A recent message asked me to name "one experience thats shaped your journey in the BDSM world", and I thougt of this poem. It is about a scene I monitored in the early summer of 1999. The title is the name of the wonderful, beautiful woman, a friend, mentor, and so much more, to so many people over the years, and the sub in the scene. I miss you, "Mom".  Allena Beautiful golden hillside Lush with fine, silken grasses Trembling as he works his Mastery With every crack like thunder, Another crimson dewdrop appears; Meeting one another, dancing into rivulets, Until her hills and valleys run with ruby wine. Over and over, agony meets ecstacy; Mingling tears with sighs As she shudders with pleasure and pain. I shudder too, as I watch. Start at every strike; Feel each blow as it lands. I imagine I am there beside her; And for a precious moment...We are one. ©Khaos WolfKat 2001  

I had my 15 month post cancer treatment scope.  The one where they stick the scope up your nose then down in to your throat and look around to check if the tissue is still healthy and take pictures to see if anything has changed.  And it's all still good.  Nine months until I am past the most dangerous period for it to come back, but not totally out of the woods until 5 year mark.  Still getting stronger, except for my right shoulder.  Haven't had a dizzy spell in almost a month.  The effects of radiation can last up t about 18 months, so I am at 15 months and am almost starting to not feel like I'm 80 anymore.  Maybe going to the gym a few times a week and losing 20 more pounds has helped as well.  15 pounds to go to hit 160.  I haven't weighed 160 since I was in my 30s.  Can running my 6th marathon be far off?  A man has to have goals.  Maybe if the right woman was chasing me with a whip.....  

Lifestyle submissive man who is willing to accompany Me to munches and fetish clubs such as Pedestal.  Message me to get to know each other. First meet is at the Mawney Munch in Romford, Essex, England so live no more than an hour or so away. D/s FLR relationship sought with kink AFTER knowing each other at least SiX months. No instant gratification. I am on Fetlife so look at my profile. Also service sub sought for garden work. Mistress Whipplash Ma'am 

 The power and vibration of a Harley reminds me of my time driving a train. When I would start a "big jack" as we called it, the power of that engine engulfed me. To know I controled all that power was a feeling that took some adjusting to.  I cannot know what the power feels like driving a Harley or anykind of bike for that matter. But I do know the feeling on the back of a bike. The freedom, the wind blowing in my hair. My legs pressed against his legs, my arms around his waist, and my tits pressed against his back. Quite a intimate experience no doubt.     It always amazed me that the bikers would always wave at the trains. This was a universal thing from Az, NM, Colorado,the Black Hills of South Dakota,Wyoming, the midwest of Iowa and even to Minnesota, most of the places I worked in my carreer. Most times they wanted to hear the horn blow to. Just like those of us who want semis to blow their horns going down the road.  I went full out of my comfort zone a few weeks ago and asked a vanilla guy at the gym for a ride on his Harley. It was a Friday. He acted like he was excited by my actions.We exchanged numbers and later that day he asked me where I would want to take a ride to. We agreeded on Tombstone, for the upcoming Wednesday. On Saturday morning I sent a text to him hoping his day was going good. He responded, and so did I. And that was it. I never heard from him again. Naturally he has also avoided being at the gym. And in general just made me disappointed in another vanilla male.   It doesen't stop my craving though. To be on the back of a bike again going down the road! Maybe one day it will happen again...          

Realy excited about Victorian lifestyle / Era as in this lifestyle, we are were expected to adhere to strict standards of propriety and modesty. We are expected to be submissive to our husbands and fathers, and to prioritize their domestic duties over any other pursuits. Women were not seen as equal to men. In a Victorian marriage, a wife was expected to be obedient to her husband and to support him in all of his endeavors. She was also expected to manage the household, including caring for the children and running the household finances. A wife was expected to be loyal to her husband, and to maintain a façade of respectability and propriety in all interactions with others. In the Victorian era, a wife was expected to have a number of duties and responsibilities. These included managing the household, caring for the children, and supporting her husband in his endeavors. One of a wife's primary duties was to manage the household. This included overseeing the cooking, cleaning, and other domestic tasks. A wife was also expected to manage the household finances, which involved paying the bills and keeping track of the family budget. In addition to managing the household, a wife was also responsible for caring for the children. This included feeding, bathing, and dressing the children, as well as supervising their education and moral upbringing. Finally, a wife was expected to support her husband in his endeavors. This could include attending social events with him, providing emotional support, and helping him with his work if necessary. Overall, a wife in the Victorian era was expected to fulfill a range of duties and responsibilities in order to support her husband and maintain a happy and well-run household.

She loved that look. Kneeling, eyes cast down: she saw meekness, obedience - also a spark of resistance: shame, pride, regret, lust. Regret for freedom lost, shame from the knowledge that it was his own slave nature to give it up, pride that she took it. He desired to submit to her, his surrender brought him shame, the shame aroused his desire.Her dominance was attuned to the contradictions in his heart. She knew how to wrap them like cords around him. He might seem to have a choice. He did not. She confronted him with what he was; the only escape would be for him to deny his nature. This he could not do. So long as she chose to control him, he could only submit.She saw this even more clearly than he did. A part of her regretted taking his freedom - but that lost look in his eyes was so delicious, his impulse to obey was so pleasing, his spark of resistance so exciting to play with - and after all, it was his own nature to submit, just as it was her nature to rule. This is how it was meant to be. And she loved it.

