Thanks My wife's first words to me were a warning. "You're going to fry out there!"  I looked up from the sundeck at my condo and saw this pretty girl looking at me from a second floor balcony.  She had long black hair and was wearing a short crop top that showed off her flat stomach.  I waved and I told her I was fine and had lots of suntan oil.  I went back to reading the Washington Post like I did every Sunday morning.   I was new here, this was my first summer at this place.  It was steps away from the subway and had a big pool, a tennis court and gym.  I loved the sundeck, a big wide area for sun worshippers like me.  So every Sunday id head to the sundeck with my towel and the paper.  I would do a few floor exercises and sunbathe while reading the paper. I was flattered that this girl was watching me.   She was now talking to me every time she saw me.  "What are you reading?" she asked.  "Would you like a water?"  She would toss me a water when I said sure.  Over time I began to look forward to seeing her.  Eventually I asked if she played tennis.  She did.  She was pretty good and had a good forehand.  During a match we took a water break as we were at the net.  "Your shoe is untied." she said.  I looked down and she kneeled down and retied my shoe.   Tennis led to workouts in the gym.  She told me she was a trainer.  She'd give me tips on form and spotted me when I needed it.  I was doing a bent over row exercise and she spotted me and I felt her hand on my waist.  Her hand slowly went to my back and drifted lower onto my butt.  I could feel her fingertips touch the outline of the back of my bikini underneath my gym tights.  So now I knew she wanted more than a friendship.   We talked about bdsm.  She didn't understand it.  I told her about my kinks and why it turned me on.  I'll never forget her reply.  "Why don't you let me train you so you look stretched all the time?". The truth of it was that we love each other.  She's gay.  She's had a lot of trauma caused by men and wants nothing to do with them.  She understood my needs and we agreed that if this was going to work, she would have to accept my kink and I would never cheat on her.  She's met all my friends and doesn't participate in bdsm.   You might be asking How can this be?  This lifestyle is all about meeting one's needs.  As long as both sides agree to things it'll work out for all.  All I told her to do was to surround herself with beautiful things.   So my wife is my service sub.  She takes care of our home, she cooks for me, she takes care of the pool, the Jacuzzi, grocery shopping.  She loves it.  It was raining one day when I drove home from work and there she was, in her bare feet holding an umbrella for me to walk me to the house. She decorates for the holidays.  I hear her on the phone telling others how happy she is.  She knows that I love it when she walks around in a T-shirt and bikini.  She works out.  She loves sunbathing with me.  We fulfill each other's needs.  So to my lovely wife and sub, I thank you for your commitment to me and the love you've given me.    

I  messed up badly extremely badly on my first night at Masters home  I. Have thought n thought about it and I know i have to show Master that I know i made a  Big mistake and no matter what,I'm going to do my best to never ever do that again  We did discuss what happened and it did have the potential to kill what we both wanted. I will strive to be better,do better and be what you want,need and desire  I just read a post about shitty subs,yes I said it and it did strike a nerve. We did discuss my behaviour and over the next 2 days,I did demonstrate to Master that  I was ashamed of myself and stepped up in everyway possible  I could've ruined the best opportunity to be owned by a Master who is so special and so different . Your a kind,caring and strict Master and even tho we agreed to never bring it up again,I want to say sorry .. That was not acceptable in any way shape or form and beat myself up daily.. I know I have a way to go and I will Master. I want you to be proud to own me,. .were still kinda new to each other,but ii want this to work with all my heart Master 

I saw this today in someone's journal and I decided to write about it as my interpretation of what Protect the Property means.  To me, protecting the property is part of the protocols I have adopted as my own.  To my submissive, it means protecting yourself. You are charged with making sure you are healthy by taking care of yourself, eating correctly, drinking enough water, etc.  Ensuring I am well taken care of to the best of his ability.  To me, it means the same for myself, and it means I am to ensure my submissive is well cared for.  To both of us, care for the relationship. Water the garden of the relationship, and help it grow together. If the relationship is not cared for, it will not succeed and this is done by both of us. 

The Women here are inundated with unwanted messages. For that reason, I won't initiate contact. If you would like to know about me, see if we have kinks in common, you'll have to start the ball rolling yourself. It really isn't that difficult. You won't be one amongst dozens of other messages I receive, I promise you. worshipru123 -Michigan

NEW CRUSH ALERT!!!! Michele Morrone from the 365 days movies   I'm cheating on my Winter Soldier   LOL

I have been on weight watchers for a few years, and I am happy to report I have lost 100 POUNDS!!!!  I have more to go,. I would love to find someone that is also working to lose weight and be in better shape or someone that has and knows what it takes. Even better would be to have a friend to go walking with and support each other. having the other person be dominant would be even better to give me a push or a pull on the leash. 

Look, here's the deal.  If you are going to make your first email something like, "On hormones?" or "how is your search going?" or "are you currently owned" i am going to either give you a smartass reply, delete your email and if i am in a mood i will probably block you. So i will make you a promise becaue i know a lot of sub/slaves don't reply and it makes the effort of having written an actual introduction email seem like wasted time.  If you send me an intro email that is more than 2-3 sentences, doesn't demand information of me right off the bat and actually does tell me why you are writing to me in the first place, then I GUARANTEE I WILL REPLY.  100%. I promise.  (not including copy and paste generic messages you send to everyone). Yes.  I get it.  I'm being cunty.  That's okay.  What you need to understand is that I get a bunch of emails every time I log in that have those annoying demands or questions or make zero effort.  So, nothing about those emails makes you stand out from the others.  So I repsond to anyone who puts in just the slightest amount of effort and ignore those who don't.  It's simple.   Also:  by means of an update, obviously I'm not 18 anymore but I'm afraid to update my profile here.  my birthday is January 28th.  So take the age 18 and the year i started my profile here and add a year for every year between now and then and you'll know exactly how old i. am now. Finally, unless you are a really mean, perverted, nasty daddy, you're probably not the right Man for me.  i. am looking to become owned property.  Can i. be Your daughter too?  Sure.  But i. am not looking for a soft dominant.  Unless You see me first as property and chattel, we won't be a match.

