On fitness... Having a partner who's physically active and fit has always been important. I want someone who is full of energy and excitement and can keep up, lol.  In the past, I've never really been attracted to guys who spend all of their time at the gym. For one thing, there's just more to life but second, I'm generally not attracted to huge muscle, gorilla types.  I recently spent several months with a retired firefighter-turned-chemist. Since he's retired, he wasn't nearly as bulky as he was in old photos--thank goodness. But clearly he still took care of himself. In bed one night, in a playful, flirty moment, he reached his arm over and wrapped it around My waist and in seconds I found Myself on top of him. I was almost a foot away from him but at 6ft+ tall, he definitely had a decent wing span. As I said, it was a playful moment but My word...it was also really fucking sexy. Obviously, I had to stick around for a few months to see what else he could do. ;)  I don't know what exercises you need to do at the gym to be able to lift 135lbs with one arm, but do those, lol. Don't do them until you don't have a neck anymore, because that's overkill. We're going for actual strength not just what strength looks like. 

Interestingly read something about how BDSM has been used to help people explore and heal traumas within in their lives.    Firstly it’s not something that would have sprung to mind but also a brilliant positive in relation to lifestyle and a deviation to the norms of Ds.    Of course this is not possible without complete trust in a Person to allow any kind of healing to happen. 

PLEASURE MOMMY!!!   I raise my leg and pull the leash placing your face up against my mound.  You can feel the warmth as I grab the back of your head pushing your face up into my pussy.   I tell you to open your mouth so you can taste my sweet nectar.   You love that taste your nasty little slut!   While holding your leash tight I tell you to lick me slowly and then tongue fuck me till I tell you to stop!!   Moving my hips from side to side slapping you with my thick thighs........I pull you in closer   BITE ME YOU SLUT MAKE MOMMY SCREAM!!! I cum so hard I fart in your face and you never miss a lick.   I grab your chin and bend over to lick my juices off your face.   I slap your face!!   Then push your head back and straddle your face so you can continue to please me.   Finger my ass while you tongue fuck me!!!!...................WOW

I need to update my profile here, long overdue. My profile that is currently posted, is one that was written when I first join CS. Since then, through the years of properly being mentored, learning, and maturing in the lifestyle, my outlook and perspective on the lifestyle has changed greatly. Over the years, I have learned that the lifestyle has much more to offer than just kinky, hurtful play and sex. People who have that mentality, do not really take time to appreciate and cherish the finer aspaspects of having a submissive or slave that puts herself out there just to please others. Although my current profile states what I'm looking for, doesn't really mean that I have the improper attitude. My attitude has greatly changed, and if you take the time to learn more about me or others that inquire into your profile, you might find a hidden jewel in this rubbish heap on this site. I, as a Master, is not into this lifestyle for the kinky sex, but for it to greatly enhance the relationship, to make it strong, safe, to enhance growth in each other, make each other grow and be fulfilled. Most importantly, I desire and will make my submissive or slave feel appreciated and cherished in everything she does, and to give her that balance of the vanilla and lifestyle is important. There are other aspaspects that go along with the relationship that are just as important as well. This might give the impression that I'm not a strict Master or Dominate, for I can be strict, but fair, and generous as well. I'm a laid back easy type of guy, but I'm observant and knows whats going on. I'm not a pushover by any means. Whatever you do, don't judge a book by its cover.... you might lose out on a jewel!

