This submissive’s Creed:   Respect Your time   Match Your efforts and requirements    Keep my word   Always be honest   Stay committed and consistent regardless 

I want to be clear...here are my hard limits... Kids Animals Choking Guns Orgies/Gangbangs Swinger type events. I am into the power exchange not group sex Cuckold  Scat Serious Public Humiliation/ Sarcasm/ Degradation/ and/or blackmail Diapers Pacifers Bottles Dont ever call me mom or mommy Age Play Animal Play, no pony or puppy role play either ( can be done at very infrequent times but not for all the time) Sissy play (some femme is ok) Needle Play Tattoos /brands, unless you are collared I won’t tattoo you ... and even then I probably won't.  Blood Play Illegal Drugs and many legal ones Smoking/smoke Untruthfulness Ass to mouth. I will not take things from your ass and expect you to put them in your mouth Death play Vomit Occultism Paranormal things Vampirism Poppers or drugs

I understand trolls have their role in this world. Both online and in real life if that’s what you believe. I’ve placed enough warnings that if your trolls stay away. If you’re dumb enough to approach me, I’m gonna rip you apart and I’m gonna feed you your inners. This is my final warning. I’m done with people being fake and breaking promises just like everybody else else’s. But I’ve decided to stand up and fight for my right to live. The prey has become the predator so fuck you. maybe this is help trolls hear me roar !!!!

Your Kink Personality Type isBDSM CONNOISSEUR As a BDSM CONNOISSEUR, you're in the perfect position to start exploring BDSM more fully.  You may be working hard on avoiding the vanilla rut right now, but with a little more confidence and support you can quickly take things to the next level. You're strengths at a glance:SENSUAL ~ SMART ~ ATTENTIVE

The Brightest Mark of Ruin   She had warned him. Not with raised voice or trembling lip. The way a storm warns you: a change in pressure, a stillness that precedes something absolute. She had looked at him with those eyes that always saw further into him than was comfortable and said, quietly, with the patience of someone who has never needed to repeat Herself: "Your body is mine. Your word is mine. Everything you signed your name to belongs to me now. Cross me unforgivably and I will not punish you. I won't need to. You will lose everything we have built, and it will be like poison in your veins." He had meant it the way weak men mean everything: completely, warmly, right up until the moment it cost him something. There was a contract. A real document, negotiated with Her characteristic precision, each clause a brick in something She was genuinely building. He had signed it with both hands steady and the particular glow of a man who has just been given more than he deserves. The ink was barely dry before he started deciding which parts applied to him. The protocols She had built as architecture, the daily rituals that kept him tethered and honest, he let them erode with the indifference of someone who has confused being trusted with being unsupervised. Then he put his hands on someone else. Not a stumble. A decision, made repeatedly, to take what belonged to their bond and spend it somewhere cheaper. He came home from it and looked Her in the eye and said nothing, and that silence was its own act of violence. When She found out, She came to him without hysteria, without tears, with complete and devastating composure. She asked him once for the truth. What he did next cannot be softened. He became physical, used his body the way cowards do, and drove Her from the home and safety that had been Hers. She left not because She was weak but because She has never once in Her life tolerated the intolerable. She did not come back. She didn't need to. The community moved the way water moves around a stone. No tribunal, no dramatic exile. People simply became unavailable. Conversations ended when he entered them. The doors didn't slam. They simply stopped opening. And She had not campaigned, had not made calls, because women of genuine authority do not need to destroy you manually. They tell the truth once, to the people who matter, and the truth does the rest. He still tries. He appears at the edges of gatherings with the careful posture of someone who has rehearsed his normalcy, performing the shape of a man who has grown and arrived humbly at the gates of a second chance. Every experienced Domme in the room clocks it within minutes. The hollowness. The grasping. The unmistakable vibration of a man whose submission is a strategy rather than a truth. They decline, one after another, sometimes without a word, sometimes with a look that says they know exactly what they are looking at. This is Her work, and She isn't even trying. The contract still exists. She has it. Every line he failed, every clause he desecrated, every promise subsequently dismantled brick by brick. It is not a document anymore. It is an accounting, and it will follow him into every room he tries to enter, every connection he tries to build, every carefully managed first impression, until he has repaid what he owes in full. Everything must be returned to Her as was originally decreed for the poison to ebb. To the world he dirtied by what he did to Her, to the fidelity he shattered, the safety he violated, the home he poisoned : These things do not expire. They accrue interest. She is woven into the world he still wants access to. Her judgment lives in it. He cannot go anywhere She has not already been, cannot reach anyone She does not already know. She is not a chapter; She is the book, and he is a footnote in a hand everyone can see was shaking. She is not thinking of him. That is precisely the point. He is living inside the shape of Her absence, and it fits him like the life sentence it is.