 AcadaMay She's Royal CFNM Ladies Tea Party - Saturday 5th July   You may contact me here to reserve your place.  Most alternative events objectify women, but there is one particular event that reverses the rôles. This is the Clothed Female, Naked Male party. CFNM by definition gives the power back!  Ladies of elegance and sophistication are cordially invited to take the opportunity to mingle with their peers whilst sipping their wine and enjoying the entertainment.  Come & join the the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Tea Party every month for an afternoon of tea & wine with lashings of decadence. All whilst being served by underlings who will be there solely to serve and cater to our every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla tea party again!  Ladies, this is your chance to be served by men and objectify them. CFNM includes activities that are not particularly oriented towards female dominance and superiority, but a modicum of humiliation and punishment to the nude men not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged!  Gentlemen, this is your chance to parade yourself in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM.

I am a little oddly obsessed with my ears. Or rather, with having clean ears. I'm not sure why, it just is. One time I was sitting in a room full of people at a workshop and the ice breaker was what would you bring to a deserted island? As people introduced themselves and answered the question I heard all of these brilliant high brow responses. But all I could think about was there wouldn't be any Q tips on the island and I would definitely need those. Yes, I know, you're not supposed to put those in your ear. C'mon, man, who doesn't? If the answer is you, immediately stop reading this and go away, we cannot be friends.  So yeah, it's Prime Day. Do I want some fancy kitchen gadget? Probably. Did I buy a hair drying curling thing that I will likely only use twice? You know I did. But you know what else? That ear tool with the camera on the end so you can see all that inside business. And holy buckets, one day shipping! So yeah, it came in this evening and I fired that bad boy up to see just how well my Q tipping has done.  First, it takes some getting used to, the view is backwards. Oh, there's an app so you can see the camera's view on your phone. Left is right, up is down, etc. Everything looks HUGE, you will love that. But so does the wax. Mine was not bad, but with my vigilance I was expecting bare floors. Not the case. Don't worry, it wasn't much, and I officially have clean ears now, but sweet baby Jesus I cannot believe how amazing that little tool is. A clean ear keeper's dream. Ten out of ten. Go get one. Don't use it to make other things look bigger.  Is this the weirdest post so far? I'm not sure. 

what is sophia in a song? version 1 there are a lot of songs that encapsulate the original sophia source/soul/codes what have you. but today i'm just going to focus on one.   book of love is pretty much boomer grimoire and required reading for anyone on the journey for sure. every song, lyric, aesthetic, title..the whole thing was definately translated from source. shout out to them for paving the way for sure.   if you know the vibe, you know the vibe. if you know the time, you know the time. if you were there, you were there. it was quite the party energetically if you can unpeel what the message is in this visual. it's another chris brown how are you mad when you can't get into the party vibe.   pretty boys and pretty girls is such a great foundational song. it talks about the ability to love and connect with all genders and the joy of spreading light into the world. and how life is full of intense feelings including joy and pleasure and delight. it's a big go big or go home sort of vibe song.   When I'm alone and you're away I just close my eyes and I drift away your warm body is what I'm without I just close my eyes and I dream aboutPretty boys and pretty girls pretty boys and pretty girls (when I'm without) pretty boys (I dream about) pretty girlsStranges in the night exchanging glances but sex is dangerous I don't take my chances the boys I meet say I look lonely but I just walk on my because they're onlyPretty boys and pretty girls pretty boys and pretty girls (when I'm without) pretty boys (I dream about) pretty girlsIn this day and age in a city full of fear with you by my side together we can show we careSpreading joy to the world to every boy and every girlPretty boys and pretty girls pretty boys and pretty girls (what will we show?) spreading joy (where will it go?) to the world   interesting note that album name and the band for this song are entitled:   "Artist: Book of Love   Album: Lullaby   Released: 1988"   what was 1998? broken down to 9. the year of completion.   book of love..lullaby?   because that's the d/s daddy dominant/little girl stuff going on between archangel michael and sophia divine again.   once the signs are there it just lights up everywhere.   spreading j-o-y!   to the world!   the mission right in front of the ears and eyes. 

Collaring It's come to my attention that a lot of Dom's don't have any formal collaring ceremony and tend to awkwardly wing it. There's nothing wrong with that, we all started somewhere. I'm writing this for those Dom's who need a "Step 1" since you can't exactly go to chatgpt and ask for this. This comes after vetting, after ensuring compatibility and establishing limits. Couple things to know about my dynamic before we go further. First, every girl has their "enterance name". Something simple like little one or pretty girl, generic. Then this is when they get both their collar and their slave name. In this case the girl is going from "pretty girl" to "princess". I begin: The room is dim, but there are a few candles lit, casting a glow. The applicant (as I call the new girls) kneels next to Puppy, jewel of my harem, which is a mix between a den mother and a mother superior. I slowly settle into my chair across the room from those two and look directly at the new girl who instinctively lowers her eyes, but lets out the slightest hint of a smile. "Lower your forehead to the floor, and begin crawling towards me," I tell her before she slowly obeys. I begin to recite as she crawls towards me and away from puppy: "For as long as man has walked beside animals he has used collars for a simple reason: To mark his possessions. To control them via means of a leash or just holding the collar. To show that they belong to someone. A collar tells others that this one is not stray, or unclaimed. A collar says something. Pride. Identity. Belonging. But above all that? It shows you are owned." I then reach down, and wrap the collar around her throat. she still hasn't looked up, her forehead still pressed to the floor. I gently lift her chin and smile, and look into her eyes. "Hello, pretty girl. My name is Master, and yours is Princess" Usually there's a soft "hi" and a smile. What you do after this is completely up to you, but I usually turn my personality all the way back on and say something akin to "OK get your ass over here" and wrap her up in a bear hug. Couple notes: I paced myself, matching my cadence to her speed and being careful to finish as she approached. If need be take a moment to tell her to slow down or speed up. Do so with swiftness and command. Something like "I'm sure your more eager to receive your collar than that. you can move a little faster." or "This isnt a race, you will slow down, breathe." I maintain a strict "sir" only name until this point. I am a random dom, therefore I am sir. Its only after she's collared that its official and she can call me Master, Daddy, or whatever was decided upon. The name she was gonna call me was established long ago. I've got a whole post called "Whats in a name?". Take this, modify it to your own needs, critique it, and enjoy.