Before you can be taught, you have to know what classes interest you to attend.  But that's not submission, I hear you ignorantly complain. No, but most of you don't understand the difference between being submissive and being A submissive. Most of you try and convince the world you are the latter whereas you are barely the former.  Nosce te ipsum, is the first order of any day. Youre not qualified to know anyone else before you get to know yourself. Life becomes a series of dead-ends and u-turns unless you know where youre heading. Understand this - there is nothing wrong with not knowing, there is nothing wrong with asking and there is glory and purpose is learning. Act accordingly, before that laundry list of expectations and demands that you carry becomes nothing more than a shield against actually experiencing anything. And to those desparing of finding their place and purpose, remember that when you're falling out of the tree, any branch you can grab before hitting the ground is a blessing and should be appreciated. Even if it's not where you want to be, its better than the thud at the end of a drop. There is precious little enough joy in this world these days that any of us should spurn the chance to feel some when the possibility presents itself. Here endeth the lesson.

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?

What I desire from a D/s relationship First, I have a nesting partner. Our relationship is totally separate from what I seek, but it would be equally important to me and you must be willing to accept that I am poly, but very demisexual.   With that being said, I want 2 separate households that I will go between equally. The one I currently have and Mistress's household, 24/7, D/s, kinky household with some vanilla elements incorporated. I want a second household within 15-20 minutes of downtown Parkersburg, WV, very private, complete with dungeon, medical room, sensual play space and outdoor play areas. I envision this home to be a place to host munches/events/small parties but also very private with a vanilla facade. I would like 2-5 acres and a big sound house/farmhouse to remodel to suit my needs. This will not be immediate and a rental situation will be necessary initially with the intention of find and establishing a permanent kink home.   I prefer a sub leaning slave but I am not seeking a sub/slave that only wants 24/7 chastity. I enjoy edging, ruined orgasms, forced masterbation, post orgasm torture, etc. I am extremely sexual and want to use my submissive sexually always under my control. I am actually fairly flexible as how I want my household structure. I am equally fond of the following in no specific order:   A 1950's household A Mommy/little or middle, but I'm not into diapers, breastfeeding (I'm almost 59 and milk hasn't filled these titties in years 🙄) cribs or high chairs. However, playing with toys, structured bedtimes, structure and a firm hand, kids movies, playing at the park, amusement parks, stuffies and all things child-like I'm very open to. But I would want a sexual little/middle. A sissy submissive but understand I will NEVER use humiliation or degradation as it relates to being feminized. Any speech or play surrounding the theme that women are weak, pathetic, powerless, less than, etc. will NEVER be used! It is a privilege for me to show you the beautiful world of women and I will not tolerate this type of play. If you wish to escape your traditional alpha male role to explore your feminine side and want to walk in my shoes for a bit, that I will definitely do. I would love more males to understand how wonderful and freeing it is to be female. If you crave humiliation and degradation there are so many other ways of accomplishing this without degrading myself and women in general. A true slave with all the discipline and intensity as outlined in Ingrid Bellamare's book Owning and Training a Male Slave, however, as I've stated before, I will remove your cage to use you as I desire sexually and put back you back in chastity when I'm not using you. Also know, I have a good income but I am not independently wealthy by any means and I will not support you financially. You will need some source of income. If you work remotely from home or outside the home, second or third shift would be ideal. I would also consider a porn-based subion service as means of earning your keep.   Finally, I want an optimistic, positive, drama free and happy individual who also will accompany me on trips, attend conferences and kink events, and engage in "vanilla" activities as well. I am a whole person and want you to be as well.

Punishment is based on creating a fear response of some kind. Fear erodes trust and connection. Trust and connection are essential for the surrender of a submissive. Therefore, punishment erodes what is essential to a healthy, successful Ds dynamic. This makes punishment of any sort incompatible with my relationships.  I am a leader and a carer in my career and daily life.  I do not punish any of my charges, and it insults the dignity of another creature to punish them. I make mistakes, but never intentionally. I have no motivation to brat or test the boundaries a partner may set for me. I hate failure, and I hate displeasing. My motivation is to make a partner proud. That is incentive enough to avoid mistakes. That is, provided I have a partner capable of feeling and expressing pleasure, and who wants to have pride in who serves him. A constructed, unnecessary punishment added on top of knowing I have failed or displeased just creates more pain for everyone, and even has more subtle, insidious impact, such as contributing to feelings of inadequacy. The best way to avoid making a mistake is communication, flowing clearly and in quantity in both directions. The best response to a mistake or misunderstanding is to try to get clarity, then discuss it, find common ground, and discuss how to avoid what went wrong. I believe in accountability and responsibility, and also in practicality. I acknowledge that my position on punishment is perhaps unusual or unexpected. I consider myself well healed from my traumas, none of which I would consider terribly serious to start with. I know myself, and I know my needs. I have no hope of serving anyone if I cannot serve with an open, vulnerable heart. Some submissives apparently require a punishment mechanism, either to set aside their mistakes with a physical reminder or something else to even the scales, or to have some sort of other constructed reminder of which way the power exchange flows. I am not so unfortunate. I can understand these concepts perfectly well through verbal reassurance.