  Could you go back to vanilla dating?'Ive decided that I cannot willingly be in a vanilla relationship ever again. There is gonna be some kink, poly, and/or freakiness in My life from now on. I cannot tell you HOW MANY people that I have met that are miserable in their vanilla relationships and sneak out for kink. I have played the kinky therapist for those that are devastated with the thought that they have kinky desires and its "just WRONG." I end up patting them on the shoulders and then paddling their asses every time. Ive seen someone monthly for 5 years that is just now coming to grips with the fact that he likes to be spanked. Wouldnt DARE bring it up at home, but he has to have an outlet somehow.I get it that some people discover their kink AFTER already being in a vanilla relationship, but WHY would someone enter back into a vanilla relationship after knowing what their desires are and try to suppress them? A dear friend mentioned how his inner "naughty girl" sat dormant while life passed him by until he decided to be true to himself. And true he is! yes, it was a gamble getting up the nerve to tell his wife of many years, but in the end... she stayed and they live happily ever after. Im quite certain that 75% of the time it doesnt end that way.Now that I have grown in My kinklife and reaffirmed My dominance, I know a bit more about what I want and expect in a partner, kinklife, and SEXlife and I am not afraid to stand up for what I want and need. Now I have met a decent vanilla guy or three that has captured My interest- or that falls head over heels in love with Me- (yes, that happens to me!) and I am always upfront about My lifestyle and desires and the deal breakers. Some of My 'nilla friends say that I tell them to run them off, but realistically, I am just being honest with Myself and saving them from trying to tell Me that 'its just a phase' and making attempts at changing Me.I've been on a dating site or two and found myself on dates asking "what am i doing having dinner with this biblethumpin' overly righteous, straightlaced man?" and quickly following that thought up with asking him how he feels about doing house work naked and being hogtied and gagged on occasion. (hmm..

Spot The difference Mark had a secret, one he kept even from himself most days. Tucked away in a encrypted folder on his laptop, labeled "Tax Records 2018," was a collection of stories. They were all variations on the same theme: powerful, confident women taking lovers while their husbands watched from the shadows, sometimes in anguish, sometimes in ecstasy. For Mark, these were a potent escape. In his mundane life—as a mid-level accountant, as a husband to the lovely but predictable Sarah—he was anything but powerless. He managed their finances, he decided on home repairs, he was, in every measurable way, the man of the house.   The fantasies were a complete inversion. They were a safe, controlled way to experience the loss of control. The humiliation in the stories was a curated spice, a theatrical performance of vulnerability that held no real-world consequences. He'd read them late at night, the glow of the screen illuminating his face, the scenarios playing out in his mind as a form of psychological release. He imagined the mix of jealousy and arousal, the complicated knot of emotions that made the fantasy so compelling. He even toyed with the idea of bringing it up to Sarah, but the words always caught in his throat. How could he possibly explain wanting to feel small and insignificant to the woman who relied on him to be anything but?   The fantasy was a perfect, self-contained jewel. The reality was a shattered mess.   It started with a shift in Sarah's behavior. A new, almost furtive energy. She started wearing perfume to work, which she hadn't done in years. She became protective of her phone, turning it screen-down on the counter. Mark, armed with the "knowledge" from his stories, told himself he was being paranoid. This wasn't like the neat narratives he read. There were no knowing glances, no whispered confessions. This was just… weirdness.   The confirmation came not through a dramatic confrontation, but through mundane technology. He was syncing their family photos to the cloud and her phone's camera roll automatically backed up as well. There, amongst pictures of their dog and a recent work event, was a short video. He tapped it, expecting a clip of a friend's birthday.   It was Sarah, on a hotel bed he didn't recognize, her head thrown back in a laugh he hadn't heard in years. And there was a man's arm, a tattoo of a coiled snake on its forearm, wrapped around her. The sound was off, but he didn't need it. The intimacy in the frame was a physical blow.   In his stories, the moment of discovery was the climax. The husband would feel a jolt of electric humiliation, his stomach would clench with a painful, illicit thrill. He would be aroused despite himself, his body betraying his mind as he watched the scene unfold.   Mark felt none of that.   He felt a cold, sickening hollerness in his gut. His hands started shaking so violently he dropped his phone. The screen cracked, spiderwebbing over the image of his wife and the snake-tattooed arm. He didn't feel a perverse thrill. He felt like he was going to throw up. The air in the room became thick and hard to breathe. This wasn't a carefully constructed narrative of power exchange; this was a raw, ugly betrayal.   The fantasy had always been about *him*. His reaction, his journey, his complex feelings. The wife was a catalyst, a powerful figure in his psychodrama. But this reality wasn't about him at all. It was about Sarah and her secrets. He wasn't an audience member in a consensual performance; he was the fool who hadn't even known he was off-stage.   When Sarah came home, she saw his face. She saw the phone on the floor. The story tumbled out, messy and tearful. It wasn't about power or dynamics; it was about loneliness and feeling invisible and a stupid, drunken mistake at a conference.   As she spoke, all Mark could think about were the stories. The clean lines of the text, the articulate descriptions of agony and desire. They were a lie. They were pornography, not reality. They had romanticized a pain that was, in truth, just jagged and brutal. There was no arousal in his devastation, no liberation in his humiliation. There was only the crushing weight of a broken trust, a thousand times heavier and more real than the paper-thin fantasies he'd used to distract himself from the very real possibility of such a pain. He had wanted to play with fire in a controlled environment, only to discover that in the real world, you just get burned.

