For whoever needs to "hear" this.. It’s easy to feel uncared for when people aren’t able to communicate and connect with you in the way you need. And it’s so hard not to internalize that silence as a reflection on your worth. But the truth is that the way other people operate is not about you. Most people are so caught up in their own responsibilities, struggles, and anxiety that the thought of asking someone else how they’re doing doesn’t even cross their mind. They aren’t inherently bad or uncaring — they’re just busy and self-focused.. And that’s okay. It’s not evidence of some fundamental failing on your part. It doesn’t make you unlovable or invisible. It just means that those people aren’t very good at looking beyond their own world. But the fact that you are — that despite the darkness you feel, you have the ability to share your love and light with others — is a strength. Your work isn’t to change who you are; it’s to find people who are able to give you the connection you need. Because despite what you feel, you are not too much. You are not too sensitive or too needy. You are thoughtful and empathetic. You are compassionate and kind. And with or without anyone’s acknowledgment or affection, you are enough.  

Hello to the Newbies, Lifers, Kinksters, and PowerPlay People, This was my favorite place to blog.  When it was bought and they made it hard to post in your profile and changes required a wait to be approved, which went on for part of a year, I left. My life has been moving and doing since I was last on here often posting my thoughts.  I still have saved the oiriginal posts I put in my profile.   Some of it was some interesting shit I don't want to rewrite for a podcast or a book. We are all here to be open, open on the inside and with many hiding their outside with masks and fetish wear..lmao  but open still.  Wide open aren't you, you cumsluts. To the Men who are just kinksters and here for sex primarily, most of you don't interest me in the least.   I am born a naturally Dominant/Alpha and even in my vanilla life I am the one in charge.  Period.  If you are not able to submit without worrying about sex and orgasms, if you need to act up to be punished, you are not of interest to me.   My interests include spending a LOT of my time painting, writing and getting an art business up and running so I am independant and no longer on SSI after breast cancer.   One of the things I dealt with in my time away from here. I am a computer geek, with two pitbulls, art supplies for several businesses, and I am home with a great garden and mobile home spot I will sell in a few years.  Someone who wants to create art or go tech and work on websites, social media for stores, etc. or a good dog person, house cleaner who has a great vocabulary fits my lifestyle.  Lots of free time to learn and improve your own life is a good fit as well. My life has included fantastic sex, better than yours in most cases.  I prefer to wait to have a superior time than fuck someone not worth a dime.   I am getting shit fixed in my life before I care about a sex partner.    My sex type is not the same as my companion type, unless you are a computer geek with a great smile, abs, ass and eyes....lmao    Let life roll and have fun, Lola the Iron Mistress

Oh no Im Blocked So you contact someone after reading their profile. You can see that you don't fit what they seek but hell you contact them anyway.  They chat with you whilst trying to make it clear that you are looking in the wrong place for the help you seek. You then decided to call them names and block them. Maybe you need to look in the mirror as they are not the issue you are. Respect is what you need and just because they seem to be what you want does not mean you are what they want. SoS

These things fill my submissive dreams:My partner wants to lead a relationship based on a happy friendship and sharing positive feelings.My partner enjoys using chastity to satisfy her need to possess her lover. She enjoys being center of attention when she wears clothes that men cannot ignore, especially me. She wants a partner who submits to her excitement for taking control physically using locks and keys.She would like to use her man's sexual energy to teach him to obey her. She want license to be persuasive on her terms.She is willing to take time to acknowledge my service with little erotic rewards even when she is tired. Words are enough.She is interested in putting mutual health activities into our shared routines of life for which we are both responsible.I'd be happy to do yoga, massage and connective breathing as our most frequent intimate activities.I enjoy being appreciated for my sexual arousal as a compliment to you at the same time I enjoy being denied sex as sincere submission to you.I'd like to demonstrate my experience with turning arousal in chastity into the intense desire to make you happy in non-sexual ways.I feel loved when locked in chastity but still want to make love when you decide to take it off. Please lock it up when you are done.I want to believe that you require chastity to prevent masturbation so that I stay fully erect when you want me to be.I am enchanted to believe you like chastity because it prevents anyone else from tempting me, that you now own me without question.The chastity does not need to eliminate having sex, but to control when. A woman who blocks male masturbation is never lonely. It is an easy way to encourage a man to give more hugs and better kisses if he is thinking about sex but cannot touch himself anymore.