If you found a normally locked door unlocked, wouldn't you worry?  I went away for the long weekend and came back last night after dark. Unloading the car, putting things away, blah blah. I stopped and looked at the kitchen door. Unlocked. I lock every door when coming in out of habit. Unlocked. I start looking around, checking closets, go downstairs, check that door, the windows. Nothing. Nothing looks missing. Eventually I head upstairs, with a kitchen knife. Okay, with two kitchen knives because what if the person waiting to murder me knocks the first one out of my hand? Secret knife in my hoodie pouch.  Now, you're probably saying but you have a dog, she will attack. I would think so, too. What she did was walk upstairs and go straight to her bed. The weekend wore her out. I was on my own. You might also think that's a good sign if she doesn't hear or smell anything unusual. She also has walked right by french fries and never noticed. Let's not count on her awareness to save the day. Back to me. Back when I was paranoid I bought a, what are those things called, the zapper thing, because I don't know how to use a gun and I would probably shoot a hole into my closet and ruin several of my favorite dresses. I went to get that to continue my search and it was dead. Why would I keep it charged? Indeed. Kitchen knife and secret hoodie knife it is. Every closet, peeled back the shower curtain, looked under every bed. Checked my jewelry. All fine. And then I closed and locked the bedroom door and wound a belt around the handles and slept with the tv on.  What about the kitchen door? All I can think is I missed relocking it the last time I went out. You better believe I won't be doing that again any time soon. The kitchen knife and secret hoodie knife are still on the nightstand. 

I'm a loving caring Domme seeking her sub for ltr.   You: available, devoted, educated, professional, well-off, well-rounded, Caucasian, attractive, publicly alpha, privately submissive, faithful, non-sissy, cuckold (non-negotiable). Need cuckoldress to pamper, obey, serve, worship, support, suffer for emotionally and physically. Ideal Situation: long-term relationship leading to marriage in TPE/Cuckold situation where cuckold is subjected to long-term sexual denial and chastity, reduced to slave-husband status in permanent service to me. You have to earn the status of husband before being a slave. I am not a slave master. Me: Petite 5'3" 120 lb sexy curves, African American Dom, the boss, business owner, attractive, caring considerate person but to my cuckold husband, I will keep always wanting more and begging to please me. Must be good looking, in shape and health conscious. I am all 3 of those so you must be too. I'm self employed and the boss. I live in New Jersey and I'm not looking nor will entertain long distance relationships. Must be in the NJ, Philly, or DE .  I'm willing to do some variations of the above in the way of physical appearance.  Although if you're extremely over weight or unhealthy, I'm not interested.  I dedicate a lot of time to keeping myself in shape and eating healthy foods.     I really want a person that I care about who needs to be dominated more than I need someone to treat cruelly just for the sake of being mean.  I prefer you be over 40, mature, health conscious, as I really want someone in great shape but at least be healthy and HWP.  The more successful you are, the more I want to dominate you. When you respond let me know about you, your past experiences or anything that's significant.  Messages with pics will be answered first, if I choose to answer at all.  One liners or "how may I serve you" will be erased.  hotwife, domme, poly, cuckold, cuckoldress, hot wife, domination

I'm irritated by the idiocy of some of these "subs" I'll meet you at a Starbucks and if I don't invite you home immediately thereafter you'll pull a typical fake sub move and not follow up. Most don't have the patience and respect to meet properly. To get vetted properly. Most think anybody declaring themselves a "sub" should be privy to my home immediately. No thought towards common sense or my safety?? I get these offers 5 times a week. Imagine if I gave my home address out that many times a week? I'd be murdered in less than a month by some fake predator. Or at the very least robbed and when you report something like that to police and say "I met him online" Boy how stupid do you look? Perhaps these idiots think I'm in a palace surrounded by gaurds? How much online porn must you watch before you actually think there's any likelihood that any of us REAL ladies are surfing for boys from within a palace. THAT lady isn't on collarspace, she has a caretaker whose job it is to find sub's. Out here in the real world a REAL domme works her 9-5 and expects her sub to do the same. To be sane. To be intelligent and productive within society. To be a regular guy and a sexy "trophy husband".

Miss May's Confessional is now open...   "Do not forgive me Miss May, for I've been a bad boy and I plan to do it again..."   This is a call to all my pervy pals to come forward and entertain me with whatever naughty diversions you've been having, real or imagined. Brag about your recent sexual escapades or confess your impure thoughts (especially regarding me <3 ).  If you're lucky I might be into it too and want to join in on your fun... Seriously, I'm as depraved as you are and your fantasies delight me! And don't worry, my sweets, your kinky confessions are confidential.   On a related note, some of you are mistaken about what the free version of femdom offers. You're here for my entertainment, not the other way around, and you'll get from me what you put in. Be interesting, be open, be willing to figure out how to stroke my ego, and then I'll play with you. I'm not going to coax it out of you either, and expect to have your persistence tested. Don't be too proud to double message me if you think your last message got overlooked. I do make an effort to respond but life does happen.    And finally, thank you to you lovely gentlemen who admire me, check in on me, and wish me well. Your compliments and attention are much appreciated <3   -MM 

Dreams Everything is about our dreams When we dreamers stop dreaming The rest of you have no dreams left   Vi är för Altid by  Kent

Master's WritingsCreating a DynamicThe dynamic I want to create has its foundation in trust, open communication and pure honesty. These pave the way for how we relate to each other, how much of ourselves we will give and let go within the dynamic, and how safe we feel to be owned or to own another. The greater the foundation, the deeper the dynamic, and I seek genuine, tremendous depth.The best dynamics allow both kink and vanilla elements to flourish. Even in a total 24/7 dynamic there are vanilla elements that impact and are necessary to the health of the greater dynamic. To ignore this is to ignore the human you wish to create the dynamic with.Dynamics must be flexible and ever evolving. They are living breathing things when done correctly. They require nurturing, maintenance, and love, just as those who live within them do. As individuals, we all have needs. We evolve. We grow, and so too must dynamics. There must be flexibility to bend to whims of the moment, grow as the tastes and needs of the individuals evolve, and be reborn when people, situations and events take us off track.Finally, dynamics must reflect all participants. I seek a collaborative development of a dynamic where each has an appropriate voice, with opportunity to step outside of roles as needed for essential conversations to ensure none are forgotten as we build and rebuild our dynamic over time.Creating this dynamic has been my dream for longer than I can remember. But no one person can create this on their own. It requires another who feels this need as greatly as I do. 