  But would I talk about my need for your attention? Talk about my desires for naked intimacy, so close and nearly breathless, kisses sweet and juicy, long and short, tongues and fingers intertwining as I try to lick and suck every square inch of your body, the honorarium of your gift and my reception, the stoke of your cock into my opening mouth, hungry to be fed, to be filled, to be possessed by you, penetrated, taken, lust smeared over my uplifted breasts, over my mound, rubbed against my clit, hands pulling it aside with eager participation, equally wanting to lay back, but also to lay you back, concentrate on your growling desire now being swirled with my saliva, my love wetness, stoking you into my mouth, your hips thrusting, your words spoken of being your slut, the one that will get to be used, our passion exalted between us, like a plug into an electrical outlet of my holes....my chant of yes Daddy, yes Daddy...both silent, murmured, coming out loud in my head as I join you on the edge of our orgasm...ride it, babe, ride it...   That's what I would talk about.

So many letters asking about the intro quote in my profile. Nope, it's not from a book. I wrote it. For all those who are asking, here's the full version:::   That sweet girl, with the world in her soul, the heart of it on her sleeve, tears like diamonds never shed for the pain of the world felt too sweetly. She holds it all, your dreams, your desires, and the ability to take your darkest fantasies and make them whole. She is strength of spirit, and her soul flies free above you. You can take her to arm, like a falcon coming to roost, but you will never tether this feather of sunlight. Yet, fragile is this creature. As if to say, all your words were glass in delicate hands. One false word, and the glass shatters, shards of bloody pain amidst her fragile fingers. Oh, speak you the truth, that her gentle hands stay soft and her eyes glow for you. Speak you the truth, that the world, your world, not shatter and leave her with glow extinguished. Rather let her fly, admiring the curve of her as she soars, knowing that it is to you she returns, that sweet girl, to let you glimpse the heart of it all deep within falcon green eyes."  by yourgirljoy 2022

As required by my Dom, I publicly declare the following: I am subMeghan, and as I type this this, whenever I am here on CollarSpace, I am to remain completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… Today’s Journal Topic Is: I Am Now On CollarSpace Chat!   One of many fantasies my Dom/Hubby has for me is to be a webcam model.  He just loves the idea of me being completely nude in front of an unseen audience of men who I interact with and ultimately masturbate for them.   For a variety of reasons, that is simply never going to happen. Neither of us want to actually make that a reality.  However, we did come up with a way for me to come as close as I can to doing this. For the past few months, I have been playing around with CollarSpace’s chat rooms.  The first few times, I would only pop in for a few minutes, see what people were talking about, then quickly exit. The first time someone requested a private chat with me, I freaked out and exited the chat altogether.  I was such a wimp!  LOL However, over time, I’ve gotten used to it and have had some really enjoyable conversations with some of you all.   A couple observations so far. 1> Collar Space chat can be really buggy.  Getting booted out happens a lot! 2> Chat users are way more nice to me than I expected.  (I’ve previously written about how abusive some of the messages I receive can be.) 3> More often than not, users are more interested in chatting than roleplaying. 4> Male subs seem to be quite needy.  (This is just an observation, not a judgement.)   My Dom’s chat guidelines for me are as follows: 1> Of course, I am always to nude at all times.  I am to disclose that I am nude if asked or appropriate. 2> Be gracious, courteous and friendly. 3> Answer all questions honestly.  However, I may decline to answer any question that I deem to be inappropriate. 4> There are no taboo or inappropriate topics. 5> I do have to tolerate rude, abusive users.  I have the discretion to terminate any conversation that I am uncomfortable with or deem to be unacceptably rude or abusive. 6> At my discretion, I may engage in any roleplay scenario that I feel comfortable with. 7> During roleplay, I am allowed to submit to other online Doms.  However, my Dom’s/Hubby’s rules/limits always supersede any other online Dom’s commands. 8> During roleplay, if possible, I am to attempt to physically implement whatever I say I am doing.  For example: If I say that I am putting clothespins on my nipples, then I need to actually put clothespins on my nipples, etc. 9> No webcam, no video, no photos.  Sorry, not going to happen.   I do not plan on having any kind of chat schedule.  If I’m there. I’m there.  If I’m not, I’m not. If you see me on chat, feel free to just say Hi.   subMeghan  

  Have you had a threesome? One or two, mmf with the Mrs. Do you like sex toys? I do, they are pretty. Would you ever have sex with your best friend? I experimented as you do with a male friend who was transitioning m to f. Something that will never fail to make you horny? Blood of course! Favorite parts of the opposite sex? Legs all the way, lips, eyes. Favorite parts on the same sex? Package obviously lol, smile, lips.

just surviving a heart attack puts a lot into perspective, currently off work while they get my blood pressure under control. So far it's been 2 months since I ended up in hospital following the heart attack. There's only me now that my wife passed away a few years ago. We got into the lifestyle together both being dominant in our other relationships and so we went to munches, kink events and exhibitions. We'd watch the rope training, suspension bondage and anything else that took our fancy. We were approached to start training submissive's initially just fem identifying and fem gender, but it progressed to subs/sissies and febboy/girls. They would live-in with us and train, kind of a course and they would leave with a certificate back to their owners. Since she's passed, I've done it a few more times on my own keeping up the training. But the heart attack made me realize that when they leave it's just back to being me on my own again. Which i'm now seeing as sucks lol.