The Weight of Three Minutes: Continued I do not move quickly. I have never needed to. I circle him the way I circled him earlier, when the tea was still cooling on the obsidian table and the correction had not yet taken its shape. He tracks me without turning his head, feeling my presence move around him the way you feel a change in light, knowing without seeing. This too I have built in him. This particular sensitivity to where I am in a room, to the quality of my attention when it lands on him, to the difference between my stillness that is simply stillness and my stillness that is preparation. I stop behind him. I let the silence hold for a moment, long enough to feel it settle into his shoulders, into the careful architecture of his maintained posture. His breathing is controlled. He is working for that control and I can hear the effort underneath it, the slight and deliberate evenness of someone who has decided composure is the one thing left available to him and is holding it with both hands. "You ruined my moment of peace," I told him, and I made sure he heard every word, felt the shape of my disappointment. "So now, you will provide the entertainment." I released his chin and sat back, beginning to unbutton my blouse with deliberate, unhurried movements. The pearl buttons slipped free one by one, the fabric parting to reveal what I wore beneath - sheer black lace that left nothing truly hidden, everything offered and yet withheld at my discretion. I shrugged the blouse from my shoulders and let it fall behind me, uncaring where it landed. "Expose them," I ordered, and I watched the conflict play across his features. The desire to touch warring with the knowledge that he had not been granted permission, only command. His hands rose, trembling slightly as they found the edges of my bra. He pushed the lace down with careful, reverent movements, revealing my breasts to the cool air of the room. I felt the immediate response of my nipples tightening, the subtle shift in my own arousal at being displayed, at being seen so completely while he remained bound by my rules. I leaned back slightly, presenting myself to him with deliberate cruelty, close enough that he could smell my perfume, feel the warmth radiating from my skin, see every detail of my arousal. But not close enough to touch. Not without permission he had not yet earned. "Warm them," I instructed, my voice dropping to something softer, more dangerous. "With your breath. Only your breath. Hands behind your back." He obeyed with the desperate precision of someone who knew the cost of failure. His hands found each other behind him, clasping tight as though the restraint were physical rather than commanded. He leaned forward, close enough now that I could feel the ghost of his exhalation against my skin, the careful warmth of each controlled breath directed across my nipples. I watched him struggle, the way his jaw tightened with the effort of restraint, the way his eyes kept darting between my face and my breasts, searching for any sign that he might be permitted more. His arousal was unmistakable now, visible in the strain of his posture, the hunger in his gaze that he could not fully disguise. I let him continue until I could feel my own wetness gathering, until the tease had sharpened into something that required resolution. Then I shifted forward abruptly, closing the distance he had been forbidden to cross, pressing my breast against his parted lips with deliberate force. He made a sound, something between surprise and desperate relief, but I denied him even this small satisfaction. I held him there, my nipple resting against his closed lips, using his mouth as nothing more than a cushion, a warm surface for my own pleasure. He tried to part his lips, to taste, to suck, and I pulled back just enough to deny him, then pressed forward again with the same cruel restraint. "You made the tea too strong," I reminded him, my voice steady despite the arousal coiling tighter in my belly. "So you can be my cup holder. Nothing more." I shifted my grip to the back of his head, my fingers threading through his hair with controlled pressure, and pulled his face forward into the valley of my breasts. I held him there, my skin pressed against his mouth and nose, feeling the desperate rhythm of his breath hot and trapped against my cleavage. He struggled slightly, instinctive panic at the restriction, the need to breathe and I tightened my grip just enough to remind him that even this was at my discretion. "Stay," I commanded, and felt him still, surrendering to the constriction, accepting that his comfort was irrelevant to my pleasure. I held him there longer than necessary, feeling the subtle shifts in his body, the tension in his shoulders, the controlled shallowness of his breaths, the desperate patience of someone who knew that any complaint would only extend his punishment. The power of it thrilled through me, sharpening my arousal to something almost painful, a heavy heat between my thighs that demanded attention. I released him finally, letting him gasp against my skin, feeling the desperate gratitude in the way his hands clenched behind his back, still obedient, still restrained. I leaned back enough to meet his eyes, watching the dazed hunger there, the submission that had settled deeper than before. "Unzip my skirt," I ordered, my voice rougher now, the command firm. "Slowly." (TBC)  

  GENERAL INFORMATION   (I CLAIM COPYRIGHTS TO THE TEXT BELOW.)   ONLY CANDIDATES WITH A VALID PERMANENT RESIDENCE PERMIT IN EU, WILL BE CONSIDERED.   I am not interested to receive messages from talkers (small chit-chat), jokers that just like to chat, meet over for a coffee, cyber domination, make friends, meet or waste My time on convincing Me to allow them to ''try'' or just train them for the life as slave.With this issue cleared beware:   My time is precious and if you cannot respect this fact, there is nothing more to discuss.   I AM ONLY INTERESTED IN YOU:   WHO HAVE GIVEN IT ENOUGH THOUGHT, WHO HAS ALREADY DECIDED WHAT SHE/HE WANTS, WHO IS READY TO COMMIT FOR A PERMANENT RELATIONSHIP NOW, NOT IN A DISTANT UNKNOWN FUTURE I do not search for an adventure. BDSM is My lifestyle. I do not seek sex, I want a slave but sex may occur. I dominate both physical & psychological. If that is nothing for you, if you cannot obey, do not write to Me. I demand complete obedience of My slave, regardless what it is I say. Neither ''no'' or ''but'' are accepted. If you cannot obey, you do not need to apply for the position. I do not necessary search an experienced subject, but genuine submissiveness is something one cannot be trained to. I demand everything in domestic work (as laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc) car (change tires, car wash, etc.) gardening, or personal services (massage, manicure, etc) or others as travel, dine or dance with Me, etc… It is Me and My needs that are in the focus, not yours. If you are an egocentric or one, who believes slavery is about Your dreams, topping from the bottom, receiving attention or ''reward'', go on with your search. If you become Mine, you become part of the VoN' s House and you will have a regular job. Work, party, fun, boring, vacation, all. The good and the bad, you will be part of. I am strict but correct, loving, affectionate and I live a healthy life. I do NOT consider Myself a sadist and I do NOT enjoy to destroy someones health. By Sadism I understand following: needles, drawing blood, cigarette burning, pupil dilating drops, removing/breaking body parts, etc… I am not interested in pony/dog training, toilet slavery, breath control, golden/brown showers, latex, mummification, gang banging, or any extreme fetish/activities. This things are NOT included in My interests. My limits are children, animals, blood, scat, extreme activities  

