Thank you for reading And thank you for your time I promise not to waste yours I tend to value mine Poetry’s enticing Prose can add a spark Pretty sets of words betray what's in their author’s heart Art is also obfuscated fleeting and opaque Maybe not the ideal way to tell of what I'm made Doubtless you'll have questions those who enjoy this jest Feel free to message me and get them off your chest Keep in mind that I don't know you and that you don't yet own me We owe one another mutual courtesy  

Catfishing is just catfishing plain and simple. If you put up younger images of yourself and then you scroll to the end and see the fit goth is now santa claus your emotions are a little defeated by the fact that the person you were sexually attracted to was the middle of the three stages of man but now looks like the last stage. Frustrating. I have updated my profile several times and I have not noticed a hidious delay in approval but I can't speak for others and their tech issues. When I exchange my images with other hopeful kinksters I am pretty sure I would get an ear full if the images I was sending was 10 to 15 years out of date.  I even make a point the image was taken a week ago.  The oldest image I have exchange was a month old. Just because your a man does not give you privileges to play the catfishing game. Luckily only had a brief discussion and did not hook up for drinks or I would have ordered the rum to process the catfish experience.

I have been a Dom since the 90's. I have had subs, slaves, babygirls, boitoys, ts sluts. I have spent time carving initials in peoples backs, slicing their skin with exacto knives, whipping marks on their backs, legs and ass, crop marking them and making them orgasm from the pain. I have led an interesting life. And I want more. I am not dead, I am 51 with the urge to please and provide pain for the sake of release. I am willing to remain loyal and kind in this process. Often when one reads my profile they think he will be too soft for me, or too sadistic. I promise I am a great mix of many things. The experience I have under and on my belt has made me conscious of who I am and how I should be with subs and slaves. It has also taught me that I need certain kinds of people in my life, in my heart, in my soul. And I see some of you and I think, these people might work, and then the chemistry isnt there or I am simply not attracted to them. I appreciate all the men reaching out to me like the horny bitches they arem but unless you are 100 percent fem, have a pretty face, and dress all the time, Im not jumping. As for the ladies, well, I have likes and dislikes. It may seem shallow but I have types that get me hard, and types that make my knees weak, and types I wish I could avoid. We all do dont we? When it comes to love, I am loyal to a fault, and I am brutally honest. I hope someone sees this out there and thinks maybe I am his type and wants to reach out. Maybe.  Master K

