we got deeper into the work, the differences began to surface: Cultural and attitudinal mismatches between the people involved Regulatory goals that didn’t quite line up Different interpretations of seemingly simple terms like “independent” Very different ways of handling conflict And more little surprises The stress built, and eventually the whole thing collapsed—not with a dramatic bang, but with the slow, weary “death by a thousand cuts” that happens when one key player refuses to acknowledge problems that have become impossible to ignore. Why bring this up here? Because there’s a striking parallel in the world of trying to find a compatible partner in BDSM. It’s incredibly easy to see a profile—someone calling themselves a submissive or a slave, someone listing their likes and dislikes—and think, “Ah, promising match!” We assume we know what they mean. We assume they know what they mean. But that’s not always the case. Something that feels wonderful at the start can hit speed bumps quickly as tiny cracks appear and widen. Tension rises, misunderstandings multiply, and… well, you can guess the rest. Finding a truly compatible, sustainable partner can feel a bit like throwing a dart blindfolded from 100 yards away and hoping to hit the bullseye. And yet, we’re all still here trying. So on some level, we must believe the effort is worth it.

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

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.

+ NRA Bans Firearms During Donald Trump's Speech at Texas Event   BY ANDERS ANGLESEY ON 5/25/22 AT 7:51 AM EDT       The National Rifle Association (NRA) told attendees they will not be able to carry firearms during an event with former President Donald Trump at its Texas conference that will be held just days after a deadly mass shooting at an elementary school in the state.   On its website, the pro-gun organization declared that people would not be able to bring their firearms into the General Assembly Hall during its upcoming Annual Leadership Forum in Houston on Friday, May 27. In a notice, the NRA said firearms, toy guns and "weapons of any kind" would not be allowed inside the hall. It also listed several other items, such as laser pointers and signs among things that were prohibited.   The NRA described its annual leadership forum as being "one of the most politically significant and popular events in the country." But a shadow has been cast over the conference after 19 children and two adults were fatally shot at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas on Tuesday.     (more)       https://www.newsweek.com/nra-bans-firearms-during-donald-trumps-speech-texas-event-1709957#Echobox=1653480476