Many folks have a difficult time trying to figure out if they are submissive and so I thought some definitions maybe helpful.  Submissive definition  A submissive:   “one who gives over their rights, their desires, and themselves to another. As a gift” (Urban Dictionary);   “willing to obey someone else” (Merriam Webster).    

For those who wonder: That is a 1931 Indian Scout. It is a 3 speed stick shift, 750 cc.It was my dads bike when I was a little kid.He lost it on a sandy curve in 1953 and hit a tree which bent the frame.It laid out in one of our fields up until about 1985 or so.My friend talked my dad out of it and spent nearly 40 years trying to rebuild it. My friend sold it back to me last year but it still would not run. I sent it to a guy in Grand Rapids Mi who specializes in them and he got it running again.I got to ride it last year for the first time since 53.It is a beast to ride. Weighs 850 pounds, has a high compression engine with kick start that can throw a man over the handle bars if it kicks back which it does from time to time.It has a hundred rules you have to observe. It has no crankcase for one, which means the engine oil takes up half of that gas tank and every now and then, you have to hand pump some oil to the engine. Give it a couple of pumps to start it, a pump now and then when ridding, an extra pump to go up a hill or if going fast.It is left hand throttle and right hand magneto advance or retard and you have to advance it, the faster you go. Left foot for the clutch right foot for the rear brake, right hand for the front brake. To shift, it is pull back for first, then two forward for second and third.The brakes are clam shell instead of disk brakes so you have to start braking sooner than a modern bike.There are lots more idiosyncrasys but those are the highlights.