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

I love face sitting... there's that first initial gasp when suddenly someone's tongue makes contact with you. it's a little cold at first, in a wet and exciting way. kind of like putting something minty on your skin. tongues, used well, are much more refined instruments than fingers. they can either cover more surface area or become pointed and extremely localized. this is how I prefer to start -- go extremely slow, hover between your legs so you can feel me breathing and maybe I kiss your thighs, ( more than likely since I turned on by tuning in). Very occasionally I flick my tongue over your vulva and you will yelp. I myself like it if at first I left your clit alone -- she's too sensitive for immediate onslaught and I want to pleasure you, play around for a while. This part feels crazy amazing; if your aroused you're already feeling a throbbing inside you but every time I suddenly lick you it's like all that interior feeling leaps to the surface and is crystalized in a bolt of warm juicy lightning. The best part of this early stage is that you don't know what's going to happen next. I try and surprise you. take a long pause, give you one lick, pause again, then three short licks in succession. You are all tensed up at this point, completely focused on the next moment my tongue will make contact, and feeling the desire to spread your thighs far apart to make room for all the need I am building up in you. I am now completely a part of your being, I have become one with you. Then I really get down to business, as while I love the teasing stage because for me it is my only chance to worship your body, I know you can't take it for too long. (I'll know because you'll make some frustrated vocal noises and be arching your pelvis towards me.) here is where I start exploring ""in the groove,"" as I call it, try long slow licking motions that start at your vaginal opening and go all the way up to, but don't QUITE make contact with your clit. then vary the length of the lick, the speed, and the shape of my tongue -- try pointy, then big and wide. In this stage your body relaxes; it's sort of like getting the most hyperbolically good massage of your life, and you can't believe how awesome it feels so you just sort of melt into it. Then I start working your clit and this is where you go bonkers. I try licking up to it -- stroke my tongue repeatedly from about half an inch below it right up onto it. Your vaginal walls are tensing like crazy at this point, and you are rotating your pelvis towards me because you can barely stand it but need more. Don't even have the words for this part -- I know it feels absurdly wet and sparkly for you, though the sensation is still happening on the surface at this point. If I'm doing my job well, at some point during this stage you will start to feel a strong, bodily premonition: you are going to cum. I visualize this shift as a change in WHERE the sensation is coming from: while before it was all in the little external sphere of the clit itself, at this point the clitoris's roots well inside have suddenly gone warm and tense. ( I have looked this up,---- the clit is misunderstood, it isn't just a little button but a really large interior structure.) they are grabbing all the muscles in your pelvis and squeezing. You begin to feel intentionality at this point: before you were just enjoying how absurdly good this feels, but now you are on a mission. You are going to orgasm your brains out. (for me), coming strongly involves your pelvic muscles, so I'll notice where you're at because I'll feel you contracting over me. You are probably also shifting your legs around at this point. Now, I can keep you on the verge for a long long time -- but whatever I do, I won't return to the teasing stage at this point. I'll focus on the groove as a path to your clit. when I do something in particular that increases that ""I am going to cum"" sensation in you, that's when you're most likely to exclaim ""YES"" or ""FUCK"" or ""OH MY"" or just ""WHARBARBALFGBLE."" And I keep doing that thing. There will come a point where everything in your body knows that you are going to cum IMMEDIATELY if the right sensations keep happening. As for me, this is the only time when I should focus entirely on your clit. I will know because you are clenching everything in your body. everything I do on the surface is sending warm, contracting depth charges of pleasure into your pelvis. You lose your ability to feel really subtle sensations at this point: I pick a repetitive motion and DIG IN. I might have to try a few different ones but I will find one that works. The part just before you actually cum is the best fucking part for me, oh Jesus. You are on a giant cliff-edge of more pleasure than you thought was possible and suddenly, all those clenched muscles relax for just a few seconds, everything is silence and slow motion and you feel a big, round, room filling sensation of OH ! MY! GOSH! Then you begin the orgasm and everything clenches back up, you are falling down the cliff and your vaginal walls are contracting so fast and furiously, and the sensation is one of pulsing nuclear bursts of intensity that you almost can't stand. It is probably hard to keep my tongue on you ( and in you )at this point, you are thrashing around, and my head is being squished so hard I am now in pain, but I won't stop, I promise. You need to get every possible pulse out of you, when you have, you will probably shiver and moan, and that's when you'll be able to relax again and feel a huge gentle wave of pleasure out to your fingers and toes. high five! good job! We did it, and I feel closer than ever to you, because I have brought pleasure to you

  11/07/2024  Take Notice  I will be unavailable until further notice.  The noted positions have not been filled ...  For those that meet preferences and follow direction     I may or may not be checking in periodically.   

wheres the pain Where the pain i need to strive in this world i need pain to feel alive the marks arent there wheres the pain the pain that takes me to cloud 9 here we are no pain no marks am i still breathing am i where i need to be begging for pain this is all confusing why do i strive on pain how did i end up this way Master i feel like breaking down i need the pain i need the guidance you give me your hand around my throat the pain you inflict upon your property where is the pain cause this causing withdrawals i need the pain i need you i am nothing without you where oh where is the pain i want to feel the heat from each stroke of your toys Master what is wrong with me

The grass is greener on the other side. Met someone normal from this site. Both very busy working professionals but seem to be orbiting which is not a bad thing just waiting to align a little. Meeting someone normal makes you look at this site a little differently. Your not dissappointed by the odd time waster because your time has no longer been wasted. Your hopeful about a possible relationship now being closer to one that might have some sort of functionality in a modern busy working professionals relationship. Makes you not want to advertise your vexes with the site but merely observe and let not affect you anymore.   - The grass is greener on the other side.