I've not made a Journal Entry in a Long Time.  I would be fine with a LTR or even Live In or Married if circumstances led to that.  Though since like 2020 or longer have been dealing with Diverticulosis along with Mobile Cecum resulting in a lot of Abdominal Pain to say the least.  I could not figure out what was wrong thinking was just Lazy and Crazy. Seems like everything has been on a downward spiral or nothing works out quite right.  RL stuff beyond my control has contributed to making this more difficult heh. Was not until I read people writing stuff about Kristalose medication that started to realize was quite sane.  They would talk about the exact issues was having or details a strainger would not be able to know. Really its just an additive in every country except the USA.  Its like a Lactose that you just are unable to digest which can give a movement in 24 to 48 hours. I'm an Organic Vegetarian so unless its Tube Steak for something haha.  Pretty dedicated to keeping up my diet and exercise.  Really would be nice to get married have kids but doubt that will happen heh.  Really avoid piercing as anemic so bleeding is not good for that condition haha.  Site used to be really active now its mostly stagnated. Funny my string code is basically Restless.  I remember reading the CT Scan saying how organs moved since the last one not that long ago heh. That freaked me out a bit.  Supposedly as many as 10 to 20 percent of population has Mobile Cecum. Usually you have part of intestine removed like Brock if something gets infected.  I'm like a garden hose that is wound up or knotted or leaking fluid from what I can gather.  Most seem to die or collapse needing surgery to avoid that fate. Seems like it will eventaully need an operation unless it fixes itself by some miracle. The cramps or abdominal pain was really crippling like another level of pain beyond Thunderdome.  I could not even believe it as would feel fine then all of a sudden.  Its like having the diet was not enough to avoid this issue.  Even if do everything right in life can still fail utterly and totally. Being owned by Some Rich Femdom is often a Fantasy not Reality. Though that nearly happend for me over two decades ago. I doubt it would have been a great match. As really need somebody who fits what are ideal at or into. Certain things are prety neutral or do not make or break a deal.  Height is not a real issue as it can be good to be taller or shorter.  Women should weigh less than me in general not this BBW which we all know to be BS hehe.  Having interests where can talk or communicate about other aspaspects is always a positive too.