Bridget Choses Enslavement   Bridget’s emotions were running wild.  The ride up to Master’s gave her ample time to reflect on this special occasion.  Bridget was to be enslaved today.  Master had often told her that all women secretly wanted to be possessed and owned by a dominant master.  Collared.  Be an enslaved slut.  Bridget had embraced her inner slave and wanted the delicious certainty of being a strong Master’s owned property.  What a glorious feeling to have no need to carry on with the soul killing charade of denying her sexuality, her submission, her needs and desires. Bridget was so sure.  She couldn’t wait for their special ritual.  The ritual was ordered by her Master but she had made adjustments and additions that had delighted Master.  She knew Master treasured her and all of her. He often remarked on her intelligence and how it drove her kink and also drove his passion to be her owner.  Master always said women with a desire for the collar, for enslavement were usually the very intelligent ones.   Before she left home Bridget paid attention in the shower.  Her shaving was meticulous. Her legs, arms, and pussy were smooth as possible. She thrilled at the thought of the way Master would cup her smooth, oiled pussy and run his hand back and forth as she squirmed and moaned. She knew Master loved to lick and kiss her clit.  He also like to use his Hitachi and a soft makeup brush on her.  He’d alternate the vibrator and brush on her clit.  Sometimes he’d just stop and listen to her breathing.  Bridget loved it when he chained her wrists and ankles in his bed and made her come over and over until she screamed.  He’d gag and blindfold her and make her come some more. Master had learned early in their play to put a towel under her.  The wet spot was something to see. Bridget’s enslavement ritual outfit was all white and had been her idea.  Master had suggested adding long white gloves and she agreed with relish.  Once out of the shower, at Master’s direction, she installed two Ben Wa balls in her pussy.  They went in nicely.  When she walked around she could feel them as she moved.  She wondered if walking in heels would accentuate the sensation.  Oh well, she’d find out soon.  Bridget loved Master’s toy collection.  He had a veritable fleet of vibrators including a very useful remote controlled beauty.  Master said he was shopping for an internet controlled vibrator for some long distance fun.  He also had a selection of nipple clamps, some fun and some she feared.  There was a lot more and she was sure the list was growing After carefully pulling on her white stockings and attaching them to her sexy garter she slipped on her skimpy white panties.  A curvy white push up bra completed her underwear.  She had a nice white blouse with a plunging neckline that accentuated her cleavage. Her brief white skirt would expose her slim legs and white stockings.  Finally she slipped on her white high heels with thosecute sexy little ankle straps.  Naturally she added accessories like a string of pearls and a bright red lipstick.  She decided she’d add her fragrance and put on the white gloves when she arrived at Masters. The miles rolled by.  Her heart sang.  She had made her decision.  It felt so right.  All the things she wanted to experience would be hers in a safe and protected place.  Master would help to explore all the dark kinky places she dreamed about.   The highway intersection appeared on her GPS. She had to turn north.   It was time to call Master.  She heard the phone ring.  Her emotions ping ponged.  Master answered with a pleased voice.  She was close.  He could almost sense her.  They both reveled in the joy of anticipation.     Master remarked that he was looking forward to draping her with his new 1/8” stainless steel chain.  Perhaps chaining her breasts with a nice halter.  When he mentioned that he’d like to chain her in Sirik Bridget’s was incredibly turned on.  The thought of the chain running from her collar to the chained wrist manacles and finally ending on the ankle manacles.  Sirik chain bondage allowed movement but served to remind her that she was owned, protected property.  Master loved everything Gorean and spent a lot of time finding ways to practically adapt the mores of Gor to earth.  A significant Gorean notion is that bondage enhances a woman’s beauty.  Bridget agreed but also concluded bondage made her horny as hell. The rural setting, the trees, the quiet appealed to her.  Here’s the driveway.  Turning right and pulling up the long driveway she found herself next to Master’s car and she knew, the beginning of her life changing event was close at hand.  She put her car in park and applied the parkingbreak.  She felt that she also applied a break on her normal, vanilla life.  She would enter the BDSM Sea.  Enter it as one of the more exotic and nuanced denizens.  She would be a slave girl, specifically a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  Bridget and Master had discussed many aspects of enslavement, slave protocols, sexual ownership, and what they each wanted.  She agreed with Master that after all, it was at its heart, an exotic adult game.  They both knew few could play the game, few could accept their role, and few could adhere to the rules and enjoy them with intense satisfaction.  Bridget loved her role and while their private play was so satisfying, she looked forward to their forays into various forms of public play.  Public Play involved exposing part of her BDSM life to the vanilla world.  Bridget always found it surprising.  She couldn’t believe the naughty sense of excitement she felt when she was exposed.  Was it humiliation, she wasn’t sure but it was very kinky indeed. She applied the bright red lipstick.  She loved the color and loved that her Master had told her he loved bright paint on her lips.  He said she was so attractive and luscious and he wanted her lips prominently displayed for him.  Next her fragrance, chosen because it was both understated and exotic.  At last she pulled on the long white gloves that came up to her elbows. Bridget and Master had discussed how she’d wear the long white gloves and he’d hogtie her and use his ball gag.  The picture in her mind of the helpless position always made her wet and horny.  Master had done this before.  Usually he rubbed a rabbit fur all over her body before he pulled her hair and squeezed her tit while he told her how he felt, what he wanted, and what he’d do with her next. As she turned toward the house she found the garage door open and as she had been instructed, she entered the garage and went to the back door leading into Master’s Rec room.  The lighting was subdued but she saw two large shapes draped in thin cloth.  She knew these were their BDSM toys.  Master had built a large cage for her amusement and a sturdy St Andrews cross that would fulfill her desire to be suspended and held helpless. Master had promised to cuff and chain her to the cross.  She knew she’d be naked and looked forward to the way master slipped a gag into her mouth before he applied something to her ass. Usually he forced a silicone bit gag into her mouth before he used his snake whip on her.  She could bite down on the bit and scream at the same time for the serious relief she craved.  Master had assured her she’d receive a serious whipping and perhaps caning that would leave some minor marks.  She wanted the marks.  She wanted to feel his touch afterward.  She wanted all of the things that ownership demanded. She knew Master had plans for an interesting combination Stocks and Spanking Bench.  Bridget had told Master she’d love to be placed in stocks and have her ass molested, pinched, bit, and butt plugged. She wondered if he’d make good on his promise to administer an enema while in the stocks.  Master had a lot of toys and equipment.  He had showed her the enema paraphernalia and it included an interesting flow meter that Master said was important to ensure reasonable flow and comfort.    Climbing the stairs she heard Master’s voice and it made her heart skip a beat.  She loved the way he spoke to her.  He didn’t speak at her rather he spoke with her, sharing his thoughts and sometimes emotions.  Master was sitting in a large black leather chair.  He was wearing his black suit with a black mandarin shirt and a nice red pocket square.  He leaned forward and motioned for her to come up.  He wondered about her trip and if the Ben Wa balls were still in place and how she liked them.  She told him about her journey and, yes, the Ben Wa twins were still in place and had directed her attention at the oddest of times, like stepping on the brakes. He asked her if she was ready, if she wanted to go through with their plans.  Did she really want all the things they had planned for, had discussed.  She knew what he was asking, giving her a graceful out.  Her mind was made up but his trust and care made her even more convinced that she wanted enslavement, wanted slavery, wanted to be an owned woman, Master’s property.  All of their discussions had led to this decision.  They both saw a Master/slave relationship as the purest and incidentally most fun form of a BDSM power exchange.  