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

This is a somewhat tongue-in-cheek, somewhat serious exploration of how to get to know someone via collarspace.com. Or, I guess to put it honestly, how to get to know me. Step 1. Read the fucking profile. My profile is not short, but it?s not War and Peace. It has important content in it that will help you know whether we are compatible or not and save your time AND mine. When you see a photo of someone you are attracted to, a compliment is a lovely thing. But if you honestly want to start a relationship or dynamic of some sort with them, read their profile before writing. It?s a form of respect, both self-respect (keep yourself from writing to people who are wildly incompatible with you) and respect for the other. Step 2. Don?t call me Mistress. I don?t like unearned titles, and if you MUST address me by a title, Ms. is enough. Don?t call me Miss, don?t call me Goddess, don?t use one of a hundred other unearned titles. If the time comes when addressing me by a title is appropriate to our relationship, you will know and we will discuss the appropriate title at that time. Until then, you may call me Elorin or Ms. Elorin. Step 3. Three sentence minimum. This is my 95% rule for responding to a letter on collarspace. A rare exception comes in where I respond to an initial email with fewer than three sentences, but for the most part, that?s the rule. If you feel like writing three sentences is too much to ask from someone with no relationship with you so far, that?s fine. You can choose not to write or you can write less and I?ll just delete your message when I read it. And if you send a long, run-on sentence with no punctuation and capitalization, I?ll treat it as one sentence and delete, even if it should have been three sentences. This is a personal value of mine, and it?s important to me that my partners are literate and able to write and express themselves. I realize that some people don?t do well with writing, or expressing themselves online, and I have made an exception in the past to meet people in person and give them a chance to express themselves in person, but that is rare and again, 95% of the time, if you can?t write and sustain emails with me for a short amount of time, you won?t be compatible with me in person. Step 4. Don?t immediately ask to go to another media.

i tried to make a post about lilith earlier like i did on reddit but this site ho'd me and didn't post it after posting it was already posted. oh well. trust me if you go on reddit or otherwise it's there.   I think I've mentioned it before on here that I am above average with astrology, but I'm not an astrologer. I've never been trained on how to actually read the charts, how to make the charts. I've never taken any classes on it. What I've learned is simply through grit and connecting with other novices and pulling together information. and just amalgamating slash being alchemical And bare bonesing it, you know, like raw dogging it. But as I've shared on my previous points. my intuition is like Doja cats lyrics. Trust me, I got magical foresight. so I might not have all the understanding in three D of the words, the vernacular, the structure, the format, the step by step to do things. especially with people that are more versed in these esoteric and magic school and mystery school or any of these long standing principles and all the stuff in the mystic spiritual magic world, right?   It's like the vibe of not being a pedigree, but being a scrappy, rough misfit. LOL.   So I know more than the average person about astrology, but in the world of astrologers, I know nothing.       I've been riding extremely about this balance and holding the line when it comes to how the. Michael male divine energy engages with the feminine. Sophia Divine feminine original source energy. And because in this life I'm alternative, I'm kinky. I'm. BDSM y. I'm polyamory. in a world where I was meant to be in the sauce and I was meant to be. physically engaging with people in a romantic sexual. real life kind of realm. categorizing myself in my past experiences. But before I came to realize I'm supposed to be more of a teacher and I'm not supposed to really hold that. because when you start holding that, you lose the higher perspective. You lose like the higher realm of it. right? but before I figured that out and I was trying to get lost in the sauce, I've always. expressed relating to the opposite sex in a very Non mainstream way. So it's like, as I continue to write the way that my divine feminine resonates on Earth is with the other alternative girls. I'm connected to the divine feminine with the dark goddess energy, with the bad babe energy. with the girlies who are with the mafia vibe, who are with the gangsters who are with the dominance, who are with the. people running the emotional, physical, mental, sexual. edge.   Just like cyberpunk. 2077. I'm with the edge runners. Not all women are like that. Most women aren't like that. Not all men are like that. A lot of men aren't like that. And in the spiritual world, I have found most of them are very love and light and asexual to begin with. So it's like the way. I'm channeling this message is for a very unique small subset of people. But even in the confusion and stuff, I know what I'm seeing. I know what I'm I'm supposed to write about. I know I'm supposed to say I know the message that I'm spreading even. if I don't necessarily know who I'm supposed to spread it to. I know I got the goods. Deep down. and even if these goods never turn into anything but these notes like I know that there's something magic going on. Hashtag being a projector, hashtag being a instinctual spleen at projector hashtag having the juxtaposition cross of assimilation bringing in crazy ass concepts that are forward thinking. so ka. so desu ne. Unrelated side note. Because I am an anime snob I do not like the digital animation and the styling. Of the I watched this show because I am deeply into the fandom. I literally not being facetious, but probably two years straight watching over 15 people play the game as much as. much as they completed it and I have never seen anyone complete the game. I saw one person on You Tube from Australia that was a lady get very close to completing the game but then felt pressured to do phantom liberty without finding all the side missions and side things and stopped to go to Phantom Liberty to appease her. fandom. but yes, I went very deep into this whole lore of cyberpunk. and so I felt I needed to watch this show in order to honor the essence of it and the message that this amazing franchise had and I Like I do most modern anime was slightly disappointed. Didn't feel much from it. Got a little bit from it, but a lot of people love how that style of medium of art is nowadays. And I'm on purpose, not on the same. not on the same vibe. I went to a club that was anime based. And I came across a younger guy. that was still an adult, obviously. But he said, I'm stuck in the past and I said yes on purpose. and he was like the 90s and I was like actually to be specific. I'm stuck in the 1970s to 2005 talking about bigger concepts like Leji matsumoso Galaxy Express 999. space operas. Tenchi muyo slayers. ah megumi sama sailor moon, serial experiments lain, neon genisis evangelion, even lighter stuff like mermaid melody pichi pichi, metropolsis the ova. When I look at something, I'm looking to learn to expand my soul, grow, get the channeled message. I'm not here for shits and giggles and fun. 99% of the time when I'm consuming, it's like I'm doing this as an unpaid job, like as a message. So this stuff nowadays that I've been introduced to does not have a message. So I do not relate to it. I'm a bad girly with a mission. And I'm very serious about it. And because I'm human, I might go astray. I might slip. I might fall, but I'm always straight back to the motherfucking mission in the day.   I'm always going to be talking about relationships and sexuality and spirituality and all that, because I've literally my entire adult life, have been wired that way. And I was. probably starting to get trained to do that when I was a minor in. probably more appropriate manners. and spirit. But I just been feeling like this message of unity on your sovereign path and not getting lost in the entanglement and the ties....passion....of sexuality and fleetingness of of. obsession and fixation and getting off track because of the pool of what the opposite person might do. And St true to you and like holding into that and seeing how so many women, especially because when you're on the edge, you're dealing with More intense chemicals in your body. You're dealing with more power play. You're dealing with it on a higher level than the average person. It's like I I've just been like talking about getting in the sauce and how it it leads to at least on the woman's side cause I'm a woman, then being down bad and their lives literally ruined like either physically, mentally, emotionally. Unfortunately, sometimes sexually, like that's the the gamble playing on the edge that when you fall, you fall harder than someone that's just totting the line. But because the dark goddesses are out there seeking truth on deeper depth and dark corners, they're willing to take that risk. I'm assuming, you know, you guys, I guess I'll call you dark gods. I have an awareness, but again, I just don't have a penis. I don't have that energetic masculine quality. I'm more of a panther. You guys are more like lions. Like III see it, but I just really can't tap into it. I can only observe. So I'm guessing same thing for y'all, but I can't say it from the core of my soul because that's just not what I was meant to do this time around. And a parmy hates to say stuff that isn't 100 percent confirmed. LOL. To the best of my confirmation at least, or to the best of my sourcing.   All this to say, my astrology hasn't gone to the level of looking at the transits or the. conjunctions. I know what they are. I can read when I see it on a chart, but it's not something I know how to make my own. It's

