The parcel She didn’t often get the house to herself this early in the day.  The kids had been collected by their father at 3pm and her Friday evening and the weekend stretched before her.  Pub with friends tomorrow night, she thought. But this afternoon she had planned to masturbate herself stupid.  She ignored the usual, quieter, stick vibe in her bedside drawer.  Instead she slid the innocuous-looking brown box from under her bed.  It was covered in dust but, inside, her large black mains wand was pristine.  She stripped off, put some lube onto the large head and lay on her bed; legs spread wide. Something was waking her up.  She had brought herself to orgasm 3 times before having to stop because her clit was too sensitive for her to make herself hold the wand there any longer, and she must have dozed off.  The light through her curtains had dimmed considerably and she guessed it was about 6pm.  What the hell had woken her?  Then she heard the knocking at her front door and realized that someone was outside.  Shit!  The new set of butt plugs she had ordered.  She didn’t want to miss the delivery; not when she had the whole weekend in front of her to try them out.  Worried about how long the delivery person had already been stood on her front doorstep, she threw on the closest thing to hand - an oversize jumper - and started down the stairs. As she approached her front door she shrugged irritably at the jumper, which was far too large and kept slipping off one shoulder.  She paused for a moment when she saw the large shape through the frosted pane of glass in her door.  Whoever was out there was enormous and she was wearing nothing but a jumper.  Quickly she reminded herself that she lived on a main road, surrounded by neighbours, and that she really wanted those butt plugs.  She opened the door. He had been about to push a card through the letterbox and go back to his van, kind of annoyed that the last delivery of the day was out and he would have to return the parcel to the depot, when the door suddenly opened.  His eyes widened in surprise and he lowered the parcel to waist level when he saw what stood in the doorway.  The woman’s long blonde hair looked delightfully tousled, like she had just got out of bed and her green eyes looked very dark.  Her exact shape was difficult to see in the shapeless jumper she wore but, as it stopped high on her thighs, he could guess that she was plump and curvy in all the right places underneath it. One of her shoulders was bare and he could see that the last of her summer tan hadn’t quite faded from it.  The woman quickly folded her arms.  He thought she looked a little embarrassed to be standing there in just a jumper.  Didn’t she realize that folding her arms pushed her very large breasts together and increased the amount of cleavage he could see?  “Lovehoney delivery for you,” he said, instantly realising that he had let slip the fact that he knew what was inside the ‘discreet’ brown box he carried.  The sight of her had obviously driven that knowledge to the forefront of his mind. Her mouth opened and she felt her cheeks turn crimson when she heard the words from the tall stranger.  Her arms unfolded and fell to her sides and, for a moment, an image of this hazel-eyed stranger pushing one of her new butt plugs into her arse as she held it open for him flashed across her mind.  She blinked and the image was gone, but she wondered how long she had stood there, staring, before stepping forwards and saying, “Yes, that’s right.” As she stepped forward he noticed that she hadn’t corrected him about the origin of the parcel.  He also noticed that she was still not quite as tall as he was, even though he was stood on a step below the level of her hallway. God she looked attractive, he thought, like she’d just finished having sex but wanted more.  She probably had her husband upstairs waiting, although he noticed that she wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.  “I hope I wasn’t interrupting anything,” he said, handing the parcel to her.  He watched her flush again and say, “No, no, I’m all alone.”  As she took the parcel he found himself staring straight into her eyes.  They were dark green and seemed to be asking for something that she hadn’t articulated yet.  He couldn’t believe the next words out of his mouth, “Look, I hope you don’t mind, it’s been a really long shift, please could I use your toilet?” She made a small step back into her hallway and stared at the man in front of her.  Medium build but very tall, he was wearing work boots and jeans; a casual shirt was tucked loosely into the jeans and she could see a t-shirt underneath.  Her eyes lingered on a well-worn, brown leather belt, then they travelled to his face.  His eyes were twinkling mischievously but he also looked a little nervous, like he was about to change his mind about something.  He looked strong and gentle at the same time and she felt her belly warm as she looked at him.  “Of course, the cloakroom’s just behind me.” He stepped over the threshold and pushed the door closed behind him before saying, “Thank you.”  The hallway was very small and she had stepped back into another doorway, to the left, that looked like it led to the living room.  There was a door in front of him so he took off his muddy boots and stepped through it.  The cloakroom was small; fitted under the staircase.  He suddenly wondered how he was going to urinate when his cock was semi hard.  He would have to wait for a moment to let it go down. She put the parcel on the kitchen table before returning to the living room and perching on the arm of one of the sofas.  She tried to collect her thoughts.  There was a large, strange man in her house, and she was naked apart from a loose jumper.  She quickly came to the realization that she didn’t care one bit.  In fact, she recognised that she was aroused.  Maybe because she had fallen asleep masturbating, but she suspected it was more to do with the man in her cloakroom.  If someone had stolen knowledge of the physical attributes of her ideal man, they would have created the person in her downstairs cloakroom.  She heard the flush and water running and then realized he was stood in the doorway looking at her again.  Making a decision, she straightened her back and shoulders and confidently asked, “Would you like a nice hot coffee before you head off?” He had been about to thank her again and say his goodbyes, when the woman with the just fucked hair and bedroom eyes thrust her tits out and invited him to stay for a coffee.  He agreed but, as she asked him to follow her into the kitchen, he realized he was playing with fire here.  He told himself, and by that he meant his cock, to wait for a very clear signal before committing himself to making a move.  After all, perhaps all the 40-something women in this suburb invited delivery men into their homes for coffee, whilst strolling around in next to nothing, just to tease and give themselves something to talk about at the school gates the next morning. She flicked the kettle on and took milk out of her fridge, noticing that he had leant himself on the back of one of her kitchen chairs.  Watching her.  She could see the parcel containing the butt plugs on the table behind him and her cheeks blushed again.  He had folded his arms across his chest and crossed