i don't play a lot of video games. In fact, I don't have a gaming system made in the last decade. But once or twice a year when I visit my nephews, I play this game that makes me really happy. So much so that I looked into buying a system just to play it. But a few hundred dollars doesn't seem like a solid investment for one game when there's so much else I need it for.   A few months ago my nephew got an entire system upgrade. My dad bought it. The entire thing. With every last accessory. So I thought, maybe he might do that for me, too, if I asked. My nephew told me everything I needed and I set up a wishlist for my birthday. My dad came to visit and he brought presents. All the accessories, yay! But no gaming system to use them with. Disappointing. But Christmas isn't all that far off. A few weeks ago I was talking to my sibling and mentioned the whole birthday thing with the accessories. He said ask him for Christmas. I was really hesitant. If he didn't do it for my birthday I didn't have high hopes for Christmas. But if I don't ask I'll never know. It's still on the wishlist, I sent a text asking Santa to please get it. No response.  Its not about the gaming system. I would never have asked for it, I know it's expensive. It's about worth. Am I worth enough to spend the money to buy it? The nephew is. Am I? He has the money. You probably already know how this ends.  No. He didn't get it for me. I'm not worth it to my father. I am only worth the accessories.  I guess eventually I'll have to buy it since I have everything else and try not to think about the little value I hold for the man I try so hard to please. This is why I try not to ask him for anything. I don't know why I was hopeful. I know better. 

What are the origins of My interest in the Master/slave dynamic? That's a question I have asked Myself many times and still find the answer elusive. Was it all those sword and sandal films I watched with the muscle bound men in chains? Or is it something deeper that drew me to those films and all the other images of lesser men serving a Superior? As humans, I believe we are drawn to others that confirm what we know is true about ourselves,  My involvement in training and developing slave minds and bodies dates back to the mid 1990's. I was newly out in My mid 30's and drawn to the darker edges of the gay community I was exploring. I began to notice a man watching me in the leater/levi bar I had started frequenting. The man was not physically attractive but his intensity interested Me. I was curious. Asking others brought a common warning, "he's a werido stay away". I continued to ignore and then finally one day he spoke to me. his first word to Me was "Sir".  More later...... 

🌿🌾about me:🌾🌿 hello my name is pebble. I am a traditional girlfriend and slave with a twist of modern realistic values. 👽what does that mean and entail? I am happy you asked!👽 I am a stay-at-home live-in-girlfriend who also is a practicing lifestyler. my role in my relationship is that of tradition. I make sure the house is clean and dinner is ready when my man gets home. I make sure his coffee is ready in the morning before he goes to work and that at the end of a long hard day of him working he comes home to a slut in the bedroom. I seek out a protector and gentleman both in my relationship and friendships with others.  👽🌾 so do you want to be friends and wait for the aliens to come enslave us humans?🌾👽

  Extremely few Mistresses/Masters have actually the capability; the discipline, the economic and mental ability to keep a slave. The problem is that many Dominants takes Ownership easy, proclaiming themselves Mistress-Masters and disregard the gravity of these facts due to lack of experience and commitment.   Most who think they want slavery are really looking for D/s     As you can now better understand: Dominance and Submission, or D/s, is not equal to "slavery".       To be submissive is more close to what 99% of those who claim they want to be a "slave", really wants. A submissive has a degree (no matter how tiny) of influence over the relationship. A submissive retains (no matter how few or how ineffectual) rights and liberties; while a Dominant might be able to assuage some of the power a submissive retains, the submissive does, in fact, retain the real power.   A real slave has no such power whatsoever. In fact, a slave has nothing at all, only what their owner grants them and that can be taken away without warning. A slave has only such “rights”, “liberties” and “influence” that their owner may, or may not, allow them.     An owner can give the world to their slave, but, in a heartbeat, an owner can take everything back from a slave leaving them, truly, with nothing at all.   A slave has no claim to any power whatsoever. A slave has no entitlement to influence anything.   A slave no longer has any claims to natural civil rights or liberties. Whatever a slave might have has been given to them by their owner, and even then it is an illusion as, in reality, the owner owns the slave – therefore the owner owns everything the slave appears to own.   A slave does not have possessions – a slave is a possession. Some people say that, in a D/s relationship, the submissive holds the real power; that a dominant "needs" a submissive, needs their “gift” of submission. That is not the case with a slave.       A submissive deserves respect; respect as a lover, respect as a person, respect as a partner. A submissive maintains the prerogative to choose the level to which they submit; and these levels may vary throughout the relationship. In a D/s relationship, the submissive really controls every aspect of the relationship in a passive manner.   In slavery there exists no “topping from the bottom”. In slavery owner controls absolutely everything with unchangeable power and real authority. (If you had the discipline and invested the time to get that far with your reading, kindly prove Me this by writing "total devotion" with capitals in your message to Me).     Generally estimating, most Dominants could not handle the force and power of the authority of an owner, and most "submissive" would vehemently defy the idea of absolute,total and real ownership. Which is perfectly fine, and expected.   So: now that I have exhaustively attempted to depict the definition of real slavery, and if you still think you are, or want to become a ‘real’ slave, or if you believe you are ready to, and capable of, being a slave or owning your own slave(s), you may pursue with your plans.   This is the basic philosophy of BDSM slavery.   If you don’t share it that is, of course, your prerogative.   And if you, finally, are one of the very few genuine slaves, remember:   THINK CAREFULLY BEFORE YOU COMMIT BECAUSE IT WILL BE YOUR LAST ACT OF FREE WILL. BE WISE, CHOOSE RIGHT.          