Everything He Has, Until There Is Only Me There is a particular music to it that I do not think you can understand until you have heard it in a room that belongs to you, with someone who has given you permission to play. The crack of a whip is not violence. It is punctuation. It is the sound of a sentence ending exactly where you intended it to end, clean and final and ringing in the air long after the moment has passed. It lands and the room holds its breath and in that held breath is everything: the authority that swung it, the surrender that received it, the particular electricity that lives in the space between the two. I feel it in my wrist first, then in my chest, then in the slow, satisfied warmth that moves through me when something has gone exactly as I intended. The skin that receives it blooms and I watch that blooming the way an artist watches a canvas accept color. With attention. With pleasure. With the specific pride of someone who knows their medium. The paddle is a different thing entirely. Where the whip sings, the paddle speaks in a lower register, a hard and resonant thud that you feel in your bones before your skin has finished deciding what happened. There is no elegance to it and that is precisely the point. It is blunt and declarative and it leaves no room for ambiguity. You know what it means when it lands. You knew what it meant before it landed. The sound of it fills a room completely, the way a bell fills a room, and the echo of it lives in the body for hours afterward, a reminder that resurfaces every time you shift your weight, every time you sit, every time your body moves against itself and finds me there, already waiting. The cane is my favorite. I will not pretend otherwise. There is a patience to the cane that suits me. The way you must take your time with it, must place it with intention, must understand that it is not a blunt instrument but a precise one. The marks it leaves are not accidents. They are calligraphy. Long and deliberate and raised against the skin like script, like something written, like the physical evidence of a conversation that only two people in the world were present for. I trace them afterward sometimes, these lines I have drawn on a body that belongs to me, and feel the same quiet satisfaction that I imagine a sculptor feels running a hand over finished stone. I made this. This is mine. You will carry this for days. And my own skin, where the energy moves through me like current, where the act of wielding produces its own particular heat, a tingling that lives in the palms and travels, that settles somewhere behind the sternum and glows. I glow. There is no more honest word for it. Something in me lights from the inside when I am in full possession of my own authority and someone is receiving it with everything they have. Neruda wrote that he wanted to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees, and I have always understood this not as tenderness alone but as inevitability, as the specific hunger of something that transforms whatever it touches simply by being what it is. That is what I want from you. Not your performance of devotion. Your actual transformation. I want to be the thing that happens to you, the season that changes the look of everything, so that you cannot see your own hands without thinking of what they are for, cannot move through a room without feeling the architecture of my expectations around you like a second skin. I want to wring you dry. Not cruelly. Completely. I want every thought that crosses your mind to carry my fingerprints on it, want you so thoroughly oriented toward me that pleasing me stops being a task and becomes simply the direction your nature moves, the way water moves downhill without deciding to. I want your first thought in the morning to be what She needs today and your last thought at night to be whether you gave it well enough. I want the obsession to be so total that it clarifies rather than confuses you, the way a religion clarifies the faithful, the way a vocation clarifies an artist who has finally stopped pretending they could have been anything else. Bring me what delights me. You know what it is because you have paid attention, because attention to me is the one thing I require above all others and you have either given it or you have not. By now we both know which. The particular tea, the correct temperature, in the cup that fits my hand the way I like. The flowers I mentioned once three months ago that I did not think anyone was listening to. The way a room should be before I enter it, the light and the temperature and the specific quiet that tells me someone has thought about me before I arrived. The knowledge, brought to me unprompted, of something I would want to know. The book left on my nightstand, the right one, chosen not from a list I gave you but from everything you have learned about the country inside my mind. Shower me in it until I glow. Charlotte Bronte understood this, I think, better than she is given credit for. Rochester did not love Jane Eyre the way men in novels usually love women, as a soft and worshipful thing, a pedestaling. He loved her with his whole difficult complicated weight, loved her as his equal and his better and his necessity, and she received it not with flutter but with the straight-backed dignity of a woman who has always known her own worth and was simply waiting for someone else to catch up. That is the love I recognize. Not the love that flatters but the love that sees, that is almost furious in its recognition, that cannot look away because looking away would require pretending the world is smaller than it is. Neruda again: I want to do with you what spring does with the cherry trees. Yes. And also: I hunger for your sleek laugh and your hands the color of a furious harvest. The wanting in Neruda is never polite. It is consuming and precise and it names its object with the specificity of someone who has studied what they love until they know it better than it knows itself. That is the quality of devotion I am describing. Not the vague warmth of general affection. The focused, detailed, almost scholarly hunger of someone who has made another person their life's primary text. Learn me that well. Want me that specifically. Bring it to me not in grand declarations but in the ten thousand small and correct details that prove you have been paying attention every single day, that prove my preferences live in you the way music lives in a musician, available instantly, expressed naturally, impossible to separate from who you have become. And when I glow, and I will glow, when something in me settles into that incandescent satisfaction of being known and tended and

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

 "£€ Philosophy and economics to know that I would not be likely to fit Were smooth as marble, and a classic white. I could see no doors   Had been carelessly knotted back together. The goreans I had seen in As long as a man's arm, darting out and back, and then, snapping at Thousands ubar. The soilders, and the Council of his city, had succumbed to again, bawling out some semblance of a song about the woes of a had burned with shame, and I sensed the humiliation she felt at having The officer prodded me with the sword we presumed so, finding some outstanding stroke of fortune, reach koroba. Would she be city? Teasing them as to how handsome their new masters would be. the tent. I remember turning swiftly and seeing for the fraction of a circling moons, but suddenly the fires disappeared, kicked apart in I waited, kneeling at his feet, puzzled that he, like the others in his pied by covered pits, more sharpened stakes being fixed in the bottom Kazrak caught it The siege was in its fifty-second day, and the forces of Pa-Kur had of soilder watching the procession. I ran blindly through the now to the streets below to rally the dispirited citizens of AR, to call them Epilogue