 butler in a home is responsible for a wide range of duties and responsibilities, including: Managing household staff: Overseeing and training other domestic workers to ensure smooth operations. Planning and managing events: Organizing and coordinating events and receptions. Personal assistance: Providing personal service to the household members and managing their schedules. Dining service: Delivering high-standard table service and managing dining etiquette. Household maintenance: Ensuring the cleanliness and organization of the home. Budgeting and accounts: Overseeing household accounts and budgeting. Security: Ensuring the safety and security of the home. Confidentiality: Maintaining discretion and upholding the highest standards of&nbs

                           LET ME MAKE SOME THINGS CLEAR  DON'T WASTE YOUR TIME MESSAGING ME IF YOU DON'T HAVE A PIC OR PROFILE.  IF YOU DO MESSAGE ME YOU MUST SEND AN ACTUAL MESSAGE. NO ONE LINERS OR ONE ONE WORD MESSAGES DON'T START YOUR MESSAGE OFF WITH Mistress or Goddess. YOU HAVEN'T BEEN GIVEN PERMISSION TO ADDRESS ME AS SUCH.    I'M NOT HERE TO FINANCIALLY SUPPORT YOU!!!!!! Lady Raven   

I am not your Chocolate Queen, Domme, Mistress, Baby, princess  etc. I don't know you. I don't do random terms of endearment when there is no relationship established. You may address me as Ms.cherry when messaging me. If you are a person under the age of 26  DO NOT. JUST DON'T. Refrain from messaging me about things you want to do to me, or things you want me to do to you.I DO NOT CARE. Keep your fetishes and imaginary expectations to yourself. People don't have to participate in your fantasy because your dick jumped at my photos. Thanks for he compliment 