52M Dom/Daddy london uk, Seeks *relocatable* live-in 18-25 any cis girl must willing to Anal Training and prolapse   I am a master/DD would say that I am not a loser, or dying for pussy (maybe for a real sub and her Back door=butt=asshole=Anal Training for younger female) who is not shy and daring enough to have her butt prolapse,I am not crazy or dangerous etc, but a person, pleasant, appearance, polite (more or less)and I like to dominate, I am willing to Anal Training for younger= one cis girl willing to be mine anal slut, must not be committed (with other cocks=which mean if you think you are naughty you are probably ...), who wants to discover and cultivate with me(no others) the pleasure her submission and live as a proper 1950s girl.all with honesty and pleasure for both, keeping in mind that is not a game)she must into a beautiful and intense time ..of course after care and use of the safeword is paramount in a long term relationship (even short but again 'no take away') ,if interested could write me on telegram analmandingo or PM ,NO 4 SEX CHAT OR if u want MONEY find a pig NOT ME!. I am only interested in sub/slave want to be own by me only for monogamous LTR ( or is full of wanna be dom and domme if you are looking for sex go to them as probably you rubbish like them so shite go with shite ). U must be in London uk 🇬🇧 , no cyber no fake !   Basic tasks for the girl what to be my slave 1_ you must be naked or basic dressed you will be touched regularly by me I love to have my hands all over you 2) you must suck a minimum of 2hrs per day my cock .3. you will get spanked or whips minimum 30 shots per day as to remind you, you are mine .4. you will be rape play daily as ATM mouth fuck .5. you must rim me regularly after u cum it relax me .6, you need to wear a plug Or plug tail Or the hook posture ,7.piss whore you will get my golden rain in or on your face ,8, you must wear a collar as show of respect to me.and you will be training to wear a plug daily t! .9. do what I said or get punish the way i want or like . listen to what I need and make sure I get it from you 10. You will sign a contract to show me you understand   Snapchat DomPadrone telegram analmandingo not for sex chat   i do not fit in. never did.never wanted to , I do not mix with sh*t.

Something I just wrote to someone on here which I think is a valid statement from me: I mean I'm not on here just for sex. I'm a sapiosexual above anything and to even interest me you have to engage me on a mental level. To expound on that, I'm also here to expose myself to people and concepts of sexuality and expression that are new to me. As I've explored further, by reading, connecting with people and experience I find that I've become a more sex positive person in general. I've been accepting new and bizarre things that perhaps turn me on and celebrating them instead of shaming them away. I am becoming more comfortable as a sexual creature as I follow my curiosity. I am also honing my communication skills. I love the emphasis the BDSM community has on talking about limits and consent and making sure people feel heard and valued. It's a value set we would do well to enact in our everyday vanilla efforts to communicate. These are just some musings I suppose.

I am an experienced master with many years in the lifestyle. I have led a poly house in the past and i have had several slaves. What i seek now is both ambitious and challenging.  For me as well as for you. I wish to build the family I no longer have. I desire to build it around the BDSM lifestyle that I have chosen to live.  I have a small ranch in west Texas. It is a labor of love and endurance. I seek those that desire to part of something larger than themselves. Greater than any one person, even myself.  While at the same time meeting the needs of Master/slave relationships.  It can be both long or short term engagements. Although I prefer long term and those that would desire to wear my brand. Gender and orientation is immaterial. I desire slaves, males and females for manual labor and maintenance. I seek domestic service slaves for care and upkeep of the households. I seek service slaves for the care and upkeep of the workers. I desire business minded professionals to develop the ranch to be profitable, and working slaves (even if outside the ranch) to contribute to that profitability and sustainability. Singles and couples, a place can be found for you. Whether a short term, learning and training opportunity or forever home. Abilities and skills determined. Used and useful. This is not about free labor, free sex or free anything. It is having a place, a home, acceptance and being needed. The brand is not something you earn. It is something that is to be lived up to every day. It is second chances. It is defiance of norms. It is surviving the coming storms.  Chains and cages? Of course! Not just physical ones, but on your mind and heart as well. Whips and canes? Lol. Try me and find out.  All i ask is that you look inside yourself. It is not about whether you think you are worthy or capable. You do not get to make that determination. That is always for others to determine.  Even as a Master has to prove they are capable of leading and being looked up to, worthy of submission, obedience and reverence.  I would love your feed back and constructive criticism is welcome.  Help me determine what this should look like to be successful and sustainable. 