Both of their roles had been defined in term that made sense to both Bridget answered him by unbuckling her shoe clasps and removing her heels.  Pulling the ribbon from her hair she let it fall loose about her shoulders.  Bridget smiled at her Master and began removing all her clothing.  Finally she stood before her Master totally naked.  Master seemed very pleased. He rose and ran his fingers gently all over Bridget.  Master believed that a Gorean Master took great pride in his Kajira, his slave and should be familiar with every inch of her. Bridget knew that her actually collaring demanded that she be naked. She knelt gracefully before him, raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists.  Bridget had assumed the Kolar or collar position of a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  She knew the message she was sending was that she was ready to be bound and collared.  Naturally she looked down and waited for Master.  The decision was not only made but by showing her acceptance of their planned bond to her Master she knew it was done.  How happy, how fulfilled.  She almost wanted to cry the emotions were so strong. Her life as a Kajira, a Gorean slave was about to begin.  See accepted that she must always be pleasing and offer perfect obedience. Master formally asked her why she was before him and what were her deepest desires for enslavement.  She continued to look down and at first her voice was a whisper but as she gained confidence she became secure and spoke with a clear steady voice.  She asked to be enslaved.  She pledged to serve Master in all ways.  She would be pleasing at all times with perfect obedience.  She would be the owned possession of Master, subject to his commands, dressing as he directed.  She spoke the words of enslavement, “bind me master”. She spoke the timeless pledge saying she wished to be enslaved and then crossing her wrists in front of her asked that Master bind her.  She felt the ceremonial tying of her wrists with the traditional Gorean yellow bindings.  Master then said he would complete the ceremony, their enslavement ritual, by collaring her.  She felt the collar begin to encircle her throat.  She gasped as he pulled her hair back so he could buckle the collar.  Her formal slave collar was polished metal and had a screw driven locking mechanism.  It would be difficult or next to impossible to remove, not that Bridget would ever think about removing the symbol that encircled her throat.  Master completed fastening her collar.  He took her chin in his hand and remarked on her beauty and suitability to be his Kajira. Master removed the bindings from her wrists and ordered her to stand and had her turn around slowly to display herself. She looked at herself and saw the beautiful collar.  All she could say was “La Kajira, La Kajira”, Gorean for I am a slave. Bridget now understood in a most intimate way that her master treasured her and wanted to enjoy his treasure.  Master had two more things to complete the ritual and the first had Bridget very nervous.  Bridget knew she was to be branded.  Thankfully the branding didn’t call for a real white hot branding iron.  Bridget received a henna dye print representation of the Gorean Kef, a very delicate elaborately beautiful “K”, leaving a sharp red image high on her left thigh.  Next Master spoke her new slave name. When Bridget and Master were together in their new roles, she would be “Sefa”.  Master explained that her new slave name was pronounced SEHF-ah and meant pleasure.  He said she was named that way to remind her how she must always be his pleasure slave.  She didn’t think that would ever be a problem. It was done. Bridget had been collared, branded, and named.   Master said he accepted her as his Kajira.  Master directed her to put on her garter, stockings, panties, and heels.  He snapped a leash onto her collar ring and said “bracelets”.  Bridget immediately put her wrists behind her back, slightly bowed her head, and turned around to receive Master’s manacles. Using the leash and her bound wrists he moved her forward.  Master led her around a bit and then out around the deck. Master often told her that bondage made a woman more beautiful and that served to make her move in a sensuous, elegant manner.  Bridget agreed and could think of nothing better than to be on her knees with her Master’s cock in her mouth. He took her over to a chair by the deck table.  He motioned for her to kneel.  He unclipped the leash and attached a short piece of chain to her collar.  The chain was connected to a d-ring embedded in one of the large deck posts.  Bridget was chained to a post with her wrists bound.  Never before had she felt so at peace.  She was owned.  She had been confined on her Master’s deck.  She felt the chain on her chest.  Bridget’s excitement was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation.  She was on her knees dressed like a tarty slut, out in the open for all the world to see.  She realized that Master was exhibiting her as his prize possession.  Of course she thought, it’s highly unlikely we’ll be disturbed.  We’re out in the woods on a secluded property with foliage all around.  Master laughed and said UPS or FEDEX might show up. Bridget’s life as a slave had begun.  She wished and waited for what was next.  Master said she was to be caged in his slave pen after they had discussed their enslavement ritual.  Master took a plate of fruit and picked up a small piece of melon.  He held it out for her to nibble. She daintily nibbled the fruit.  She was being fed by Master’s hand.  She felt a deep bond and happiness.  Next Master poured some of his cool drink into a small bowel.  He placed it before her and motioned for her to drink.  He was watering his slave, caring for his prize possession.  She knelt before the bowel and lapped at the drink. She felt so humiliated to be made to drink in this fashion but it also was so deliciously kinky.   Her journey had begun.  Life would never be the same.  A calmness, a fullness, a richness had descended on her soul.  Master caressed her cheek and breasts and then checked the manacles.  He also adjusted her collar.  Bridget knew master would always make sure she looked her best.  She was his prize possession. Master leaned back and took a small velvet sack from the side table.  “Nadu” Master commanded and Bridget went into the slave position that had her kneeling with her wrists behind her back. Bridget was fascinated  She knelt with her thighs spread wide, back arched, wrists crossed behind her back.  Master produced a bright red ball gag and told her to open her mouth. Bridget felt the ball pressed tightly into her mouth as Master firmly buckled the gag in place.  She found her hands bound behind her back, and the ball gag reduced her to small whimpers to communicate.  She knew she was vulnerable and totally in the control of her master.  It was delicious.  It made her wet just to think of all the things he would do with her.  The bracelets were gleaming metal and had a short length of chain between them so they were relatively comfortable. Master helped Bridget to stand.  He pulled her panties down to her ankles and helped her bend over. He guided her to lay across his lap and began to stroke and kneed her ass cheeks.  Master remarked that she had a pleasingly plump ass that just begged to be spanked.  Bridget felt her Master applying some kind of oil on her ass cheeks.  She wiggled across his lap into a more comfortable position. It made her feel exposed, controlled, at her Master’s mercy.  Bridget couldn’t believe how excited she felt, how she wanted more, more attention, more control. Master told Bridget that he wanted to assert his ownership, make sure she knew she was his property.  Bridget whimpered her assent. She wanted to be his,begged her master to have her, to make her his own, anyway he wanted.  Just do it now. Master began a slow rhythmic paddling of Bridget’s ass.  Slowly at first but soon faster and harder.  Bridget moaned and gasped. Master paused and asked Bridget if she was his, his property. Bridget thought “yes, yes, yes, have me, have all of me.  I am your Kajira and want to be nothing else”.  Master held up one finger which was the signal for silence Bridget was surprised that Master had shut her up, to be quiet.  She understood that he wanted to be in control.  He told her he felt so completed by their rituals.   Master loved the idea that they had built their own kinky world and Bridget loved the way he ruled it. He could silence her with a command or perhaps a gag.  She loved the delicious excitement when he placed a nice red silicone ball gag in her mouth.  Naturally Master could silence her by imposing speech restrictions and she always complied but the ball gag was so hot. Master reached behind her to the small table by his large leather chair.  Bridget felt his movement and turned her head.  “Oh my” she thought as Master’s hand held the red ball gag, a shiny bright metal butt plug, and a tube of lubrication.  Her heart beat faster as she realized she was in for another anal training session.  