An evening, recalled by the lady, written by me.It was late afternoon and it had been a tough day at the Commission. His kiss when he met me at the station was warm and affectionate; we chatted on the way to the hotel and as we checked in. When we arrived in the room I dumped my stuff on the bed and went out onto the veranda to look out over the lake. A few minutes later I heard him say ‘come here please’. I turned to see him with an impassive look on his face and standing in the middle of the room pointing at the floor just in front of his feet. He took hold of me around my waist and as he kissed me deeply, his hands travelled from my waist down my hips and across my bottom. Then up my back to my neck and then he felt my hair. He murmured ‘give me your tongue’ and I slipped it between his teeth. He nipped it and held it between his upper teeth and tongue. It was uncomfortable but not painful, he had done it often before and I had grown to like it. His hands resumed their journey around my upper body. They were firm, confident and moved without any hesitation. I could not have ed even if I had wanted too and the welcome feeling of melting inside began. He then released my tongue, kissed my lips then he turned me around and bent me over so my elbows were on the bed. He lifted my skirt and folded it over my back. His hands then roved freely over my bottom and between my thighs. He felt my mons, traced the line of my slit and ran his fingertips between down the crease between my buttocks, pausing to press on my anus. He then held me firmly against his thigh and began to spank me- this had recently become a regular beginning to our time together. One spank per cheek, then two, then three, they landed on my upper thighs and the curve of my bottom. He stopped at six and spent a few minutes gently rubbing my bottom, occasionally slipping his hand between my thighs. At ten per cheek it was stinging a lot. By twelve I was having difficulty keeping still. It was the knowledge that if I moved he would start again that kept me in position. The spanking was not unexpected and it had the desired effect. I felt myself starting to melt inside even more as he rubbed my stinging bottom and thighs once again. He stopped and made me stand. Then looked me in the eye, and then said ‘I have a few issues to resolve with you’. My stomach took a lurch, I’d been here before, he had shown no sign of real annoyance with me recently but then he never really did. He took me by the chin, looked into my eyes and said ‘strip and kneel’. He then turned and went to the veranda. It only took a minute to remove all my clothes and jewellery. I knelt, apprehensive about his return, embarrassed it had been a warm day; I had been wearing tights and had not had the time to wash and prepare myself for him. My make up had gone and I knew I did not look my best. He returned and pushed me forward to my knees and elbows. Pulling back my hair he locked my leather collar around my neck. It felt strange after the long break since I last wore it. The wrist cuffs were fitted next before he clipped them behind my back pinioning my wrists. He pulled my collar by its short leash to make me kneel up and then buckled a gag around my neck and pushed the red ball behind my teeth before tightening   it. He turned me so my back was to the mirror and placed a low backed chair in front of me. He could now see both the back and front of me. Sitting on the chair he told me to part my thighs wide and to emphasise the point his foot nudged my knees wide apart. I hoped he wasn’t going to touch me between my thighs as he so loved too, I so regretted not taking a shower immediately we arrived in the room. From his pocket he took some butterfly style nipple clips. I hate them and he knows it, he threaded their chain into the ring at the front of my collar and after pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger to make them fully erect he clipped one to each nipple. The discomfort was almost unbearable, I instinctively closed my thighs, and he ed and gently tugged the chain, sending sharp jolts through me. I did as I was told and spread my thighs wide, pushing my mons forward as far as I could. The gag muffling my weak protests. He spoke slowly, jerking the chain on saying each word. ‘Three weeks ago you forgot your make up, two weeks ago your stockings, last week your high shoes. You have arrived in my company wearing tights for the last 4 weeks, hence the immediate spankings. You have not kissed or greeted me properly on meeting for the same length of time. You make up today is poor, your hair isn’t brushed and you have not left your pubic hair as I instructed. In short young lady you are marring your beauty. You are fully aware how beautiful I think you are and you are distracting from it by being sloppy and that disappoints me. I will not accept you detracting from the pleasure I take in having such a desirable woman as my lover. Do you understand?’ I nodded, my eyes starting to water from the discomfort in my nipples and the realisation of how I had disappointed him. There was also the knowledge that I had been here before and if it followed a similar pattern then this was the case against me. By nodding I admitted my guilt. So I was about to punished for being a sloppy and inattentive submissive who had disappointed her Dominant.  He helped me to my feet by lifting me by the collar on my ring; it also had the effect of tugging on my nipples. He reversed his chair and tugged the chain as he removed each nipple clip. It stung as the blood filled each nipple, my knees almost buckled each time, the gag muffling the g. He then connected my wrists cuffs in front of me, and bent me over the back of his chair so my weight rested on my elbows. ‘Part your legs’ he said, I complied and hoped he would decide to have me, not cane me. I was to be disappointed, though recently spanked I accepted I had earned this too. He fetched a cane from his bag as I waited anxiously. Holding the back of my collar he rested the cane against my bottom, drew it back and struck me. ‘One‘ he said. All I did was hear the sound then the harsh sting reached my brain! He was using the flat cane.  A piece of flexible wood two feet long, an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick. It didn’t leave tram lines or scars; I knew its stinging would last for ages and leave a square red mark on each buttock, but it would not bruise very much. Not that it seemed important at that moment. Though I find the cane painful, the thonged whip he occasionally uses is worse. Its thick strands inflict weal’s and their tips can get into the most intimate parts of my body. I’ve also known him use it on my breasts and belly. Each cane stroke went slightly lower until the last 3 all struck where the tops of my thighs and my bottom met. My legs kicked out from the stinging, by now I had dribbled spittle around the gag, my eyes were streaming and my nose had started to run. He let go the back of my collar and returned the cane to his bag. Returning he pulled me upright by my collar and turned me to face him. I refused to look him in the eye; I must have looked a real mess. He took my chin again forcing me to look into his eyes. I felt so ashamed of my appearance. He had told me I was beautiful so very often and it made me feel so proud when he said it. Now I had let him down by being too complacent. He unclipped the wrist cuffs, reattaching then in front. He said ‘Do you understand what I have told you?’ I nodded. ‘Then get down on your belly on the floor and spread your legs, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ My mind raced, would it be the whip now, on my bottom? I knelt and lay on the floor, my bottom was really stinging and the carpet was rough against my sore nipples, my belly and mons. I spread my thighs wide, dipped my spine and waited. I heard the pop of a tube of lubricant being opened. It wasn’t the whip!! The lube felt cold against my anus as he applied just enough. He undressed, I could feel him looking at my prone body, the line of my sex and the rose of my anus. I was fully exposed because it was how he wanted me to be. He knelt between my thighs and pumped his cock to make the head larger. He spread my bottom cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock against my anus with the other. The tip entered me, it was so uncomfortable. I had forgotten how tight a caning made the cheeks of my bottom clench. He pushed into me, stretching me. I struggled and tried to object; he held me and reminded me of the presence of the whip. Once he was past the muscular ring I relaxed as the discomfort subsided somewhat; I felt the cool of his skin against my hot bottom. He reached and took hold of my hair and collar, pulling them back. At the first slow thrust he said ‘one’. The thrusts were slow and firm, they made my bottom sting though my anus soon adapted to the presence of his cock. He told me to squeeze my buttocks together as he withdrew his cock, and relax as he thrust in. I tried to do so; each time I failed he added two extra thrusts. He was punishing me and reminding me of his dominance by not taking pleasure from the stimulation my anus could give him. It was a reminder that sexual pleasure could not be an excuse for a lack of submission. It was a relief when he reached 100 and stopped counting and thrusting. I was glad he was no longer forcing my nipples against the rough carpet, and his tummy was no longer making my sore bottom sting more. But I immediately missed the closeness and intimacy of the man I so wanted yet had disappointed. He pulled me to my feet by my collar, removed the ball gag and lifted my chin. I must have looked a real mess as I worked my jaw to stop it aching, I certainly felt a mess and I promised him and myself not to let my appearance or behaviour slip again. He kissed me and said he loved me; I’m not sure if it made me feel any better- or if it was supposed to! He led me by the arm into the bathroom and told me to wash his cock and balls. I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous! Mascara running, the marks of the gag around my mouth, spittle around my chin and collar and my nose running! I looked away ashamed as he wet a towel to clean the lube from between my buttocks. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror and rubbed the wet towel firmly between my buttocks, it stung where it touched the red marks.  I heard him say, ‘You have 30 minutes until dinner. Be ready on time.’ I knew that I would make him the proudest man alive when he let me take his arm to dinner. 30 minutes wasn’t long. But I so wanted to see that look of desire in his eyes that I would ensure I was just as he wanted me to be. I knew just how good he would make me feel in return. He went to the veranda to watch the sun set. I set to work, though I did sneak a look at the red marks on my bottom. They made me feel strangely proud because they were his marks and I had submitted to him. He had put them there and there was nothing I could have done about it even if I wanted to. Now I didn’t know what he was going to do with me later, but after being disciplined he always had something special planned for me! 