What if being a subbie is not about sex? WHAT if being a subbie is about holding the hand of the man she cherishes as he dies slowly over 14 months. When he can't be the DOM he used to be. When he needs her to help him use the bathroom or eat or simply sit with him for the whole night, playing him Viking music. THERE is nothing he can do for her. There are no floggers or commandments to 'kneel'. All the hundreds of hours of kneeling are done in the Catholic Church by her, praying for his Atheist soul to have a peaceful death, which he did have. Brain cancer is one of the worst ways to die and he did not feel pain, right to the end. She offered G-d her life just so he would not go to hell...she cried and cried and cried...on her face at home alone, in church, in the street, in the bus, while cooking and cleaning she lamented and weeped till it hurt her to breathe.. for his soul. So what is a subbie? I get these messages asking me what I WOULD DO FOR YOU IF YOU WERE MY DOM. Do you want me to help you use a bottle in the hospital to relieve yourself? or change your wet clothes because the nurse is too busy? or walk 3 miles to buy your favourite biscuits? Do you want me to continue living nearly even when my money runs out months before your life runs out, so that I stop eating for 24 or 48 or 72 hours so I can keep living nearby, losing 16kg and not caring. Do you want me to be berated by your mother because she thinks I am weak and pathetic and flaky and not a strong woman and I take it and take it and take it, because it means I can be near you? Do you want me to wait until you die before I think of 'moving on' as you have been telling me to do for 4 years, but hoping that I will not? Do you want me to be indifferent to the criticisms from others for not getting over you, long after you stopped making love? Do you want me to keep on talking about you even when they are stripping your flat of your belongings and kicking me out and you are still not even in the ground but in a cold fridge somewhere? Do you want me to cry into your puffy jacket as I smell deeply your faint smell...almost gone but my body knows and remembers...? Do you want a slut and a cunt and who knows how to beg for sex or do you want a woman that will lie on your grave and wish it would swallow her up so she can be close to you? Do you want 'until death do us part' or do you want her to offer her body and life and blood to G-d in exchange so that you can be redeemed?  Do you care what she is going through, the pain that is ripping her heart from her chest, if it just means she will stay available until the day you die and beyond...? Do you? Do you? Or do you think you are invincible? Do you think you are the BIG MAN who will always be there for her? Do you write notes and stick it to the fridge saying you will always have her back, and it turns out you cannot fulfil your promise? Do you think you can replace her the way you replace a car because she does not have the 'options' you wanted and you think you can upgrade, but found out you could not? Do you wish you had not rejected her because she got fat and instead had helped her lose weight? Do you want the perfect barbie out of the box, and not someone who has flaws and mistakes in her? Do you tell her off all the time for the tiniest mistake she makes until she is wracked in nervousness but keeps on loving you, even when you get cancer and cannot walk straight or use your phone and need her to turn the key in the door? Are you a prick and should of stopped treating her like a cunt? Do you know that you missed the whole bloody plot of what a slave is...that she is at your feet, devoted like a dog to its master, and you could not see the tree for the woods.? Do you imagine the perfect slave is pretty so as to impress your mates but do not see that the perfect slave sheds tears at your bed that only you see fall? Are you too busy planning the fantastic life you want to have and wonder if she is good enough to be your partner in these great schemes, but years after she has left, she is the one you send a message to when they find a tumour in your brain? Are you humbled by your own downfall and she is the one who supports your 205 meter /150kg frame with all her might so you do not fall over like a tree that has been felled? Do you? Do you? Do YOU? Are you in a fridge somewhere, waiting to be lowered into the ground and you let down the slave that was at your feet, even when you sent her away and told her to find another Master...and she tried, oh she tried, and they all told her she is flaky.... and you look down from your disembodied soul and cannot wipe the tears from her eyes as she cries alone in your flat...? Are you sorry? Are you? Did you wish you were less angry with her for not closing the curtains properly and less angry with her for tripping when she could not keep up with you on the pavement, and less angry with her when she dropped the shopping? Do you wish you had not read so many bloody forums about slaves and subs and wanted the cut-out of the perfect little version and could not see that a slave is human like you and old and fat and not a barbie? Do you wish you saw that she has a heart that bleeds for you? Do you wish you had given her some lovin' and a cuddle instead of punishing her with chastity and never told her why because you are a bastard? Do you wish you could go back to 2017 when she arrived at the airport in total trust and you could do it all again? Do you wish you had known then what you knew now? Do you wish you knew she was the last women you would ever enter and feel that warmth wrap around your cock and cling to you and tell you she loves you? DO you? DO YOU? What if you could go back 9 years and tell yourself she was the last one? What if you could go back and be more gentle when she arrived and not have a list as long as your arm of all she was supposed to do to PROVE HER WORTH? Do you wish you knew that she would prove her worth not in the beginning but in the end...when the cancer had eaten your brain and you could no longer talk or walk or hold up your head but she was there, holding your hand? DO YOU? and what if...what if you could tell all the pricks and bastards out there to WAKE UP and smell the roses! TO appreciate the imperfect little slave in their life. TO let her know she is cherished. TO stop beating the crap out of her emotionally each time she makes a mistake but instead mould her through love and not rules...OH BUT YOU WOULD NOT, WOULD YOU...not if the other blokes thought less of you...no you prefer to send her away and pretend you did not, and that she left because she had somewhere better to be than at your feet. You would lie to everyone but SHE KNEW AND SHE KNOWS and she still came back as soon as you made that call from the hospital saying ' I need you'. She came, just like you knew she would. She stayed just like you knew she would. She mourned and weeped and pleaded with G-d, just like you knew she would...and when you died...she is turned out like the useless bitch that she is, because you never told anybody that she was more valuable than gold...They throw her out with the trash because your ego was bigger than your love for her... and she will say mourners kaddish for 11 months like a widow even though she is not even considered your girlfriend... yet all along she was your slave...and slavishly loved you in a way you did not deserve. The very last thing you said to her when she leaned over to kiss you to whisper how beautiful you are and she loves you was to say 'I am not worth it'. THE LAST HONEST CONFESSION OF A DYING MAN. You lost your ability to speak in the days that followed and could only hold her hand and hold her gaze and hoped she understood how sorry you were....

Seller accepted everything I wanted.. Down to the last details. In underwriting and waiting for a closing date. This limbo has been emotionally draining. I have clients who are sticking by me, wondering if they have one more appt. , or am I leaving. It seems it will be soon, just don't know when.   I have all sorts of emotions.  I'm feeling  so ambivalent  and anxious. I'm stepping so far out of my comfort zone.  I will know noone, will have to learn a whole new area. Grow a circle of new friends, find doctors, dentists, car maintenance, vet, etc etc. I will be setting a cottage for my dad, finding a caretaker for the weekends, and setting up braille lessons for him. There will be much to do, packing, loading moving, unloading unpacking, arranging. On top of this , I'll be going into growing season, which means I will have a lawn on top of landscaping and gardening !  What was I thinking? I'm not 30 😆 I'm  going to miss many of my clients,  they have become special to me.  My friends  too ! The comfort of familiarity and confidence in my knowledge of my area.  I'm a native to my part of the state. I will not miss the politics of the DC area. I've watched it become so contentious and intolerant. I'm so sick of the constant drum beat of pernicious propaganda.             

 What I Require from a Submissive   Submission to me isn’t about weakness. It’s about willingness. About a man choosing, again and again, to place his strength, his mind, his desire — all at my feet — because he knows where he belongs.   Here’s what I require:   1. Obedience with Intention. Not blind, thoughtless yes-ma’ams. I expect obedience that comes from understanding, from effort, from the desire to serve well — not just to avoid correction.   2. Emotional Maturity. If you shut down when corrected, crumble at every no, or need constant reassurance, you’re not ready. I require emotional control, not emotional babysitting.   3. Devotion Without Entitlement. Your service doesn’t buy you access to me. You serve because it fulfills you, because it honors me, not because you’re waiting to be rewarded like a dog hoping for a treat.

 longtermSissy