Not interested in one liners -  Tell me who you are in your everyday life — not just online. If you’re too busy for effort, don’t bother. I’m not here for convenience or endless texting. I’m seeking something real, intentional, and in real life. And the fact that you’re on this site tells me you already understand the balance between kink and vanilla — and that kind of self-awareness matters to me.

“What do you mean, you can’t make yourself cum?”  He looked at her, incredulously, watching her stroke her pussy.  “I’ve watched you cum dozens of times.”   “No,” she started, her voice breathy.  “I just can’t do it…”  She closed her eyes, not wanting to say it.  “… I just can’t do it with my fingers.”  She shuddered, right on the edge of orgasm.  She knew she wouldn’t be able to push herself over, not like this.  “I need… I need a vibrator, or your tongue, or your cock…” She trailed off as she began to rub herself again, blushing.   “How does a grown woman not know how to bring herself off?” He sounded bemused, in that teasing tone that made her weak.    “Hey, I like my vibrator,” she said with as much indignation as she could muster.  Under the circumstances, it wasn’t much.  She was so close, so frustratingly close.   He laid down beside her and covered her working hand with his own.  He moved her fingers in small circles, gently, so their hands maneuvered in tandum.  “You really can’t?” he asked against her ear.  “What if I help?  Is that better? “   She nodded.   Their circles on her pussy became softer, slower.  “Helpless little doll, can’t cum on her own,” he teased.     She moaned.  “Please…”   “Please what, fuckdoll?  What do you want me to do with this newest juicy little tidbit, hmm?”  He lifted their hands away from her swollen cunt. “Let’s see.  I could make you learn.  Make you learn how to please yourself, without…” He seemed to consider his next words.  “…Any crutches.”  He lowered their hands and resumed the gentle circles.  “I’m sure it wouldn’t take longer than a month or so.”   “NO, PLEASE.”  HER BREATH WAS RAGGED NOW.   “No?  Think it would take longer than that?”  He increased the pressure of their fingers, wringing a g from her lips.  “Me too, I’m afraid.  I know learning isn’t the easiest thing in the world for a dumb slut like you.”    “Fuck, please… Please I’m so close.  Please just… Do me.  Please!”   “Bet you’d really like your little toy right about now, huh, Dolly?”   If she could form a coherent thought, she might have felt nervous about where this conversation was headed.  She nodded, because that was the only response her body allowed her to give.  “Yes, please, Sir.”   “And what are you willing to do for me, to get it?”  His voice was dark now, anticipatory.   “Anything, please!  Just give it to me!”   His face brightened, that perfectly charming, sweet veneer masking all but the lust in his eyes.  “Excellent, darling.  I had hoped you might say something like that.  Now go fetch me the cane, and we’ll see how much you really want that vibrator.”