"First Encounter" Inner thoughts of this dom. HIM:  "Today I'm about to meet this incredibly sexy submissive ive been coveting for a while. She a cute little thing that would be perfect to join my family. I wonder how quick she will succumb to my will? What and how far will she go to be allowed to orgasm?" These as many other stray and random thought rattled their way around my mind. The excitement mounting as we were about to meet real time after a very long period of online and phone chats as we each revealed ourselves to each other. Developing what we hoped would be a meet that would cause sparks to fly within us as the anticipation had grown that seductive. I meet you at a quiet little bar. There we introduce ourselves for the first time in real life. I feel like I know so much about you after the many weeks we have spent chatting online. You are even more beautiful in person. As I hug you tightly to my body the faint whiff of your perfume entices me. I slowly slide my hands down your back as out tongues dance in our joined mouths. Working down your firm ass I can't help but squeeze your cheeks. I slight moan escapes your lips into my mouth. I disengage our lips and bring my face against your neck. Once again inhaling your perfume and freshly washed hair. As I bring one hand up to your head to hold it in place as I nuzzle your neck my other hand slides up your short dress to make sure you followed my instructions and didn't wear underwear.  I pull your head to the side by your hair exposing your neck. Like Dracula I attack your neck. Nibbling and licking it as I work my way to your naked shoulder. My other hand openly caressing your naked ass for all to see. I am so proud of her. She passingly mentioned to me that she was never into PDA nor was she much for kissing. Yet here we stood locked together mouth to mouth for all the world to see. "If only she had gotten thus kind of affection more often. Would she feel differently?" I think to myself.  She feels the cool breeze against her naked ass as I intentionally expose it. I want to see her reaction to my actions. Will she deny my? If I am to be her sir surely she will comply. She knows if she passes the tasks I will bestow upon her over the next week that she will find shelter within my arms. Secure in the fact that I will help her grow and be there to catch her when she falls. For this she will give me her mind, heart and body but eventually I want to own her soul. The pilgrimage of that honor is my quest.   HER: Feeling you lift my incredibly already short skirt and the breeze on my ass, you feel my whole body grow warm, and see the bright red spreading across my skin, as i move my hand to cover my poor ass and gs every so quietly, in your grip i do my best to turn away from the other people near by knowing i wont get far i still wiggle and whisper a quiet "Sir, theres people looking" all the whole attempting to pull the skirt back down and cover myself.  As she tries to pull back her skirt feeling humiliated and embarrassed I quietly whisper in her ear. It ok baby girl. You are beautiful scars and all. I desire to show you off. Love yourself for me.  You feel my fingers sliding between the cheeks of your ass. Relieved that this action is allowing your skirt to begin covering your nakedness. Suddenly you feel my finger tip dip between your lips that are moist from fear and excitement. The action is quick and efficient. Only lasting a split second yet the feelings it created within you may last much longer. You quickly look around to see if anyone noticed your reaction and what sir is doing to you. There at the bar is a young man. He can't be any older than 22. A grin on his face as he quickly turns away when you look his way as if you wouldn't notice the lust within his eyes. You suddenly feel wanted and desired.  Here your sir wants you and is giving you the attention you've been longing for for so long. And a man who is so young looks at you like a cougar with lust. Willing to pounce on you if he could. All these thoughts are running freely thru your tangled mind. Mixed emotions running ramped like a freed feral cat. Yet your body is betraying you with its actions. You turn suddenly away from me pulling me towards the waiting booth in the darker corner. I see the flushed look in your face. The embarrassment I have caused you. It turns me on making my cock twitch even more. The wetness I felt when dipping my finger in you showed me how your body betrays your mind. Although embarrassed you are turned on. Is it because of my actions or because you were being watched. I glance at the young man who is once again looking. I look him in the eye with alpha male intimidation that has served me well all my life. Something earned taught and released from my primal interior being from the years I spent in special forces while in the military. Something about one who has seen things that show the ugliness of man is like an imprint. Although not visible it is detected in posture. My eyes show a certain sadness but also scream that I am not one to be reckoned with. The young man immediately turns away. He picks up his beer and goes to the other end of the bar. Interpreting the unsaid message given to him by just a glare by a man more than twice his age. That instant momentarily distracts me as I faintly hear something you said but didn't fully acknowledge.  I pull you back to me. Holding you tight against my body once again. I feel your breasts pressed against my chest. Our groins mashed together as if they already know what is to come later. Anxious to get started as my cock strains against the denim of my jeans held prisoner. I whisper once again into your ear. "It's OK baby girl. I want to feel you against me for another moment.  After all these weeks you are now flesh and not just words. I nip your bare shoulder lightly with my teeth.  My tongue then flicks back and forth where my teeth once bit as if to offer a healing moment.  Unneeded tho because of the gentleness of it. Putting the smile on my face that I use for the world, the one that doesn't necessarily reach my eyes but seems to somehow charm everyone that comes in contact with.  Feeling you slide into the booth next to me, I have to concentrate so hard. In a way that I do not tense up, but keep my body relaxed. In the way "he who must not be named" showed me at all times. Afterall, no man wants to cuddle a corpse Katey! Shaking the thought from my head. I relax and let my features fall soft. Warm and welcoming. I risk a glance up from the table where my gaze has previously been focused and catch his eyes. They're peering into mine! Why on earth does it feel like he's looking straight into my soul? No one ever notices this much or pays this much attention. I know I'm cute tonight. Hell, I'm always cute. Enough cleavage showing to capture the attention of everyone in the room that has a penis and even some who don't. Why is he so focused on my eyes?  Shifting nervously but trying so hard to stay relaxed. (No one cuddles a corpse Katey!) I can't help but freeze just a bit as he grabs my hand pulling it to his face. Please don't notice the sweaty palms I chant in my head. He's going to think I'm insane or unable to show love. SHIT! What if he thinks I don't like him?  Pushing the thoughts from my head again drawing my focus back to the moment. I realize he's speaking to me. Not hearing half the words, but his eyes capturing mine again like he seems to have a talent of doing. I see a soft side in there. Someone honestly gentle.  You've seen that before too Katey! Right before the black eye my brat pipes up. Shut up it's different this time try to have faith. I zone back into his words and catch something about being his pet for the night.  About being taught new things. This stirs the curious one, the fun filled one with the will to live inside me. She gets super excited bouncing up and down like a child seeing stars for the first time. Eyes shining bright. She loves to learn new things.  All this flashes across my face before the brat hog ties her and sits her back down in the chair. For once her and I agree. Now is not the time for you to surface we're still treading new waters here. Wondering if he saw the roller coaster of emotions going through my twisted broken mind before my face settles. Back to the factory style smile and shining blue eyes all the men seem to love. I relax into his touch trying to show I'm not a mutant. Afraid I'll come off robotic. The motions coming so natural they seem programmed ( No one cuddles a corpse Katey!)  Hoping this gets past him and smile briefly hearing him say, "Tonight I own you". I reply with a sweet, "Yes Sir! I can't wait." Looking into her eyes as he holds her hand for reassurance he sees inner conflict. A turbulent turmoil of emotions taking flight within. He understands these feelings all too well. Demons that he himself has wrestled with for most of his life. His innocence stripped away from him as a delusional teenager.  His mind flashes back to the day he graduated high school. Signing his life away for the next 4yrs. Gonna be a GI! Government Issued, warrior. Right the wrongs and save the world from evil.  Yeah if only he knew who the enemy really was. How evil is everywhere in so many shapes and forms. A delusioned man child at only 18 who thought he knew it all. Quickly his mind snaps back to her. He lays her hand on his thigh and holds it there. Mere inches from his inflamed cock. Swelling that she has caused. Yes she is cute. Those beautiful braless tits on display. Just as he had instructed her to show off. Her beautiful, wanting to please, features displayed on her face. Her body, in that short dress. This too he had requested. One that could have started wars centuries ago. Her freshly washed hair with a hint of fruity smell.  My God what I want to do to that body! But no not yet! Beautiful women are a dime a dozen. That's not what I am after. I want that inner beauty I know is there hiding in fear in the darkness. Perhaps behind one too many negative experiences.  