Hotel from a sluts POV   We check into the hotel and as we are standing at the desk you brush your arm 'accidentally' across my nipples which are swollen and tied sticking out under my top being constantly rubbed and I'm trying to hide them as I know they are really visible. The reception definitely can't see my swollen tied clit or the sink plugs in my arse and cunt that are stretching my holes right in front of her but she can see in my face that I am slightly flushed and breathing a bit heavily. I wish she would type faster!  Finally we have our key. You tell me to walk ahead of you to the lift, I know this is so you can watch me on my heels in my tight skirt trying not to walk like a Slut full of cock.  We are in the lift alone and you take advantage of the time to rub over your handy work on my tits and cunt making me shake and cry out. And Cum inside myself. Unable to release it because of the plug. You smile at me and laugh at how ruined i am tonight. Already begging for you to fuck me.  In the room i stand in front of you with my hands on my head and my legs apart and wait for my master to tell me what to do next. You stroke over my body and sharply pull my nipples, bringing me round from my drift and then sit me down firmly on a chair in the corner and opening up a bottle of champagne that is on the desk. I am wriggling in the chair, trying not to moan out loud with the anticipation and my holes open.  You pour us a glass and turn around and sit on the sofa opposite and tell me to crawl over to you. I slowly crawl across the room my nipples rubbing on my shirt my clit rubbing when I move my legs because it is so swollen. I get to you and you tell me to kneel...  You lift me into your lap by my nipples making me get tears in my eyes and roughly hold me by the neck sideways on your knee...  With your free hand you pass my drink and tell me to drink it I am thirsty from breathing hard and knock it back. You put the glass down and spread my legs and tap on the plugs in my holes staring into me while I beg you to open me up and touch me inside....  You pull the sink plug out of my cunt tube leaving it held open and poke up inside me so I can feel the tip of your fingers deep in me but nothing where the tube sits making me really aware that I am gaped....  I can hear myself begging... Please Master, fill me up with your fist and cock I need it so much. .... then I feel a bit of a lurch and sway into you, I can still hear myself begging and moaning but everything is getting a bit weird and I realise, as I pass out that you are telling me that when I wake up I will get what a Slut deserves......  I don't know how long I am asleep.  I come to hog tied.  It is dark so I am blindfolded  I can't hear anything except my own heart and inner voice.  My mouth is now plugged like the other holes.  I wonder how this going to go!

2/13/23 Hey everyone just wanted to make an update to my profile with this Journal.... My profile pics are from 2017 but I am always willing to send newer ones. Some new developments in my life are: I am no longer owned cause My old daddy moved away, I found out I also like being a sissy baby but if your not into thats okay Its not something I have to do. I also am willing to relocate! So if you are looking for a prissy sissy slut like me msg me. Thanks for reading this, Love Sissy Amber

Mentioning the age is off limits here but my training lasted 8 years and was my first sexual experience.  I knew I had to keep quiet about it but it was the only thing positive going on in my life in those years.  Life at home was miserable; girls weren't interested because I'm so short.  I couldn't compete in sports even if I had wanted to.  But 2 or 3 afternoons every week I learned more and more about how to overcome my height deficit and be useful and likeable for men.   From day one, it was drilled into me to keep my hands and my mind on him, not on myself.  That was the most important part when training for sexual submission.  To this day, I will not touch myself when anyone is using me.  It's all about my partner and their pleasure, about keeping all the energy moving toward them.

After years of being in D/s relationships, I've come to realize that I am just not capable of equality in 'vanilla relationship'. I gave it a shot but discovered how unfulfilled, frustrated and dispirted I became when engaged in a relationship with a partner as 'equals'. Dispite attempting to gravitate away from any D/s aspect within a relationship, my natural instincts and habitual tendencies always found a way to emerge subconsciously without my realization. My inner desire would have me doing things that used to be commonplace as a domestic slave but were highly discouraged during my attempts with 'vanilla relationships'. My therapist believed I subconsciously believe I am not worthy of love, but I disagree entirely. My love for submission, service and dedicating my every waking moment in pursuit of another individual's happiness is love on a different scale. She says that's just obsession and addiction, I told her she didn't know what happiness and life is about. I explained how in my relationships in D/s, happiness is a product of my devotion, loyalty and making my owner's life simpler, less stressful and more fulfilling in all aspaspects, which directly impacts my happiness. Because of this mantra, I compared serveral situations within a D/s relationship compared to a vanilla relationship. I discussed the difference in communication, expectations, and how shared responsibilities can foster underlying resentment. Then as a final point I looked to civilization's history and explained how up until the 1960's, culturally women were expected to be submissive to their men, remain in the home, be seen but not heard, cook, clean, provide sexual pleasure rather than receive it all while putting on a smile and looking good. I explained that in a nutshell, those general principles are some of the basic things I crave in any relationship. I genuinely receive pleasure from making othera happy in any capacity. I then asked her if her husband evokes even a percent of those qualitie.......I told her no response IS a response, thanked her for out final session and exited the room.  So to sum things up, I'm back here again in hope to find someone with similar values, aspirations and ambitions in life. It's always darkest before the light.