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.

What's odd to me are the lack of guys who drive,vhave a car, want to go to fetish clubs to be played with who are are submissive NOT submission fetishishists and NOT kink dispenser chasers. A submissive wants to please me first A submissive knows if I am giving time and play energy he gives his time and energy to please me, therefore we are both giving. A fetish dispenser chaser is in gimme mode.  A submissive guy who's first topics are not kink and has experience in a Dominant Woman/submissive man relationship with kink mixed in. Frustrating that I feel the need to spell this out after I was asked what a FLR was. <--- yup not experienced guy asking, bye bye.

On having no experience... My preference would be a partner with some level of real life experience. That being said, if you don't have a lot of experience, it's your job to properly educate yourself.  I'm not sure why so many male submissives think it's attractive to approach a FemDom and say, "I have no experience, but am eager to have you teach me and mold me." Personally, I find it lazy and an instant turnoff.  It's the same fantasy-induced fever dream, over and over again. I've spent 18 years in the lifestyle and when I first started out, I spent quite a bit of time learning and honing My skills.  Subs and slaves who want to be taken seriously do the same. There are several excellent books to start with for basic training skills. If you're on FL, I highly suggest following slave underscore mission. he's got ninety or so journal entries and it's a great way for any beginner to find a place to start. Beyond that, there are classes, workshops, snack and learns...seminars; etc.  Bottom line, if you want an experienced and educated FemDom, you're either going to need real life experience or be able to show that you've taken considerable time and effort to learn the basics. Of course, once under consideration to become Mine, I would train you to suit My specific needs. But it's the difference between training runners for a marathon who have only done a 5k vs trying to train people who can barely walk a mile. 

I’m not a perfect Dom/Sadist/Master or play partner as you read in your fantasy eroticas, but I’m confident I can give and receive the best experience based on mutual effort. If you expect constant pleasing with nothing in return, count me out. . With 6-7 years on Fetlife and over 10 years of kink knowledge, I’ve had positive real-life experiences. If you're more experienced, I’m open to learning. Also, I’m here for real-life connections, not endless text games. The 6 feet + man who believes more in exploring as much aspaspects of the kink world . Gentle to high pain, respectful and caring to degrading, dominating & enslaving woman. I love it all. .  GentleTorturerBack 

DO NOT ASSUME THAT I HAVE JUST GHOSTED YOU!  If you have messaged me, especially multiple times, and you see that I haven't responded or opened your other messages, do not assume that I have stopped talking to you or that I don't wish to talk anymore.  My life is a tad crazy right now, but for anyone I wish to not speak to anymore, I do let them know or they were told prior of why they were blocked. YOU WILL KNOW, & BE TOLD THAT THE COMMUNICATION IS FINISHED!