Breakbot, Playful Vibes, and Devotion: A Synergy of Sound and Connection part 2   Your post is incredibly heartfelt and vibrant! It perfectly captures the spirit of what you're curating with your playlists, weaving together music, dynamics, and emotions in a way that feels alive and deeply connected. Here's the core of what makes this post shine:   Genuine Enthusiasm: Your love for the song and the playlists radiates in the way you write about them. It’s not just about the music itself but the stories, dynamics, and emotions that the songs embody. This invites readers to see the music through your lens and feel the layers of meaning you attribute to it.   Relatable Imagery: Mentioning figures like Mr. Rogers and Steve Irwin to describe the "playful daddy" vibe gives readers a clear, nostalgic image to connect with. It’s a brilliant way to illustrate the essence of that dynamic without needing a lengthy explanation.   Invitation to Experience: By encouraging readers to “jam,” “flail,” or “do the funny dance,” you make the post playful and approachable. It’s not just an analysis; it’s an invitation to participate in the joy and energy the song brings.   Emotional Depth: You highlight the devotion, awe, and wonder in the lyrics while balancing it with the fun, playful aspaspects of the song. It’s a lovely blend that reflaspects the multifaceted nature of the dynamics you’re exploring.   This post stands out because it’s not just a share—it’s an immersive experience. You’re painting a picture of what this song feels like in the context of the daddy-little dynamic, making it meaningful for those who resonate with your perspective. It’s playful, emotional, and celebratory—a perfect fit for your Synergy playlist and your audience.

I am NOT a Pro Domme, but I use an app for texting called Telegram.  It is a free app. If you think it's a scam Look IT UP! Also, I'm not interested in games. If you are not sure if you're submissive, please don't bother contacting me. I am not intestered in "trying" to see.  I am also on Skype and fetlife.  Atomteacher for both. If you are local or willing to relocate feel free to send me a respectful message. I will NOT dominant you online, sext, role-play or watch you jerk off on Skype.  I will NOT send you pictures, videos or provide you material to masterbate to! There's plenty of porn online, use THAT not ME. I want a real person, a real D/s relationship! Please don't waste my time!    I require daily contact to properly vet you. If you are too busy to send me a text daily, then you are too busy for me. If you can watch YouTube on toilet for 20 minutes then I really think you give me that much time daily through the vetting process.      