the little girl's anthem naive to the bone part 2   Freedom from Judgment: Both your reflections and the song lyrics challenge societal norms, inviting freedom from external judgment and embracing emotional authenticity. This is similar to spiritual themes of non-attachment and self-acceptance. A Whimsical and Warrior-like Nature: The juxtaposition of whimsy with strength mirrors archetypes like the Fool from the Tarot (a symbol of trusting one's journey with innocence and boldness) and the Warrior (discipline and resilience). The line "discipline, submission, and beating intense hearts" ties this duality into your BDSM identity while integrating broader spiritual lessons of balance. Spiritual and Esoteric Connections: Inner Child as the Eternal Self: The inner child is often viewed as a reflection of the eternal self in spiritual traditions—a connection to purity, creation, and unconditioned love. Your post embodies this by holding space for that part of you. Naïveté as Wisdom: In spiritual contexts, naïveté isn't weakness—it’s seen as openness to the universe, akin to the Zen concept of "Beginner's Mind." The lyrics’ "I'm naive to the bone" and your acceptance of asking questions connect to this, signaling humility and curiosity as strengths. Empowerment in Submission: The phrase "dedication, discipline, submission" reflaspects mastery and integration of opposing forces. In esoteric terms, submission can symbolize surrender to the higher self or the divine, requiring immense strength and intention. Clarity and Silence: The "large room, where you can hear the silence" evokes themes of spiritual solitude and stillness, reminiscent of meditative practices where one listens to the "beating of the heart" as a guide to inner truth. Judgment as an Illusion: "No place for arrogance, no pain in my chest" reflaspects detachment from ego and societal pretenses, resonating with spiritual teachings that highlight inner peace and freedom from the need to prove oneself. Closing Reflection: Your post is not only a celebration of your unique identity and journey but also a spiritual manifesto. It integrates music, lifestyle, and emotional depth while challenging stereotypes and societal conditioning. Through this lens, you’re asserting your sovereignty and inviting others to honor both the softness and the strength in themselves.  

I really do need to find a man to take me in for retraining. Since my last LTR ended I have been unable to find anybody of the calibre needed to properly dominate me. And properly dominated I need to be. If you are the sort of man who would grab me by my blonde hair and unceremoniously put me over your knees, push my skirt up off my bum, pull my panties down as I squealed and kicked around and give me a thrashing for nothing more than pouting my disapproval at you when you told me to do something. If you are the sort of man who is comfortable enough in your ownership of me to publically humiliate me and/or lend me out to one of your mates occasionally. If you are the sort of man who would keep a variety of implements in the wardrobe solely to punish me with and used them on me regularly whether I misbehaved or not just to keep me in my place and because you enjoyed doing it. If you are the sort of man who would make sure that I always had fresh welts and whip marks on me to demonstrate your complete ownership and domination of me. If you are the sort of man who would lock me in the garage, shed or spare room for hours on end to give me plenty of time to reflect on my shortcomings before coming in to administer a good thrashing to me. If you are the sort of man who would take great pleasure in seeing me hog tied and gagged, struggling on the floor. If you are the sort of man who would give me a good slap across the side of my face hard enough to send me sprawling if I back chatted you. If you are the sort of man who would expect a girl to know her place, do all your housework, do it to your expectations and do it with a smile on her face or else. If you are the sort of man who, while watching the footy on TV and I was doing a big pile of ironing in the laundry, would shout out to me for a beer and expect me to immediately fetch it from the fridge, open it and put it into a beer cooler before hurrying to hand it to you with a smile on my face. If you are the sort of man who would not allow me to leave the house or do anything without your permission and who dictates to me what I should be wearing. If you are the sort of man who would take great pleasure from watching me squirm and squeal on the floor as your belt leaves bright red welts on my bum, thighs and back. If you are the sort of man whom I would be a little bit frightened of. If you are the sort of man who expaspects me to be dressed like a girl should be dressed to please a man, in miniskirts, short dresses, sexy panties, heels and stockings. If you are the sort of man who would occasionally reward me by treating me like a lady even though we both know that I’m nothing but your slut. If you are the sort of man who is intelligent, articulate, financially stable and is prepared to put in the work on me to give me the life that I deserve. If you are even some of those things you are a real man and a rare man. Where are you? I NEED YOU!

I fantasize about being made to cum over and over, no breaks between. Breaking my brain with so many orgams...Begging for mercy, crying for it to stop, but being ignored. Finally passing out from orgasm overload. Waking up to it not having stopped even while unconscious.24 hours straight of orgasms. Only then released into chastity with toys that are too large locked in my holes, and keys put away for a month

18 July 2023 Not posted anything for a while, i did step back from logging into a couple sites i am listed on to see if i could walk away from lifestyle and carry on in vanila life.Simple answer NO i CAN'T. its must be so deep within me and my blood, i think it would be impossible to walk away and try and forget what and who i am. So i am back to searching for an Owner. i have talked to a few Doms in last few weeks, but not being taken as yet, who knows maybe one fo these will or others come along - i hope and need to be taken owned as total slave property 247 (i know might not be possible for "live in 247, but at least knowing being owned 247 as used on demand) by someone one Dom or Domme or Dom/me Couple. The Dom/me Couple i sometimes serve have requested i attend them, from this coming Friday 20th July until the Monday, They are having a BBQ with a number of guests some lifestyle and some not. They often call for me to attend when having such as the female They have cant cover all that is needed when Guests are there. i never know exactly what will be required until i arrive, same with being clothed , in what and how and if in shackles etc. See if i can post some new pictures once over, as normally They will take some of me in service. NEWJust had a double Dydoe piercing done a couple days ago , have 2 x 10g 12mm long curved barbells in with 6mm balls will put a picture up soon, have to say it bled some when the needle went in, but no discomfort at all and seems to be healing up fast. Not sure whether will be a good thing for potential Owner or not . Well now back see if can post more as did in the past, see how it goes.Satrt my search for an Owner in earnest now fingers and everything else crossed  