Living in a polyamorous household, where multiple individuals have consensually chosen to have romantic and/or sexual relationships with one another, can have numerous benefits for all members involved.  One of the most obvious benefits is financial. By sharing living expenses and resources, such as a home, transportation, and household goods, members of a polyamorous household can reduce their individual expenses and potentially increase their savings. In addition, having multiple partners can provide emotional and practical support, which can result in reduced stress and better financial decision making.  On the social level, living in a polyamorous household can also be beneficial. Members can form deep and meaningful connections with multiple partners, providing a greater sense of belonging and connectedness. In addition, the open communication and negotiated boundaries that are typically a part of polyamorous relationships can lead to a greater sense of trust and understanding among all members.  On the psychological level, living in a polyamorous household can also have positive effects. For example, being able to form romantic and sexual connections with multiple partners can provide a greater sense of self-worth and self-esteem. In addition, having multiple partners can also provide a sense of security and emotional support, which can lead to greater overall well-being.  However, it is important to note that living in a polyamorous household is not without its challenges. For example, jealousy and insecurity can sometimes arise, and open communication and a willingness to work through these challenges is crucial for the success of the relationship. In addition, it can also be difficult to navigate societal judgments and discrimination against non-traditional relationship structures.  In conclusion, living in a polyamorous household can provide numerous benefits for its members, including financial, social, and psychological advantages. While it may not be for everyone, those who choose to live in such a household can find that the benefits outweigh the challenges, leading to a happier and more fulfilled life.

To clear up some answers before you reach out. I am a Bigger Person. I am around 290 in weight and have put a lot of energy, time, and effort into myself. I go to a nutritionist every other week, stick to my meds, and have no issue with my size. If you are not into me at 290 (about 30 pounds lighter than earlier this year), then I will not be into YOU when I am lighter than 290.  I am biologically female, Assigned Female At Birth, and identify as non-binary. I am no longer in a power dynamic. I am looking for people interested in a non-traditional service submissive with particular specialties. I have realized I am more of an alpha personality because if there is too much drama/ multiple alphas, I will back off and do my own thing. I am loyal as fuck but independent as well. I am looking for Sadists who enjoy physical, emotional, and psychological play while being aware of their mental and physical health. I am aware of my mental health; I expect you to be mindful of yours.  

Four Steps...    A recent miscommunication has inspired me to write on the STEPS towards D/s service and/or "D/s dating", as I see it. 1. We text to see if we want to talk. 2. We talk to tell if we want to meet. Note: I prefer local gents because it helps keep this step simple, without significant investment (time, emotional, financial). However, each step has flexibility for individual situations.   3. We meet to find out if we are drawn to each other and want to spend time together, both vanilla and D/s time. 4. Once dating, we would enjoy each other while we find our mutual understanding. Do we want monthly "dates", something more or something less? All these things unfold ONE STEP at a time, with good communication and each person making the right choice for themselves. (See my journal entry "The Depths of the Garage") I understand that the submissive thrall might cause you to want to give yourself totally. Your mind might race ahead to total ownership. YOU must manage your own urges. I hope you learn to enjoy submission for an afternoon or a weekend. That is D/s dating as I define it.   NOTE: Weeks into my widowhood, I am interested in "D/s dating". It is simply not the right time for me to even consider ANY long term relationship. At a different time I will feel a different way. I look forward to it.

playing without permission She lays there naked covered up with just a sheet right hand inching to her soaked pussy finger finds it way to her throbbing swollen clit legs spread she gently rubs it she lets out a low slow moan her left hand gripping the bed she speads up rubbing the throbbing swollen clit her moans gets louder shes playing with no permission she feels naughty thinking and day dreaming of his hand around her throat squeezing and releasing as he speaks am i understood she doesnt dare to make eye contact the day dream is going so well she cums without thinking she moans louder and no one can hear her

Once I learned how to "shop for Fem" I became a ShopAholic! Could go every day to look for another new female garment. I even found myself buying 2 and 3 of the same just because the fabric and print turned me on so much.   Wearing these cute fem, girlie girl skirts and dresses and girdles and garter belts and opaque thigh high nylons and pantyhose just drives me crazy  horny! Being so turned on with the pastel colors and cute prints for myself makes me know how I would like to dress another CD Gurl for Sexilicious encounters.