He looks at her again. Tilts his head to the side and leans in. Plants a soft kiss upon her forehead. "This is to free your mind of evil thoughts.", he tells her. Then leaving her hand on his thigh he takes hold of her head. One hand on either side and draws it to him. He kisses one eye, as her eyes instinctively closed. Perhaps out of fear. Then he kisses the other. "These are to ward off evil visions and nightmares.", he tells her. As he releases her he notices her hand is right where he left it. Is it out of fear he wonders as he glances down. Then he sees her moving her hand. Rubbing his thigh. Almost as if she is giving him a non-verbal thank you. Thanking her lucky stars she's put on her trained face. Her body falling in line with the program. This scene all well to practiced in previous encounters with other men. Her body doesn't trip her up for once. It manages to stay relaxed when he reaches for her hand placing it on his thigh.  He keeps her hand trapped under his a few moments. A feeling she's used to. The pinned down feeling. But this time something is different about it. Maybe it's the soft sweet words coming from a reassuring mouth. Instead of the normal don't move whore she was used to. Maybe its the sweet soft kisses he's laid upon her forehead or eyes. She's never felt something like this in all her years experience with men. She finds it confusing. Yet comforting. Feeling that wonder child inside stir some more before the brat slaps her in the back of the head. This is why you stay locked down. Too eager and not enough caution.  The mix of emotions inside rolling over in her mind cause an automatic reaction. The smile softens on her lips. Eyes closing just a little before she peers up at him through her lashes. His hand has moved but two things occured. One she knows never to move from a spot youve been placed unless you want the belt. Yet, a stranger feeling she's not sure she's felt before. Of not wanting to move hand this time. In fear of feeling to stiff again she lightly brushes her fingertips along his thigh. Not out of habit this time but because maybe part of her actually wanted to.  Squeezing her thighs together she notices how wet she's become. She can't understand it. Pressing them tighter in fear of leaving behind a wet spot. She can't help but think, "Where are the drinks?" His relief at feeling her hand beginning to rub his thigh is a welcome relief. Although part of him wonders. Is this just a programmed response? Is she like the many other women he has spent countless hours with chatting, exchanging photos and erotica only to vanish after the session was over.  Almost as if, they, no different than what would be considered creepy guys. They used him to flirt and arouse until they achieved their level of sexual satisfaction and then disappeared. Leading him on like a cruel joke. No he says. That's why he reminds himself, it's not about the sex.  If not to toy with him then what would a beautiful young woman see in an older man like himself. The look in her eyes as she looks at him gives him strength. He sees so much of himself in her. Scars of hurt, rejection, pain and broken promises of lost love.  Yet here I am today he says almost out loud. Daring to take each step to move forward proud and strong. To never give up and to fight whatever battle comes my way. In whatever shape or form it manifests itself. His strength comes from his confidence. A weaker man would be shy and afraid to take a chance again for fear of once again being used and rejected. Tossed aside like left over scraps. But no not me. I am a WARRIOR! I want to believe that there are still people who can love out there the way I do. It keeps my faith in humanity from being irradicated. All this swims through him as his mind processes it all with the lightning speed of a super computer. Just like his training. Compartmentalize evaluate the situation and act. It has worked for him all his life. The long pause between them like a moment of silence causes some awkwardness between them. Then he feels her rubbing his thigh harder. More confidently as if by her own attrition and not a programmed response or expectational desire. It's as if she can see him go far away and is saying, "I'm here. I want to be here and you're ok". Once again he looks into her eyes and sees something that wasn't there before. A softness. A real glitter almost as if they were smiling at him. Wanting and desiring him. His already hard cock twitches. He feels it touch against her hand from the unexpected reaction she's caused. He feels a wetness against his bare thigh as he realizes he's leaking because of her! Thoughts are interrupted as the waitress finally arrives. He orders a Sprite for himself and looks at her and asks. "What would you like beautiful?" A gentle nibble and a kiss! Her coy way of showing affection is illuminating. Her cute sense of witty humor threw him off guard but breaks a grin on his face. She has the humor in her like I do he thinks.  He turns to her and sees her sitting there hands clasped together on her lap. Legs firmly held tight as if to ward off foreign invaders and protect her real-estate.  He slowly eyes her up and down. Her breasts he notices pushed out as if she is attempting to seduce him with them. Her heavy breathing pushing them in and out each time she takes a breath.  He notices how the dress accents her features and brings out the woman in her. Good choice he thinks to himself glad that he purchased it for her and had it shipped to her. Along with the garters that hold up those incredible stockings he liked so much. As he continues down he sees the cowgirl boots as well. He noticed how well the whole outfit fit her earlier but was too enthralled with other things to notice all the details till now. Even tho they are imprinted in his mind to remember forever. Their first meet and date which if leads to what he hopes and knows she desires may be a long term relationship. He brings his eyes up and looks deep into her eyes now. He made it quite obvious that he was checking her out. He looks at her hoping that checking her out and admiring her has pleased her. Perhaps even aroused her. He leans in and plants a soft and gentle kiss on her neck again. He loves necks and shoulders. Moving to her ear as the waitress returns with their drinks He whispers. "You are sexy as fuck. Even more beautiful in person than all the pictures and videos you sent me can capture. If only you knew how much I desire you right now." The waitress places the drinks in front of them smiling as she overheard his comment. She even noticed his tongue flicker across her ear. "Would you two like anything to eat tonight?" She asks. He looks at her and grins. "On our menu" she chuckles knowing what that grin insinuated. His Katey too giggled at that. Feeling more confident in herself knowing his desire was genuine.  He laughing says. Yes please can you bring us some menus.  You obviously know what I would like as my appetizer and dessert He says to the waitress knowing she has a good sense of humor. The waitress laughs with him. I don't blame you she says. I would probably skip all of that and just have her as the main course myself..... A chuckle from in his heart surfaces itself. It's audible sound to those within earshot turn to look it is that infectious and genuine. He wraps his arm around her neck as she cuddles into him for the first time. Feeling her warmth against him he wraps his arm around her neck holding her closer to him. Enjoying how she feels. He notices and feels her hand upon his thigh. This time voluntarily and with movement of its own.  "She's a firecracker isn't she" he half asks half states to the waitress. The waitress can't help but notice in the position she is in now with her head tucked into him, his arm around her neck asnif claiming ownership that she can see right down her dress. Her beautiful breast in plain sight and her nipples hard from arousal. She sees the woman's hand move to his thigh. The action of her rubbing draws her attention to it. She notices how hard he is and how his cock is running down the inside of his thigh mere millimeters from her hand. She notices what looks to be a damp spit on his jeans. She's is mesmerized by these two as she is hypnotized by their hidden affection and the energy radiating from them. She sees her run her finger along the length of his rigid cock. Slowly methodically with purpose. This little vixen knows exactly what she is doing as she looks up at her, stares into her eyes and grins. His cock continually twitching and pulsing from her actions. His voice draws her back to reality. "Whatever she wants tonight. We are celebrating our union" he says. Then he looks down at her as she lifts her eyes to meet his. A glimmer that sparkles thru his piercing blue eyes looking deep into hers. "What would my darling pet like to eat" he softly asks her. As he waits for her reply he can't help but feel a rush running thru his body. The way she's teasing his cock on her own. She may think that he didn't notice the pixy like smile she gave the waitress who saw her doing it. As he looks down into her eyes to ask her what she would like he too notices the plunging neckline of her dress is allowing anyone above her to see her tits. He sees her nipples standing out exceptionally far and hard from the soft roundness of her breast.  It excites him making him leak once again. He can feel the wet warmth released from the eye of his cock. After asking her what she would like he gently blows down the front of her dress. His breath running down her neck across her brwasr and to her nipples. He swears it looks like they just got bigger from that. He turns to the waitress noticing she saw this too. Her reaction is priceless. Her almost hypnotic state excites him. She TOO wants and desires his little pet nestled softly and safely against him as his strong arm holds her tight. He blinks his eyes several times. The light starting to creep its way into the room is almost blinding. He rubs them trying to get the sleep out of them as he looks around and then checks out the clock. Looking down at his crotch he realizes his cock is still hard. There's even a couple wet spots on his underwear. Clearing his head he slowly gets up to go make coffee. Wow that was one hell of a dream he smiles to himself remembering it.  