It's time for me to stand up and fight.  I changed my profile picture because I needed to, I had to.  As more time goes on, the more I see, the more our possible future scares me. This upcoming election, and heck up to next Jan 20th possibly, will possibly go down as one of the more important times in US history. And it scares me to the point that I'm being more political than ever before, to spread awareness, to educate.For myself, I've ALWAYS been independant.  I've always voted 3rd party.  I hate the 2 party system.  Every year I could.   Up to 2020, the first year I voted anything else. And again this year. In the future, when the threat has passed, I'll go back to it, but now is the time to stand up and fight.I'm a submissive/slave, and I'm not a passive one waiting for someone to provide orders.  But being a slave is my choice.  My freedom.  And I believe 100% in the freedom that everyone should have, to decide for them what is best for themselves.I believe in Science.  That experts in their fields know better than politicians, or really anyone else.I believe in equality.  It doesn't matter who you are, what you like, or what you do, we should all be equal.I believe in education. and in line with that:I believe in critical thinking. Children - everyone should learn, and should be able to learn, everything they can or want. And even more importantly they should learn that questions, and questioning is ok, to not believe everything that they read or hear and to actually use their brain to think for themselves.I believe in Books.  In line with education, nothing should be banned.I believe in morality. Both teaching it but also living it. Don't do as you are told, instead think for yourself and do as you feel is right. I believe religion is the most toxic thing that has ever been introduced to humanity, but:I also believe that people are and should be free to worship whoatever, whomever, and however they wish, with:I also believe that religion, thoughts, views, and desires should not be thrust upon anyone, as everyone should be free to make their own decisions, and shouldn't be pressured or manipulated into anything.With the above and more...   I believe that Donald Trump will destroy the US if elected again.I believe that project 2025 is real and that Trump is a part of it.I believe that many republicians are not bad people, in the end, but they believe the fake news, the lies, the fear-mongering and the manipulation they are being told, and do not have the skills, or experience, or education to use critical thinking to see through it all. I believe that I must help fight the hate, the lies, and stand up for what is right.I will speak with anyone about anything, if you wish to have a conversation, I'm open, however if you plan on voting for Donald Trump, it is a hard limit and expect nothing more than conversation.I will not be overly political here aside from this journal and the image, but sometimes a very little is all that is needed.I may or may not post other journals, but as of now I neither plan nor intend to, but as I said above, I'm going to stand up and speak for all, so that doesn't mean I won't.