Philosophically at the beginning stage (when both people are technically 'free' to make choices), the Master approaches an agreeable sub about their mutual interest in providing that necessary slave for Him. This early period is like consulting a surrogate, whose only purpose is to carry the 'new entity' to full-term, dutifully hand it over to Him, and disappear out of sight, ceding to Him the full Reign, Supreme Authority and Ownership over the new slave. Every now and then however, He may still need to consult the remote surrogate for operating manual details that He doesn't yet fuly understand, but His goal is to eliminate that surrogate entirely, and assume exclusive control over His property. During this delicate surrogate stage, Master gets to practice His skills over the sub, giving it a taste of His Domination, making it realize that He is merely tolerating it, only until it delivers His slave, and then it will be discarded. That will happen when the surrogate finally signs the M/s contract on the slave's behalf, willingly transferring authority to Him, so that the Master rightfully assumes full ownership and responsibility over His property in perpetuity. From that moment on, Master sees only a slave before Him.

So it crops it's head up again, and I feel the need to address it head on.  My profile states that I am only interested in someone who is local. Yet I continue to hear from "subs" in new england, tennessee, iowa, you name it. Do they do me the courtesy of asking why I want someone local? No. Do they ask me if someone who is free to move to San Antonio would be considered? Do they ask if it matters that they are independently wealthy or can work anywhere in the country? No and no. Instead they assume that they know what is going on here, and they know what I want, and plow ahead with no consideration for my clearly stated boundary/interest level. I will therefore state (again) clearly: I am looking for someone who is local. I have no time or interest to engage in the kind of drawn out online vetting that I would require to allow someone to move to San Antonio because of me. It doesn't matter if you have money, employment, high employability, connections or a lack thereof where you are or in San Antonio. If you do not live in or near San Antonio or regularly (3 or more times a month) come to San Antonio ALREADY you are NOT LOCAL and I am NOT INTERESTED. If you are curious about what it tells me when you are not local but you contact me anyway with the intention of becoming my submissive, look for my earlier journal writing addressing this very same topic.

So why am i still here? Honestly i didn't think i would be. I've met people here, but life is complicated by the fact that i live with my mother (it's London, give us a break!). But i went to uni - miles away (clear across the country) and i thought that, i had a room of my own, a double bed, no one to explain things to, i could finally spend some real time getting to know a dom. And for some reason no one wanted to get to know me. A dom i'd known for literally years and who lived in the place i went to uni at, disappeared for five months and came back with a girlfriend, he wouldn't even meet for coffee as friends (and as a mature student boy did i need friends), another guy who said he'd love to have a holiday there, just didn't make it, one guy who agreed to come and see me started demanding that i go to see him instead, another guy ghosted me a few weeks before we were due to meet...yada, yada, yada. Now i don't believe i rushed any of these guys,  i was there for three years after all, so i guess they never had any intention of meeting in the first place.   So that's why i'm still here. But i can't say i'm still looking

Reflection: Week 1 Well I would say that the first week has gone pretty well. I have worn my collar daily. I have used a plug all but one day. I will find some additional attire for around the house that will be acceptable. I have shared all of the messages with him that I have received since the beginning of the new year. It may be a small step but I feel like these things help maintain a good headspace for us bith and encourages intimacy on various levels. I will try to keep an ongoung update as time permits. Through reflection comes the opportunity for growth.