A lot of people don't realize who they are. Like my neighbor, who says she doesn't want to gossip, I suspect because it's frowned upon, and yet can't wait to get juicy details that are none of her business. She sticks her nose in where it isn't needed all over the damn place. I don't think she realizes how much she thrives on it. She definitely doesn't use it to her advantage in a field where it could be useful.  Or my pain in the ass direct boss, who loves authority, who has to be right, who treats women as slightly to moderately inferior depending on the situation. He's insensitive. He's loud. And he doesn't seem to give one single shit what anybody thinks. This man has no idea that people don't want to deal with him, men or women. That at least a handful of good people have left because of him.  I think a lot about who I am and how it is portrayed. What sometimes comes out instead and if that's me or reactionary. Then again, most of my life has been reactionary, so maybe I don't even know who the real me is. I'm learning. I made the decision to switch careers and I am giving myself a year to do it. Research, learn, prep, etc. And just like that, I care a whole lot less about my boss because now he's temporary.  It's another moment where my life is on hold, but it isn't. This time I'm like a duck swimming; serene above water, paddling like crazy below. I think I'm moving in the right direction in figuring out who I am and where I want to be. It begins. 

What I truly seek....I seek 24/7 submission on a psychological level and physical submission at my Mistresses whim.  I do understand that is something that is built gradually over time in a relationship, once trust has been established. I’m drawn primarily to a loving and nurturing style of Domination. I enjoy pleasing and making my partners life easier.   I am not a masochist… I don’t seek pain for the sake of pain alone, but I do understand its value toward discipline and training. Otherwise I will trust that my well being will always be a priority.   I am very sensual and enjoy many kinds of play. I also understand that play is NOT the foundation of a strong D/s relationship. That comes through the strength of the power exchange that both people desire.  I admit I tend to be very private. I do not engage in groups or public play, and I prefer a completely vanilla exterior. I’m not into being cucked or treated like a slave. Nor do I seek to be a part of a stable of subs. My submission, attentions and adoration should be considered of value to the one I serve. I am after all, a man who is truly a pleaser.... someone who derives much of his own fulfillment from pleasing his Domme, and from giving over control to her. I am not interested in being some kind of mindless slave kept in a cage… but rather someone who is a person in his own right. I do have a quick mind and a sense of humor, and I don’t want to be afraid to use them at the appropriate times. I am looking for someone who will help me flourish under Her guidance and help me become the best version of me.   I would hope to become a best friend, a lover, a houseboy, Her personal servant, Her sensual slave and more.   Ideally, I would like to be with someone who is nearer to my age, intelligent, independent and knows what she wants from a D/s relationship. I am not looking for casual interactions, or for mere play sessions, but rather for my lifemate, with whom I hope to explore the ins and outs of Ds as well as the vanilla world for the rest of our lives... If most of this resonates then by all means reach out to me and let’s have a dialogue.   

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.  

Supress Woman - Cosmic Supress woman, keep them down. We can't afford to have them sniffing round. We shant afford them educated to who we are. We darnt feel we can live up to their par. Work all day, buy expensive toys. Who cares if we do 'play' with the boys? No judgements here cause girls are too critical. Can't have the exacting or the cynical. Thank God for porn, it is our right. Otherwise we would fight fight fight.   Too bad they don't know that power makes us strong, giving way to our libido over long. Keep us in societal shackles. Cause ya'll to fearful of the woman's cackle. What submissive man has learned, is sex by Woman is to be earned. We have it all, yet much is waste. That most man is scared and cannot embrace. What's to lose, which is not already lost? Might as well be the coin toss, as many of you mother fuckers just picked an unconscionable boss.    