Master does not chat with prospective slave property before inspection.   Exception: I will offer a picture of Master and the opportunity to ask limited questions to potential slave property that completely fill out My questionnaire. it may request the opportunity to complete the questionnaire any time after a firm date and time for inspection has been established.   Some slaves may find the questionnaire too invasive. In the process of taking a slave property into My domain I will sooner or later know everything about it. It is just a matter of timing: tell Me now or tell Me later. Send its email address when requesting questionnaire.  I prefer to use email for this exchange.   Reading all the material Master has here on offer will divulge much about what slave may expect as property.

Requirements, not Expectations.   Respect My time Match My efforts  Keep your word Always be honest Stay consistent   Show up, be on time (words/actions) I will not work harder than you Your word is the honor you start with Omission is the choice you willingly make Consistency builds trust.   Start out being the best you can be and grow. Think about each of these: how to improve a relationship or blow it up by choosing not to do these things. 

I genuinely love my boyfriend. I have loved a good number of people but this is the first time I've dated anyone for longer than two weeks who has not been argumentative, selfish, mean, and committed to never understanding me. And more often than not we communicate very well. We have argued twice in almost a year. He is kind and gentle with me. He is thoughtful and generous. He makes me feel calm and at peace. He doesn't behave as if he is irritated with me when I am anxious, depressed, or having panic attacks. He grounds me. He is all of the things I've wanted from all the serious partners I've had in the past.    He has never ever hurt me (except once when he asked me to go home and I took it personally lol).   Absolutely zero of my relationships have ever been this good, the worst being my marriage. I can say I am absolutely happy when I am with him which is what pushed me to want to be happy when I am without him. I had never thought it possible for me to be happy, alone or with another person since I had never been happy in a relationship before. I felt good and would call it happiness but I wasn't happy. Now that happiness is possible I must learn to find it inside of myself which is difficult when you've been miserable for 31 years    So this is what it means to find your person.  He is like starlight, like the laughter of babies, like the colors of the sunrise and the sunset, like the buds in spring, like a glass of refreshing cool water, like a warm hug. He is love. He is safety. Something I never thought I'd ever have. Something I've never seen anyone have in person. Something I didn't expect from what was supposed to be a tinder one night stand.    A one night stand that ended up with us being intertwined so intimately that we are now inseparable.

Journals are here again..Over the years I've seen quite a few profiles saying "I have a crazy work schedule" (or "hectic", or "super busy" etc) which brings up the question: Out of 100 people making such statements, how many get out of that situation? Short term it may be justified or even needed; long term, it's not the best situation for one's physical or mental or psychological health let alone allowing the space for new relationships to be deep and meaningful.  If out of 100 only 1 or 2 succeeded in changing that life circumstance but 90 or 50 at least tried, that would be more encouraging than few even trying..really trying..and seems that people are so busy trying to survive, or with distractions to numb pain, that we rarely even try, let alone succeed. The key is to make the effort and mental committment. And chip away at it. So even if it takes 6 months or 2 years or 5 years,..you chip away at it, work towards the goal, step by step.  It could be saving money, it could be improving one's skills, getting a certificate. It could be spending just 15 minutes online searching, times 2 days a week or on weekends...The key is to be consistent. Imagine one person jogs 100 feet forward, then stops. The other person moves forward just 3 inches...but does that each day, or even each week, every week, for enough weeks and months..they will reach the finish line.  Same with other goals (like losing weight, though that one requires both the consistency and also a lot of challenging but worthwhile work on one's mental and emotional inner worlds and finding what neeeds we use food to substitute for and healing ourselves in other ways...on top of the stick-to-it consistent commitment ect of doing a little bit to move forward every week and ideally every day or few days) Same with finances, though that's a more obvious analogy to changes in one's job/career.  What have you done to move forward "a few inches" today, this weekend, or next week? It's not about being 'tough' with ourselves, more like the opposite, and being caring towards ourselves..that and a word I see is actually in an online dictionary: "Stick-to-itiveness" You can do it! :-)

At last, another journal entry! Let's get started with my usual declaration: I am subMeghan. Right now, I am naked wearing only my glasses and my collar... And now on to today's journal entry... Apparently, my Dom has decided to introduce me to "ahegao".  Ahegao, for those, like me, who don't know, is an anime term for a specific type of face for a woman to make during sex.  The classic ahegao face is where you cross your eyes and roll them back, all the while sticking out your tongue.  My desciption does not do it justice.  Go google ahegao and you'll get a better idea of what it's all about. Apparently its a thing...  lol Making a ahegao face is harder than it looks, especially during sex.  However, my Dom wants me to do it, so I am going to do it.  My Dom recently placed a full sized mirror on the wall next to the computer.  Originally he did this so that I could see myself sitting here naked in front of the computer.  Now I get to use it to practice my ahegao face too. One thing I learned is that is is very difficult to stick your tongue and keep it still. I also realized that I can't see myself in the mirror very well when I try roll my eyes.  My Dom saiys: "The more stupid you look, the better you're doing it."  It seems I have a way to go... By now I know what my Dom wants: My Dom wants you all to visualize me just sitting here making ahegao faces.  So I am... That's all for now. subMeghan