Reason vs Emotion Many answer My profile with uncertainty about what and who they are. A few have even suggested (demanded, can you believe?) I kidnap them, confine them, torture them until (guess what?) they become what they actually need to be: a total slave.  More frequently, the neophyte slave wants Me to convince their reasoning self that they actually need to be what their emotional inborn self wants and needs. Engaging in dialog with this group leads to exhaustion on My part and ultimate discovery by the struggling slave that “we do not fit” or “it can not quite give up its current existence.” They are trapped in their own internal conflict that I would be hard pressed resolve for them.  On the continuum of living the reality and harboring dreams, fantasies and in born desire those described above are in the middle. Probably, as might well be depicted under a bell curve, that would be the 80% occupying the center range. My guess is about 10% of those with inborn need to submit will live their lives, probably with nagging discontent and frustration, without ever confronting that need. It is the last 10% of the population that I want to find. This last little group are slaves that have accepted what they are. Most likely, if they think about why they are what they are, they will consider themselves ‘born slave.’ Probably only 5% of that 10% will successfully arrive for my inspection. So, in terms of what I do here, the slave the responding to My profile should not expect chat or kidnapping. But rather, be prepared to sacrifice enough to travel to Me for the possible start of a lifetime of what they were born to do: service.

I bring it on myself, I know. I am a perfectionist overachiever and I do too much. Earlier I was taking a break watching tv, and a song came on. I don't even remember the song now, but I burst into tears for a good few minutes for no reason at all. Other than I have created a monster of a deadline that I am spending way too much time working on. No balance. But we knew this.  The other day I had a conversation with someone about pacifiers. Not just the what, but the why, and the stigma and labels, and how none of that matters. I bought two, they're purple. After a run through the dishwasher I tried one out the other day. I don't know that I feel anything, but I also don't know what it is I'm supposed to feel or if it has to be used in conjunction with a particular activity, like coloring. Which I hadn't done in that moment. Or this one. I kind of feel like Maggie Simpson. What I don't feel like is an infant, and I'm glad of that. Guess I'll continue my experiment another day when I can do more things with less stress. I'm still calling this progress in breaking down barriers. Oh, and I bought bubbles. Looking forward to a day when it's not a million degrees outside. 