Embracing my slumber, I feel as though I'm in a dream  The softness of your caress, has me feeling so serene I want to open my eyes to make sure you are real  I will not venture, because I don't want to interrupt what I feel  The moisture begins to flow as my body loses control  You have me at this point and I will never say no  Relaxation and anxiety are about to collide  Multi orgasmic pleasure, I will never hide  WOW!

Another day, another thought... It is a hot one in NYC - 92 degrees F/33 degrees C. Surely there needs to be some ice cream. As the owner savours hers under the shade of the umbrella on the lounge chair. The near naked pet dutifully eats its share from her feet. She is in a breezy tube top summer dress with tropical print. It is only wearing metal cuffs around its wrists and ankles, a collar that connaspects to a anal hook, and a cock cage with chains tethered to the owner's lounge chair. It is licking and sucking fast to make sure that not one bit of that ice cream runs off of the owner's white polished toes or small feet as the consequences of wasting the owner's kindness will be dire. Then... Wouldn't you like to know. ;-) 

What makes YOU stand out from the 9 million other dudes that message me? I am, admittedly, picky and a bit jaded at this point. I know what I want, and I'm not going to just settle for being a plaything again. I can get laid pretty much whenever I want. That really is not an issue. What I want at this point is a mental and emotional connection with someone who wants to be my Dominant.   How do you prove to me that you are that person? If you're not willing to do something simple like download a common messaging app after I've said that I don't use snapchat any more for personal reasons, then you're probably not the person for me.  Because honestly, how hard is it to download an app?  Is that really asking someone to "go the extra mile?" I don't think so.  What do you do to stand out in a crowd?   Maybe you're the one with a little more personality than the rest.  You're the one who knows the difference between to and too, and yes, I notice these things.  I may eventually give up the control to the Dom, but in reality, we know who has the power here, don't we guys? Let's be honest. If you can respect that, let's talk. 

Okayeeeeeeeeee Conducting interviews for live-in.  I don't have time or energy to spend on anything outside of finding the right fit for My home so please, unless you are applying to serve full or part time ASAP, pass Me by.  Let's get down to the nitty gritty... Rolling interviews conducted now and at My time of convenience.  Considerations will be made but I have a short fuse where lack of communication is concerned.  Seeking FLR, TPE 24/7/365 live in.   My search is two fold - for Myself and as an extension, for My mother. Regular service includes preparing meals, maintaining home, and personal care for all.  Full time care attendant for mother.  She is fully functional, simply unable to reason out sequential action and with cognitive impairment for decision making.  She cannot be left alone, loves music and dancing, educated,  a lady (with a fresh mind) and beautiful in her own right.  Specifically, I seek a person who would primarily be responsible for watching over and serving My mother so I may proceed with My own endeavors.  My mother will not be controlling you.  You will belong to Me. Once you make contact, be prepared to discuss your distance and how you intend on getting to Me, your current work requirements, all.  We move to phone interview, inperson interview and trial run.  It IS that simple.

This is just a quick PSA, I have filled out and returned my ballot, so you can stop all the TV ads and yard signs and news coverage now. Thank you.