August 7, 2024 – Cock Hungry Slut gets his CHERRY POPPED TODAY !   I'm changing the name of one of the guys who have been hanging around for quite some time.   The first met him when he was single. He loved having toys shoved up his ass. But that was our limit. But he was young and hot and I definitely enjoyed playing with his ass.  It was common occurrence to have him hop up into the sling and shove all manner of things in his hole to stretch him.   Then he disappeared for a while. It turned out he got married. And after a while he made the decision he wanted to play again, so we did.   Now, he has outed himself to his new wife and they have opened the relationship and she has turned him into a cuckold. He tells me he's looking forward to sucking a guy's cock after that cock has fucked his wife. Or maybe eat some guys cum out of her snatch when some random guy is done using his wife. And eventually, maybe have someone fuck him while he's eating his wife out.   But he has to start somewhere. And that somewhere was losing his virginity with me today. I get to pop his cherry today and leave my load inside him.         When he arrived I was already naked sitting in my chair with a hard on. I told him to strip and get on his knees and suck my cock. As he stripped he was wearing a micro cock cage. It had a belt around his waist holding it up. It was one of the extremely small micro cages made of metal.   He had briefly sucked my cock once before a few months ago, but today was especially exciting knowing that cock was going to penetrate his ass today.   Oh my God he was good at sucking my cock. Maybe I was extra excited knowing I was going to fuck him for the first time and leave my load inside him. But while on his knees in front of my chair, I watched intently as my cock went in and out of his mouth.    I grabbed a handful of his hair, I grabbed it hard, and I forced him down on my cock. I just wanted to see how far I could push him both literally and figuratively. It appeared that he was willing to take any amount of abuse. But if he's going to be a cuckold, he needs to get used to being used.   He would choke occasionally and I would reassure him that was normal. That he would get used to a cock in his mouth. And eventually his wife would be having him suck on cocks much larger than mine, so he better get used to it.   After about 10 minutes of cock sucking we decided to clean his ass out. I led him to the bathroom and told him to get down on all fours.  I got the old fashioned rubber enema bag out of the closet and unscrewed the top. I let the tap water run until it was warm. I filled the red rubber enema bag almost completely full of water then screwed the tube back on the bag.   READ THE ENTIRE STORY AT www.SirKel.top  

I must be a masochist, because I can't seem to leave this site completely, even though I know how much it fucking sucks. It's like we're all just trolling the bottom of the barrel of humanity here trying to find a dream partner that doesn't actually exist. And yet, here we all still are, day after fucking day...                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Newly edited: She couldn't believe the power of a word. She said just a word to him and ne obeyed. A few moments later he was on his knees. There he was, naked, kneeling, muscles tensing, cock rock hard and throbbing. She told him to turn so she could get a look at his ass. Like a kid in a candy store, she enjoyed the view and felt the playfulness of having such power over a man. She told him to get on his hands and knees and arch his back. She loved the look of his ass up high, his balls hanging down, so vulnerable and knowing that he would literally do anything for her. To entertain her. To obey her. Just to be hers. She told him to kneel with his hands behind his back. His cock was twitching and beginning to drip. She made him squeeze out the first full drop of precum and ordered him to lick it up. "Yes Mistress" he said as his voice began to betray his almost panting excitement. She continued to toy with him, stroking and teasing him, slapping his cock, his balls, his ass, and she was getting more and more turned on herself. The pleasure of true power. The strength of a man under her command. I hope this never stops she thought...