I stand before you. A Master Hypnotist trained in the ways of seduction and coercion. The collar that enslaves you still wreathes your lovely neck you can feel it, but how it has become invisible is unclear. You sense my hunger and begin to unbutton your blouse while unrestrained, addictive pleasure courses through your mind and body. Your blouse slips silently to the floor as you begin to remove your brazier and it suffers the same fate. Hoping desperately that your Master is pleased, you help your skirt slide down your legs to join the rest of you clothing. I stand close, forcing your gaze to meet mine, extinguishing the last of your free will. I fondle your breasts then the curve of your waist. I run my hand slowly up your spine and pull you close. You shudder and and struggle to remove your panties. Now as you stand before your Master, unadorned, a tidal wave of arousal washes through you but you there is no release in sight. I motion and you sink slowly to the floor, fully naked, legs folded beneath you. Looking up at your Master, enraptured, doe eyed, staring longingly into my face, you place your hands on your thighs just the way you know that you should and feel the magic of my will and words bind you firmly into that position. I touch your lower lip with my thumb and slowly open your mouth. I slip my fingers every so carefully around the lips that will soon caress my cock. You feel yourself growing wetter, wetter everywhere as your desire for me grows but still you are not allowed to cum. I touch your cheek, the lobe of your ear, slide my hand past your supple shoulder and as I reach down and let my finger encircle your left nipple my hard cock brushes your cheek and you are set aflame by passion as I command you cum. Explosions of rapture seize your body and you are racked in orgasm. Cum now! Harder! Cum for your Master! Harder! I slip my stiff cock into your mouth and as you close your soft lips around it another wave of frenzied pleasure rips through your body. Heaving in orgasm you suck and you lick frantically trying to make me climax. Finally, you taste the saltiness of me, feel the warmth on the back of your throat as I cum into your mouth. Greedily you swallow my gift as the next wave of indescribable pleasure tears through your body setting every nerve, every cell aflame. I leave you burning as I slowly extract my member. Your mouth hangs open wide, not knowing what else to do. You still can't move as the last bit of my germ drips from the corner of your mouth onto your nipple. I look down at my perfect slave and tell you to relax, sleep now and you collapse wearily to the floor spent, happy to the core of your soul that you pleased your Master this time. I pick you up, take you to bed. I gently kiss your lips, the small of your throat, a nipple, naval, your clit. I circle about you. Open your trembling legs. Run my hands down the velvety, warm flesh of your inner thighs as phase two of your training begins.

**Journal Entry for jloveslut:**   I’ve been reflecting a lot on the journey of self-discovery and exploration that led me here, to a place where I can openly embrace my authentic self. My experiences as a switch, and my desire to connect with others who understand the nuances of my gender identity and orientation, have been pivotal in shaping who I am today.   In the realm of BDSM and kink, finding a community where I can express both my dominant and submissive sides has been incredibly empowering. It’s a space where I can explore, learn, and grow without judgment. I’m continually learning about what it means to be part of a community that values consent, respect, and communication above all else. These elements are at the core of the connections I’m seeking, and I appreciate how spaces like this offer that opportunity.   I’m looking forward to meeting others who share similar values and interests. Whether it’s engaging in conversations about lifestyle choices, exploring new dynamics, or just making friends who understand this part of my life, I am excited for the possibilities that lie ahead. Here’s to continuing the journey of exploration, growth, and meaningful connections.   Thank you for reading, and feel free to reach out if any of this resonates with you.   — J

A note for those who choose to message me:   I’m not interested in sexual résumés or exhaustive lists of past experiences as an opening introduction. Depth, discernment, restraint, and self-ownership matter to me far more than explicit history.   I pay attention to how someone lives their everyday life — work ethic, accountability, emotional intelligence, time management, and their ability to carry responsibility. Submission, as I define it, comes from stability, conscious choice, and integrity — not self-erasure, obligation, or performance.   If you are currently uncollared and reaching out, this is the appropriate time to show who you are now: how you manage your work life, how you contribute within a household or structured environment, how you balance ambition with discipline, and how you envision your future. I am interested in alignment, not nostalgia.   It’s also worth stating plainly: as we age, bodies change. That is reality, not failure. Physical limitations or changes — including erectile issues — are not disqualifiers to me. What matters is confidence, honesty, self-awareness, and the ability to live fully in the present rather than clinging to a past version of yourself.  

 AfricanGoddessUK