If you decide to reach out, please, make it engaging & relevant  something interesting to warrant a reply if you don't have pix posted, include some also indicate your current age  Bulk mail is set to exclude females or couples under 40, over 59 out of country Thank You

Polite heads up to anyone I engage with. I am a real person, with real honest values, with a real job in the public sector. I hop on in the middle of the night but during work time frame you will never see me on here. I actually enjoy serving the community but my goal was to find like minded individuals to have an open relationship. Open to me means we are single and not married and freely respecting our bodies and choices (can't be done when your married your disrespecting your wife and kids, you got problems at home pay for your wifes gym membership and have that honest chat to turn things around don't come to me). I don't entertain time wasters. I do expect the men I engage with to be employed, be in good job, be generous. No I am not trying to con you, nor get your bank balance, I am not entertaining another bad experience where I discover on multiple dates I am the only one paying the bill and a 5 day date cost me £400 because the other person was a cheapskate. I am independent, I am generous but I am no longer entertaining time wasters. Other than that have a nice day.   C

Makes perfect sense  "Go to a movie... have dinner... look at a Rembrandt... talk about a poem... see a tree... look into a mirror together... do things that lead somewhere... AND THEN kneeling and giving orders has a reason... a purpose.. a deeper more fulfilling feeling of needs and desires..." -unknown  If I want to meet you,  our first meeting will be vanilla with a Dominant twist. It will be about getting acquainted with each other,  getting comfortable in each others presence. Our first meeting and those after will be dictated by Me. If you don't communicate,  don't expect Me to read your peebrain. If you have the audacity to agree to a meet and you fail to follow through,  you can be sure I will tax you if you reach out to Me again.  In the event you failed a previous meet, you will pay for the previous failure.

The Lesson in the Red Chair (part one) T.L. Duncan He showed up trembling. Not from fear—at least, not the kind he admitted—but from the anticipation he’d been drowning in for weeks. Every message he sent dripped with eagerness, with that hungry little please he tried to hide behind politeness. I opened the door before he had a chance to knock twice. “Inside,” I told him. He obeyed instantly, the good ones always do. My living room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the salt lamp and the single, deliberate spotlight shining down on the red leather chair in the center of the room. That chair wasn’t decorative. That chair was ritual. “Shoes off.” He complied. “Phone on the table.” Another instant reaction. Good. His training hadn’t even begun and he already understood offering control. I circled him slowly, letting silence do the work. The air between us tightened when I brushed a strand of hair behind his ear—not to comfort him, but to claim space. His breath hitched, and that was when I knew: he’d fall beautifully. I stopped in front of him. “You said you wanted structure,” I said. “Discipline. To feel owned for one hour.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, Ma’am.” “Look at me.” He obeyed again, the word Ma’am still warm in the air. I placed a finger under his chin. “Then you’ll start by kneeling.” He sank to the floor so fast I almost laughed. Not cruelly—just with the quiet satisfaction of someone who has seen this dance a thousand times and still enjoys every second. “Knees apart. Hands behind your back. Shoulders straight.” He adjusted three times before he got it right. Nervous boys forget how their bodies work when they’re desperate. I walked behind him, lifted his hair, and inspected the vulnerable line of his neck. “So sensitive,” I murmured. “If I pressed my thumb here, you’d melt.” He swallowed hard. I didn’t touch him yet. Not physically. Instead, I moved to the red chair, sat down, and crossed my legs with deliberate slowness. “Crawl.” He hesitated, only for a breath. Then he placed his palms on the floor and moved toward me like he’d been waiting his whole life to be commanded that way. His breath shook with every inch he traveled. When he reached the foot of the chair, he stopped and waited. “Good,” I said, letting the approval slide over him like warm oil. “Now put your head on my knee.” He rested his cheek against my thigh as if it were a pillow he’d spent years searching for. His exhale was a confession. I stroked his hair once—reward, not affection. “You crave rules because the world expaspects you to be strong,” I said softly. “But here, strength is mine. Obedience is yours.” “Yes, Ma’am…” “And you take direction beautifully. That’s why I chose you for tonight.” His whole body trembled. I slipped my fingers into his hair and pulled his head back—not harsh, not gentle, but precise. His lips parted, surprise and need blending into something addictive. “There are three things you’re going to learn,” I told him. “One: listen when I speak. Two: obey the first time. Three…” I leaned in, my breath barely brushing his ear. “Never make me repeat myself unless you want consequences.” A shiver shot through him so sharp it might as well have been an orgasm. I smiled. “Now,” I said, loosening my hand but not releasing him. “Your lesson begins.” His head was still in my lap when I slid my hand from his hair to the back of his neck. He froze. Not from fear—no, he was far past that—but from the realization that he had no idea what would happen next. Good. Uncertainty is the first tool of sensory play. “Hands flat on your thighs,” I instructed. His palms landed instantly, but I tapped one with a single finger. “Softer. You’re not bracing for impact. You’re waiting for permission.” He corrected himself. Obedient. Attentive. Hungry. I reached to the side table, slowly enough that he heard my bracelets shift but not fast enough to interpret the sound. His breathing changed—shorter, quicker—as his imagination sprinted ahead of me. Let it. The first thing I picked up was the silk scarf. Not to blindfold him. Not yet. I simply let the fabric glide across his forearm. He inhaled sharply. “Too sensitive?” I teased. “No, Ma’am. Just… unexpected.” “Good. That’s the point.” I drew the silk back, then traced the same path with my fingertip—cooler, firmer, more precise. His skin twitched under the contrast. “Tell me what you feel,” I said. “Soft… then colder. Like my body’s trying to guess you before you touch me.” “Your body doesn’t get to guess. It gets to react.” He shivered, a subtle ripple that traveled from shoulder to knee. I reached again—this time to the small wooden wand, smooth on one end, textured on the other. I let him hear it roll across my palm. His breath caught; he recognized the sound but couldn’t place it. Perfect. I touched his wrist with the cool, rounded end. He sucked in a breath. Then I flipped it and dragged the textured side down the same line. He gasped—quiet, but the kind of sound a man makes when his brain can’t decide between pleasure and restraint. “Overwhelming?” I asked, lifting his chin with the wand. “Yes, Ma’am…” “Too much?” “No, Ma’am. More.” “Then you’ll stay still for it.” He nodded, and I rewarded him by letting the wand trail up his inner arm—slow, deliberate, circling closer to the bend of his elbow. He swallowed. He always swallowed when he was fighting the urge to