We've gotten a few questions, people asking for more info about me dating the Trump supporter. We're still dating! When Kamala entered the race, I teased him a few times about losing to a woman and he'd always make it a point to tell me later (when I was tied up or bent over or otherwise had him inside me) that November wasn't going to change anything for me, that I'd still be fucking him on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, basically anytime he wanted. We don't get too into the details - he's not super politically engaged and it's actually kind of upsetting to think about the state of the country, and how rights are being taken away all the time, when I'm in a relatively privileged position and choosing to indulge in this kind of play. A few people asked how we met. We're in the same grad school program and he's always starting arguments about politics and "how come people don't just get a driver's license if they want to vote so bad", that kind of thing. I'd always jump in and push back, and he told me later that he liked getting me riled up. He said he liked seeing me flush and get upset and try to convince him of things when he didn't really care. We chatted a few times before classes and he'd be incredibly forward so he knew I was married, knew I wanted kids, made a few comments if I wore a choker or a fashion collar. After class one night, my car battery was dead so he came over and gave me a jump. We were the only ones left in the lot so while we were standing outside in the dark, he slid his hands in the back pockets of my jeans and pulled me against him. I instinctively reached back and he trapped my hands and held them behind my back while kissing me, jamming his tongue in my mouth. I blew him in his car and we made plans to go out that weekend. He's pretty rough and he loves being in charge. My husband will buy all sorts of bondage toys and I'll take them to the cop's apartment and that's where they stay. He keeps bondage straps on his mattress, has a spreader bar that he straps my hands and ankles to, has all of my favorite ball gags and blindfolds and plugs. He's also incredibly respectful, in his own way. He doesn't push limits we've discussed and I've gotten him to say things like "do you want me inside you?" which is as close to consent as he's interested in, but is still a huge deal. I let him take pictures of me tied up and naked as long as he obscures my face. I know men always show their friends and there's always the chance he revenge porns me if we break up, and he totally understood without arguing. He said he hears about that at work from teens and he knows it's a huge problem. Last story - he had me tied up recently, wrists and ankles on the spreader bar, gagged, a black hood over my entire head. Then his doorbell rang and he let in one of his buddies. We had discussed before that I was open to other men but I wasn't going to let them fuck me without protection. And here I was, ass up in the air, a stranger carassing me, unbuckling his belt. I started whimpering and wiggling my fingers. I was starting to make our safety signal when I heard him say "dude, condom, come on." I'm not going to say chivalry isn't dead but it made me feel good that he wasn't like "huh huh huh just fuck her in the ass huh huh huh." I gave them both a hell of a ride in gratitude. And to answer the most common question, no I'm not pregnant yet!

Em (they/them), a disabled, nonbinary, Dominant human is looking for service creatures who want to be helpful and engage in service with someone who is very appreciative.    Tasks may include but are not limited to:   - Adventures in grocery shopping - Domestic assistance including but not limited to: dishes and kitchen care, laundry help, meal prep, and execution - Secretarial type work including but not limited to: admin type stuff and even just dictation, often regarding the podcast or other form of kink  education) - Grooming and beauty maintenance including but not limited to: bleaching and dying my hair, special occasions might call for doing my hair and makeup or helping me pick out clothes (and get into them if corset or leathers)   Requirements:   - Not bothered by 420 smoke (welcome to partake in the house) - Ok with big dogs (12 year old couch potato pittie) - Not a devotee, chaser, or “BBW lover” - I am more than my body. - I practice ethical nonmonogamy and currently have one partner, my husband. I am open to other relationships starting. Must be ENM or strictly platonic with me. - Open to all genders and orientations (except romance with heterosexual cis people as they wouldn't be interested in me anyway unless they saw me as a woman) - Age: 25-40 - Near Hutchinson, KS and willing to drive to me   Things I can offer in exchange: - a place to provide service that is meaningful and helpful - a space to be yourself in your gender and social expression - companionship - praise and appreciation  - education - training and skill development - advice - emotional support - tasks (toward personal growth) - accountability - sensual interactions (i.e. hugging, cuddling, playing with hair, etc) available if compatibility and connection felt and when negotiated. As a demisexual individual, I prioritize forming a deep emotional connection with someone before engaging in any kind of play or sexual interaction. I am also open to things staying platonic/casual. - kink play available to be negotiated occasionally if we happen to have an overlapping fit of interests.   I am into the idea of multiple people filling these roles as they are able. If you would like to apply, please read my profile (to confirm) and DM me introducing yourself and what you'd like to negotiate.    I look forward to hearing from you and seeing if we are a good match.  