The Meaning of a collar The collar is one of the firsts to come to mind when we think about leather in its simplest functional form. Yet whether a collar is fastened on ones own neck or seen adorned by another, it always evokes a deep response, but what is the cultural meaning behind the collar – and why does it get our hearts racing without fail?The collar has been a key piece in the process – as it easily transcends worlds without losing its radical potential. In fashion, the collar is an enduring symbol of pushing boundaries. It’s been part of the subcultural dress code since the early days of the punk movement. Collars served as a finishing touch to outfits already ridden with safety pins and chains – at times, in line with the community’s resourceful spirit, those were the actual sturdy dog collars from pet shops. Collars were a fitting accessory for self-proclaimed underdogs – and a nod to sexual subversiveness as a part of broader nonconformity. The collar has a deep significance in the BDSM and kink community as the ultimate symbol of power exchange. Worn around the neck, it signifies the submissive role or exploration of submissive desires. It is a foundation for collaring ceremonies (and since recently, self-collaring) which celebrate relationship dynamics and identities, a crucial asset for play, and a fun way to toy with these ideas maybe for a few hours at a party. Getting a collar for yourself or accepting a collar as a gift from someone else can be a sincere gesture of romantic connection – or simply an act of self-love and being open to new types of experiences. When the buckle closes around your neck – that sweet tight pull and release – the collar stops being an and becomes an invitation to explore a different mindset or role, play with the energy it brings you and see where it takes you. Whether combined with clothes or on its own, wearing a collar can be intriguing, arousing, moving, comforting or even thrilling. A perfect collar combines the visual ect of form and functio, with texture, sturdiness, and the quality of materials from which it is crafted. Wearing a collar is an embodied experience rooted in psychology and sensation. Our necks are sensitive and vulnerable, a precious vessel for nerves and arteries, a place that holds erotic tension. A collar is a reminder of human fragility, connection, commitment, and the courage to show up as your authentic self.    

The Emotional Labor of Being the Dominant Partner One of the stranger assumptions about Dominance is that the Dominant somehow gets the easy side of the arrangement. After all, the Dominant is the one giving the orders. They establish rules. They make decisions. They decide when a scene begins, what happens during it, and when it ends. From the outside, that can look like a relationship built around getting exactly what you want while someone else does what you tell them. Anyone who has carried real responsibility within a long-term D/s relationship knows how incomplete that picture is. Dominance can be incredibly rewarding. There is satisfaction in leadership, structure, service, authority, ritual, discipline, mentorship, and the intimacy that comes from being trusted with someone's submission. But authority also creates work. Not simply physical work. Not merely planning scenes or remembering protocols. Emotional work. A responsible Dominant spends a considerable amount of time observing, evaluating, deciding, anticipating, communicating, adjusting, and sometimes carrying concerns that the submissive never realizes existed. Much of that labor is invisible. That does not make it insignificant. Authority Means You Have to Think Beyond What You Want One of the first lessons responsible Dominants eventually learn is that wanting something does not automatically mean doing it. That sounds obvious until desire, opportunity, and authority all line up at the same time. You want the scene. Your submissive wants the scene. Everyone consented to the activities. The toys are available. The evening is free. And you still may need to decide that tonight is not the night. Perhaps your submissive is exhausted. Perhaps they have barely eaten. Perhaps they have had an emotionally brutal day and are insisting they are fine because they do not want to disappoint you. Perhaps you notice they are answering questions differently than usual. Perhaps you are exhausted. Maybe you are irritated from something completely unrelated and recognize that you are not in the right emotional state to administer punishment or participate in intense play. That is where authority becomes more complicated than desire. A responsible Dominant cannot evaluate a situation solely through the question: Do I want this? The more important question is: Is this appropriate right now? Sometimes the answer is yes. Sometimes the answer is absolutely not. Sometimes the answer is, “Not tonight, but perhaps tomorrow.” That decision can disappoint both people. There are times when the submissive is genuinely frustrated by it. There may even be times when the Dominant wishes they could ignore their own better judgment. But leadership means accepting that your responsibility occasionally requires you to be the person who stops something everyone wants.   That is part of the emotional labor. Read the full post here:  https://www.tlduncan.com/post/emotional-labor