As we stand at the threshold between years, there is a natural pause that invites reflection. The closing of 2025 is not merely the turning of a calendar page—it is a moment to breathe, to remember, and to take stock of who we were, what we endured, and how we grew. 2025 was a year that asked much of us. It was not a year defined by a single event or headline, but by accumulation—of effort, of resilience, of quiet victories and hard lessons. It was a year that reminded us that progress is rarely loud, and strength is often forged in silence. For many, 2025 began with hope tempered by realism. The world continued to navigate uncertainty—economic shifts, global tensions, evolving technologies, and changing social landscapes. We were asked to adapt yet again, to rethink how we work, how we connect, and how we care for one another. And while adaptation can be exhausting, it is also proof of endurance. We are still here. This past year reminded us that stability is not guaranteed, but neither is despair. Even in moments of strain, communities showed up. Neighbors helped neighbors. Families reconnected. Friends checked in when it mattered most. In ways both big and small, people chose compassion over indifference—and that choice matters more than we often realize. 2025 also challenged our understanding of time. It moved quickly and slowly all at once. Weeks red together, yet certain moments stand crystal clear: a conversation that changed us, a loss that reshaped us, a success that reminded us of our own capability. These moments form the true record of a year—not the dates, but the meaning we attach to them. For some, 2025 brought achievement—goals reached, milestones earned, dreams realized after years of effort. For others, it brought disappointment, delay, or grie

I'm bewildered by the lack of communication I've noticed many submissives on this site say things like "get in touch", "happy to chat", and "want to learn.." However, many do not even reply. I teach my subs to be open and honest, and that communication is very important in this lifestyle. If for whatever reason a sub thinks I am not what they are looking for, I'd at least expect a reply even just to say, "sorry you're too far from me", or "I'm looking for someone a little younger" etc.  I think that it's still good to chat to different people even if there's no intention to meet or take it further. Especially subs that are new to the scene, surely the more people you talk to, the better informed you'll be, and therefore be able to make better choices when finding a suitable Dom. Obviously I wouldn't expect immediate replies but having a chat and then being ghosted is extremely disrespectful in my opinion, it's not a good start in any potential bdsm relationship. I am sure many Doms or indeed subs, would appreciate feedback of any kind. Sometimes I think that the sub see ONE thing they don't like on my profile and immediately think "no thanks", without even discussing anything. Also, I think some 'subs' don't really know what being a sub entails, I am a very fastidious Dom, I try to train my subs to the best of my ability and expect my sub to be committed to her role. I think some subs just like the fantasy of it all but aren't willing to commit. When I'm selecting a suitable sub, I always have a day session with her first, give her a taste of my methods and explain how she should behave and what is expected of her. There is no commitment either way until after that initial session. That's the end of my little rant. 

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!

Doms always ask me about my libido, which, honestly, has hardly changed in decades. I've always been quick to arouse, easy to orgasm, always wet, outright sensual, and very sex positive. No, I'm not bragging, and I certainly realize I am one *very* lucky girl to be like this sexually, with nary a bump in my sexual lifetime roadmap. I'm so thankful for that!  But the rub is, no pun intended, that I have to have a connection with my lover. The longing honest erotic sexy loving trustworthy dominant to his cherished sub dynamic type of connection. I don't perform, I can't get it up (so to speak) without engagement, I belong, I attach, I become, I subsume with my guy with everything that makes us sexual beings, and of course that includes emotional, mental, and physical.  Once I feel that connection, and know from my head to toes that it is both strong and reverential, my sexuality becomes like a well tended plant, soon to flower, over and over, again and again, each time beautiful and unique. Oh, yeah, and hot af too!

Guys be like, “men are visual creatures.” Ok mr, than why do you look like that? Maybe a lotta fellas don’t have mirrors at home. I had to be honest with a male  yesterday and explain to him that a lotta times the women THEY WANT, that don’t want them, might not be due to their financial status. A lotta times us women might not find you physically attractive (men never wanna consider this). Although your grandma and momma been telling you how handsome you are your whole life (they’re supposed to BTW) That doesn’t mean that women who you cross paths with on a daily basis look at you and think,“yea, I’d like to feel his penis inside of me, or be romantically involved with him”. This explains why it’s some not financially stable men that stay with a fine ass Boss Chick. Some men can get outta prison Tamar and be living with lawyer in her water-front condo & driving her Benz truck within a week.

 SadisticEye