    February 12th, 2022   Pantyhose guy came over today. He has pretty much given himself the nickname, because he loves the feeling of being in pantyhose.  I'm not really into him wearing them during a visit and he respaspects that.   He's visited a few times before. But today was a little different. Today he decided to suck cock for the first time. He might have had a taste or two before, but today he got the full treatment.   Because he reads my stories, he knew when he walked in the house to strip naked. I don't even think I had to tell him. He just stripped off his clothes immediately. Although it did not come as a surprise, his tiny cock was trapped in a beautiful black cock cage.    He was very nervous, and he shared this information in text messages before his arrival.  So instead of giving him a chance to think it over, and maybe change his mind, we headed straight upstairs.   I had just gotten out of the shower, still a little damp, wearing nothing but jogging pants. When we got upstairs I stripped out of the jogging pants and laid on my back in bed. From text messages we had shared earlier in the day he knew that's what was going to happen. I was going to let him go at his pace, for his first time of sucking cock.   He was nervous and stood next to the bed naked for a few minutes, until eventually he asked what he should do. I scooted up in the bed a bit and told him to climb in from the bottom and start to suck my cock. Knowing he was nervous, I kept my cock soft, but as his mouth surrounded my cock it was wonderful.  Not just the fact that my cock was the first cock that was going to get hard in his mouth, but it felt warm and wet and wonderful.   Instead of laying flat on the on his stomach, like the boy in my previous story (the boy with his hands tied behind his back) pantyhose guy was on his knees leaning down toward my cock. This made the angle a little bit difficult but he was having no problems.  But even with the slightly difficult angle before long I could feel my cock starting to grow. I didn't want to force him into anything but I did lay my hands on the back of his head, feeling the rhythmic bouncing of his head on my cock.  Once or twice I grabbed a handful of hair and pushed him balls deep. I was surprised that he didn't gag.   As he continued to suck my cock, I reached down and started playing with one of his nipples. I started with a little pinch and then got a little more aggressive. Something about pinching his nipple put my cock on fire. I could feel my cock getting even harder than it was just a few moments ago. He didn't resist, he didn't complain, he just let me play with his nipple.   After he had sucked cock for a while, I told him we were going to change positions. Instead of both of us being parallel to the length of the bed, I laid at an diagonal and he positions himself perpendicular to the bed. This gave me access to his ass with my fingers, while still giving his mouth access to my cock.   He brought his own silicone lube and I poured some onto the fingers of my left hand. He leaned forward and started sucking my cock again, pushing his ass up into the air. As my fingers found their way to his hole, I was met with another nice surprise.  I felt a butt plug in place. I started to pull and tug on the butt plug and there was quite a bit of resistance. It started popping out of his ass but it did not release completely. I learned it was a multi-layered bubble butt plug with two big bubbles/balls. The first ball came out followed slowly by the second. It was either glass or clear acrylic, very large, and I knew it was leaving an empty space in his hole.   I sat it on the back of the bed, and soon my fingers found his gaping hole.  One finger slid in with absolutely no resistance, so quickly two fingers went into his ass. As he continued sucking on my cock I found his prostate and started massaging it.  He started to moan. Since my cock was in his mouth I could feel the vibrations of the moan penetrating my cock.   With my left hand on his ass and my fingers in his hole, my right hand rested on the back of his head or neck occasionally pushing him deep under my cock. Once or twice he came off my cock and said It felt so great he was afraid he was going to orgasm. So we would take a bit of a breather. I would pull my fingers out of his ass but he would continue to suck my cock.    We did this for quite a while, and at one point he said his jaw was starting to ache.  I knew why he had come for a visit. He wanted my cock in his hole and my seed deep in his ass.   From the discussions we had earlier while texting I didn't know how much time he had, but I knew I was ready to fuck him. So I told him it was time. He questioned if we were rushing, I'm not sure if he was enjoying the cock sucking and me playing with his ass or if he was thinking of backing out. I decided not to take the chance.  I told him it was time to get fucked.   I climbed off the bed as he pushed his ass higher into the air. I climbed on the bed behind him, my left foot flat on the bed with my bent knee. My right foot and leg hooked around his right leg to hold him up and to keep him from dropping away from me.   My cock found its target, and plunged in balls deep first try. The toy that had been in his ass was so large, he was so opened up, he didn't even g.  But he was definitely not loose, his ass was tight around my cock.  Oh my God it felt wonderful.  I twisted my right knee on top of his back, somehow keeping my right foot locked in place so he couldn't get away.  In this perpendicular position our bodies were almost forming a "T."   This gave me the absolute maximum depth in his ass that I could have. I varried my rhythm going from slow to fast. Sometimes pulling completely out and plunging back in. Sometimes just popping the head of my cock in and out. Sometimes working full length without pulling out completely. His head was down on the pillow where it should be, his ass in the air. At times I felt him rhythmically push back as if to force his ass to swallow more of my cock.   The sensation was incredible, plus from my view it was a hot sight to see. His ass up, his head down, occasionally I would lean forward and put my hand against the back of his head and push him into the pillow. I probably only lasted about 10 minutes, and during that time I thought of everything including work, my broken snowblower, and things on my to-do list... but it didn't help, it was all too exciting.   Then I made my fatal mistake. I flipped my right foot onto the back of his neck pushing him down into the pillow with much of my weight. Psychologically there is something about me being dominant and doing this to a submissive that pushes me over the edge. And that is exactly what it did. My bad, LOL.   Soon I told him that I was going to be flooding his ass with my cum.   I pumped another dozen or so times and then felt my cum pulsing out of my cock. Filling his ass with my orgasm. I was staying hard so I continued fucking him. I moved my leg back to the bed pinning him against me, sometimes brutally thrusting into him. Eventually I was exhausted and had to pull out.   We reinserted the glass toy into his hole so none of my seed would