The last person I expected to see at my door was June,
my mother in law, or I should say ex mother in law. I'd been
feeling pretty down for the last month, devastated really,
after my wife, Emma, left me. I came one day to find a note waiting. In the note she told me that, although she was still fond
of me, she realizes now that we married too young. She also
went on to tell me she had met this guy at work, she worked
at a Mercedes Benz dealership, Some Greek guy apparently
from a wealthy family, and they had fallen instantly for
each other. She intended to move to Greece with him.
I tried to reach out to her, but she wouldn't answer my
calls.I went to her work and they told me she had quit. I even
called her mother and she confirmed that my wife had indeed
fucked off to Greece. So yes, it was a miserable month
So now my mother in law is at the door. I assumed she'd
just come to pick up some Emma's belongings, but.
she told me she'd just popped in to see how I was coping.
I'd never really got on with her. In the past, I found her
to be very standoffish and old fashioned.
She was in her mid 50's around 5'9" and I believe the
term is rubenesque. She had long hair that always seems to be up in a bun. Her hair
was black with little flecks of gray which actually made
it quite attractive. She always dressed very smart and
usually in a business type suit, smart shoes with small
heels.
After a little hesitation, I noticed she wasn't dressed
in her usual manner. Instead of a suit she was wearing a summer
dress and slightly higher heels, she had a large designer
bag hanging from her shoulder.. I invited her in and once
over the threshold she gave me the biggest of hugs. It felt
a little uncomfortable as I felt her ample breast push into
my chest.
 I offered her a coffee and I invited her to take a seat in the
lounge, but instead she chose to stay and chat with me in
the kitchen. She was telling me how sorry she was, and that
she didn't see it coming, she was as surprised as me. Once
the coffee was made we moved to the lounge. Our lounge was
set up with a large leather Chesterfield sofa and a smaller
Chesterfield loveseat. I chose to sit on the love seat and
expected June to sit on the sofa, but instead she chose to
sit next to me, putting her bag on the floor by her feet..


It's been a quiet couple of months. P had surgery a few months ago and recovery has been slow. That said, I've traveled a few times, especially around the holidays, and that led to some intense fantasies about being captured or coerced away from home. It's absolutely fun to be tied up at home, but it's also fun to think about being snagged from a parking lot with just the most basic ties. Like zipties around my wrists and ankles, a cloth gag secured with tape, my own scarf as a blindfold so I have no idea where I'm being taken. Fighting to get to my cell phone and just as my fumbling fingers manage to pull it out of my bag, the car stops and I'm hauled away to my fate. Maybe my captor sees my phone, forces me to unlock it with my fingertips, and then uses it to document my punishment for trying to escape. Culminating with a photo sent to my husband of my well-used and creampied pussy, with my legs held up to help me conceive. I know the studies are inconclusive but ever since I saw the movie Election, I've been obsessed with the idea of my legs being held back, willingly or otherwise, after a man has cum in me. Or maybe just Matthew Broderick.   A few men have offered to "rescue" me from a life of being knocked up by a Trump supporter. And I have to admit, a lot of the allure was lost for me after the election, and even more after he took office, and even more after unelected gooner Elon Musk started running the government. Maybe I could be a mail order American bride for someone in Australia or Canada. I have no idea how immigration law works in general and especially not for other countries. Maybe someone tricks me and offers to let me stay with them for a few months in a new country, no strings attached. But once I arrive in my new home, I see the guest bedroom has just a mattress with rope laid out on it. I turn to leave and see my benefactor holding my passport and cell phone. He tells me if I want to stay, I better strip down like a good girl, put a ball gag in my mouth, and handcuff myself. Spending the next few months with my legs wrapped around a stranger, hoping other countries allow anchor babies. Trading one form of servitude for another.   What can I say, the body wants what the body wants.