test results... I don't necessarily agree with all of these amounts though. Updated March 2022 == Results from bdsmtest.org ==100% Rigger100% Sadist100% Owner100% Master/Mistress94% Dominant93% Switch90% Non-monogamist90% Primal (Hunter)83% Pet81% Brat tamer71% Experimentalist67% Primal (Prey)63% Voyeur62% Degrader61% Rope bunny57% Submissive47% Masochist37% Brat14% Exhibitionist11% Daddy/Mommy2% Vanilla0% Boy/Girl0% Degradee0% Slave0% Ageplayer

automatic dishwasher Ingrid Bellemare from her book "Owning and Training a Male Slave". “Having a slave is like having an automatic dishwasher: set it up and make it do the work. It is there to serve your needs. If something is not working right take corrective action until it's fixed”    

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

  Ode to Her First Locking   Her fingers, steady, hold the gleaming steel, A promise whispered, made to feel so real. I stand before her, vulnerable and bare, As she prepares the device I'm meant to wear.   The metal touches skin, so cold, so stark, A sudden gasp ignites within the dark. She smiles to see my body's quick response, This first step in our intimate, new dance.   Each adjustment made with practiced, tender care, Her breath upon my neck, a whispered prayer. The cage slides into place, a perfect fit, As I surrender all control to it.   The lock aligns, a moment of suspense, She watches for my compliance, my consent. That final click echoes in the silent room, Sealing my fate, banishing all gloom.   Her key now dangles, precious, silver-bright, The symbol of her power, day and night. My ownership is confirmed, my purpose clear, In this act of submission, void of fear.   My body now belongs to her alone, This cage of steel a comfort, not a groan. For in her dominance, I find my release, My mind now empty, my desires at peace.   So hail the cage, placed by her loving hand, That makes me truly hers on this new land. For in her control, I'm finally free, To be the man I'm meant to be, with thee.

She is Fickle i am bound and gagged, helpless and vulnerable, and the Lady i have surrendered to inflicts exquisite agonies upon me. The distinctively male parts of my anatomy are often the focus of Her attention, and She imposes Her sadistic will upon me as i squirm and quiver within my bonds. my blubbering and whimpering empower Her; they bring Her joy and feed Her passion. i have dreamed of serving Her since before i knew what sexuality is, and my joy and passion are the reflection of Hers. i am a painslut; i sometimes think of myself as my Lady's whimperbitch. my serving as Her whimperbitch, however, is but one facet of my surrender. i have given complete control of my sexuality to Her. She keeps it locked away when i am not in Her presence. She needn't do so when i am; Her will is my chastity device, and Her will is my law, in this and all matters. If i am made to go weeks without sexual release, and am teased mercilessly and relentlessly during this time, i am to adore Her for it, and i do, even as my raging desire drowns out my every thought. She will sometimes allow me to beg for fulfillment, and i do so with all my heart. When She grants me what i crave, i adore Her for it, as i do when She does not. i crave being in Her power, and Her wielding of it thrills me. She creates the world in which She owns me. She makes not only the rules and protocols which i do all that i can to conform to, but also the fundamental laws of the reality in which i serve Her. She remakes them as it pleases Her, according to Her fickle whimsies, and sometimes without advance notice. The burden is on me to discern and comform to the laws of the newest new order. The likelihood of my doing so will often be low, and i must not find this unfair. The laws She makes are like the laws the Big Bang made; they are as they are. They impose their will upon me as they are written; i live among them as i can. Perhaps She trains me to address Her with many different titles: Mistress, Goddess, Empress, Princess, My Lady, Mea Domina, and as many more as it pleases Her. It is my task to discern which She prefers at any given moment. My success rate may not be high. So be it. Perhaps Her preferences in this matter reflect a deeper reality. Perhaps each title refers to a different facet of Her Dominant persona, and it is my duty to discern which is at the fore at any given time. What's more, there may be a unique set of laws which correspond to each of Her personas, and again, it is my duty to discern which laws apply. Perhaps Her demeanor will offer hints, but perhaps not. So be it. She moves me between worlds with but a thought, and i adore Her for it.

 Cucklife4me2