On Needing to Disappear for a Minute I need to reset. I am saying that plainly and without the elegance I usually bring to these entries because I do not have the energy for elegance right now and this space has always been about honesty first. The job market is the worst I have navigated in my adult life and I have the specific evidence to prove it. Three interviews. Three. Each one carrying the particular weight of hope that you cannot help but attach to something that feels like forward motion after so long standing still. The first position was eliminated and outsourced overseas before I made it to the final round. Not a reflection of my qualifications. Simply the mathematics of a company deciding that my expertise was purchasable more cheaply somewhere else. I understand how that works and understanding it does not make it feel less like a door closing in my face. The second went to an internal candidate, which is the corporate equivalent of being told the position was never really available to you, that the search was a formality, that you dressed up and prepared and showed up and performed well for an audience that had already made its decision before you walked in. I gave that interview everything. I always give everything. That is both my greatest quality and, in moments like this one, my greatest vulnerability. The third was a scam. I do not have more words for that because the anger I feel about it is still too hot to be articulate. Someone manufactured an opportunity specifically to waste the time and energy of people who are already desperate and running low on both. I was one of those people. I am still furious. I cannot find work. I am saying that without softening it because softening it would be a lie and I am too tired for lies. I have been searching with the focused intensity I bring to everything and the market is returning silence and rejection and the specific cruelty of the scam dressed as opportunity. I am scared in a way I do not often admit to being scared because fear has never served me particularly well and I have always moved through it rather than sitting in it. Right now I am sitting in it. I am tired and I am angry and underneath both of those things I am frightened about what comes next. And Chicago. The possibility of leaving Chicago sits on me like something I cannot put down. I have fought for this city. I have stayed for my children, for the roots I have grown here across years of building a life in neighborhoods that became part of my identity. Pilsen and South Shore and Bronzeville, the specific texture of this city that I carry in my body. The idea of leaving it does not feel like a fresh start. It feels like one more thing this season is taking from me, and this season has already taken considerably more than its share. I need to go somewhere. Briefly, urgently, in the way that a person needs air when the room has become too small. Not a vacation, I do not have the resources for a vacation, but a change of coordinates. A different sky. The particular reset that only physical distance from your own life can produce, where you sit somewhere unfamiliar and your problems remain your problems but they lose, temporarily, the specific weight of being inescapable. I have been having dark thoughts, and I am telling you that because this space has always held the full truth and the full truth is that a season this relentless starts to bend the mind toward conclusions it would not otherwise reach. I am not in danger. I know myself well enough to know the difference between despair and crisis. But the despair has been real and it has been sustained and I am not going to dress it up as something more manageable than it actually is. What I know is this: I am still here. Still building, even when the building looks like sitting still. Still the woman I have always been, even when that woman is exhausted and frightened and grieving a city she has not yet left. I need the reset. I need the road or the train or even just a weekend somewhere that is not inside my own four walls. I need to remember that I am larger than this moment even when this moment feels total. I will be back. I always come back.   But first I need to breathe somewhere new.

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

no blood clot. But lots of inflammation in my lungs. I've been sleeping a lot, taking meds for this illness. I'm starting to feel a little better, but I'm still so damn tired. Pneumonia isn't anything to mess around with. I spent a week thinking my allergies were getting worse, but now I think it was a sinus infection that went to my chest and yeah. I hate being sick, it always hits me hard. This is the second time I've had pneumonia this year. I'm glad I'm starting to feel better, but it sure does suck being immunocompromised.  Sir and I are working things out. He came to see me and now I have beautiful bruises in several areas. I know he's still mad at me, but I wear his marks with pride, because it means I served him, his pleasure, his desires. Now I must get better so I can continue serving him. So, that's the goal, recovering. I'm still on an antibiotic and see my doctor when I've finished it. So we will see what happens from there. 

Love and War:   In the realm of love and passionate strife, Two fierce hearts clashed in the dance of life. Khan, with eyes like burning fire, Choke, with grace that none could tire.   Their love was a tempest, wild and untamed, Yet each sought dominance, their pride unashamed. In the moon's soft glow, they met on the field, Their destinies entwined, their fates sealed.   Khan, with sword held high, proclaimed his might, Choke, with eyes ablaze, prepared for the fight. Their words were like thunder, their gazes like steel, As they battled for love, with an unyielding zeal.   With each strike and parry, the earth trembled below, As Khan and Choke fought, in a passionate, fiery flow. Their love and their fury, intertwined as one, Their souls locked in battle, 'til the rise of the sun.   But in the end, as dust settled and hearts slowed, They realized that love was the only code. For in their struggle for dominance and control, They found that love's power made them whole.   So Khan and Choke, in an embrace sublime, Set aside their battle, and the passage of time. For in love's embrace, they found their true rest, As two souls entwined, and their hearts truly blessed.