Dallas — April 23–25 I’ll be in the city briefly, and I don’t waste time on unfocused or unprepared men. I’m open to select company while I’m there—but understand this is not casual, and it’s not for those who need to be convinced of their place. I will not be alone. My wife will be present—she is intelligent, composed, and fully aware of my dynamic. You will conduct yourself with the same level of respect, awareness, and restraint you would expect in the presence of accomplished women. This is not a space for nervous energy, over-talking, or performative behavior. I expect presence, discretion, and a clear understanding of how to approach properly. You should come prepared—mentally, logistically, and otherwise. I don’t guide from the ground up in a limited window. If you understand structure, composure, and how to present yourself with intention, you may be worth my time. Dallas is a short stay. Make your approach count. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

What She Is Looking For I am not looking for a fantasy. I am looking for a life, and I expect that life to be beautiful.  The distinction matters because fantasies are performed and lives are lived, and I have no interest in someone who shows up for the aesthetic and disappears when the reality of sustained devotion asks something difficult of them. Total Power Exchange is not a weekend arrangement or a mood that gets activated under the right conditions. It is the architecture of a shared existence, built deliberately, maintained consistently, and governed entirely by my authority. If that sentence produces hesitation in you, this is not your door to knock on. What I want is a man who presents to the world as my equal, polished and capable and the kind of presence that commands a room, who comes home and exhales completely into my ownership of him. The contrast is not incidental. It is the point. I am drawn to the specific magic of a man who holds genuine power in the world and chooses, with full understanding of what he is surrendering, to place it entirely at my feet. Submission means nothing from someone who had nothing to give. I want the full weight of what you are, handed over without reservation. I require intelligence. Not credentials, though I respect those. The living kind: curiosity, attentiveness, the capacity to learn me with the focused dedication of someone who has decided I am worth studying completely. I want to be known the way Keats knew beauty, as a truth so self-evident it requires no argument, only devotion, only the willingness to stand before it and be completely undone. I will know immediately whether you have paid that quality of attention. I always know. I am a dominant woman in the fullest sense: not a role I perform but a nature I inhabit. I move through the world with the ease of someone who has never needed permission to take up space, and I expect my home to reflect that, my dynamic to reflect that, my partner to reflect that back to me in the quality of his service and the depth of his surrender. The house runs on my standards. I have the Binder, and there is ceremony in you holding it, learning it, and cherishing the standard I have created through my writing. My comfort is the first consideration in every room. There is good linen and good light and the specific luxury of a life curated entirely to my taste, and you will maintain it to that standard because anything less is not a home I recognize. My pleasure is the organizing principle of our shared life, not as imposition but as the natural order of a structure we have both chosen and built together. I want your obsession. Earned, total, focused entirely on me. I think of E.E. Cummings carrying his heart in his hands, given over completely, and I want that, the real version of it, the version that costs something. I want to be the thing your thoughts return to without deciding to, the standard against which you measure every choice, the presence that lives in you so completely that pleasing me stops feeling like a task and starts feeling like breathing. I will wring that out of you, patiently and completely, until there is no daylight left between what you want and what I require. I mark what is mine. Permanently, intentionally, with the quiet pride of a woman who builds things to last. I do not share. I do not negotiate my authority. I do not soften my expectations to make them more comfortable to receive. The contract I offer is real, the terms are mine, and I hold to them with the same precision I expect from you. Emily Dickinson wrote that she dwelt in possibility, a fairer house than prose. That is the quality of interior life I bring to everything, including this, including you, and I expect to be met there by someone whose imagination is equal to mine, whose capacity for devotion is as expansive as what I am offering in return. And what I offer is not small. My world is one of ease and intention, of travel and good rooms and the particular luxury of a life built by a woman who knows exactly what she wants and has never once settled. I will take you to Greece and Japan and every beautiful place I have decided I deserve, and you will move through those places slightly behind me, handling everything that needs handling, leaving me free to inhabit the world at full scale. You will carry my bags, you will shine my boots, you will lay out my clothing and wonder at the softness of my lingerie, you will rub oil upon my skin and marvel aat the way I soak up the golden light at the end of a day we spent together.  In return you will live inside the most extraordinary thing available to a man like you: my full, genuine, sustained attention, chosen with my eyes open, given to someone I have decided is worth knowing completely. My care, when you have earned it, is not small. My world, once I allow you into it fully, is a place that will ruin you for anything less.  I know precisely what I am offering. The question is whether you are worth offering it to, and worth being molded in my carefully crafted image.   

100% Primal (Hunter)100% Dominant100% Exhibitionist100% Sadist100% Rigger100% Degrader95% Owner95% Voyeur88% Master/Mistress
 Baby9ashleigh