THE NIGHT I MET BRIAN, part 2 He hesitated. I wasn't sure why. Then he said, "But not here. Not on this concrete floor. Not like this. We can't do it upstairs either because this is a friend's house."I caught on quickly. "We could go to my place."He never did fuck me that night. His cock was too big for me to take (at that time), so I played with his cock and the rest of his body, and then fucked him. The rest of the night ended up being pretty vanilla, but I had no complaints. He revealed at that time that he was actually 20, not 25, as stated in his profile. When men lie about their ages, it's usually to make themselves younger, so I had to ask why he'd made his age older. "Would you take a 20yo Dom seriously?" I had to admit, maybe not. Even the one lie he'd told was thoughtful.Brian also turned out to be much more of a sweetheart than his Dom persona. None of the head games or verbal abuse that he'd previously engaged in. We fell asleep in each other's arms in my bed, later joined by my Standard Schnauzer, who adored Brian (a good sign). I woke before Brian and extracted myself to do normal everyday things, like load the dishwasher. Brian awoke with first a start, not realizing initially where he was, then what he described as contentment and a bit of surprise that I hadn't kicked him out after we were done having sex, as he'd so sadly grown used to.Brian and I became romantically involved for 2 years after that. It was fun taking him out on his 21st birthday to all the Seattle bars and clubs that he ultimately found "underwhelming." I had discussed several times with him how our relationship, with its 35-year age difference, couldn't last forever, but we enjoyed each other's company immensely. I even met his parents, which I feared would be awkward, considering I was older than his mother, but they were great, mostly just thankful that Brian was with someone who treated him so well. As our 2-year relationship began to taper off, we transitioned from a conventional romantic role back to kink, and the kink was (and continues to be) much better this time around, considering that we now knew each other intimately, had spent 2 years building trust, and I could now not only take his gargantuan cock (I worried he'd pass out whenever he got an erection because all the blood would go rushing out of his skinny body into his disproportionate penis), but could take it rough. I relocated to Southern Oregon last year, but Brian and I still get together for fun and kink and friendship. The man who ends up as his life partner is going to be a very lucky man indeed. As lucky as I've been for having Brian in my life.

I am pathetic.  After everything that happened I swore off this life. I deleted Fet, removed all my social media, removed all my chats EXCEPT FOR CS only because I was afraid in the next few years if I returned to this life it would take Forever to make a new CS account. Which I guess is good as I have 1 avenue I can share these thoughts. In summary, I'm pathetic. I didn't even last 3 weeks before I was deeply depressed.  Which doesn't matter as I don't have a Master anyways.  By the way Master Tim wherever you are now, dead or alive, you owe me. You owe me big time. I was newly married, a house wife, in my 20's and I went online (back then) on Yahoo chat. I had just found a book on Gor the first book in the series and I had questions and I didn't know what to do with these newly discovered feelings. I just wanted to know what this meant. I'm a black female who was married to a black man and I had shown him what I saw and wanted to engage it. My husband said what black woman would ever want that life. I was mortified. Is there something wrong with me? I just wanted to know. Then I found Master Tim. Master Tim you didn't have to show me the lifestyle. For 5 years.  You wanted to meet outside of chat day 1 of talking. I agreed and thought I'd was being smart by saying a public place .. Like the library. You pulled up an older white man with leather on and a motorcycle. You looked like you came from the wrong side of the tracks. I was young (in my 20's but truancy officers still stopped me), newly married, black female who was probably too naive for my own good. I watched you sit on your motorcycle. I knew it was you. You didn't look like you belonged here.. it was thrilling to watch you knowing you were just like in the books. You finally got off your bike and went inside. I wanted to see more, observe more. I went inside. I didn't see you and went deeper looking through the book aisles. You cornered me and said my chat handle. I nodded and you said you knew it was me something about being able to tell a submissive girl.  Side note: I have heard that over the years. A man would look at me and be like your submissive or a slave and I would be like how do you know. This always happened in a vanilla setting where I was not behaving in a submissive way to me but I was always called out.  I digress. You reached slowly to touch my breast and I didn't fight you or anything. I didn't know what to expect but I knew from the book and Yahoo chat this is what is to happen if He/You wanted. I got nervous and you stopped. What if we were spotted and this was my town what if a friend of my husband saw us... See I was naive and stupid. You told me to take you to my home. I nodded and did. JUST met this man and did. I was lucky you didn't hurt me. I brought you into my home and you whistled. I was proud of my house. You then ordered me to kneel and you stripped me. You put me in the correct position for kneeling and you touched my pussy and breasts. I was in heaven. I can't describe the feeling of being under that gaze that makes you forget how ugly and fat you are. That gaze that makes you feel womanly, sexy and that you'll do anything for Him. Master Tim gave me his address and told me to meet you at your house tomorrow if I was serious.  I was serious. I did everything you commanded. I was not perfect. I was tired. Annoying. Hell, you had to order me to fuck my husband (my first Master was so considerate). When you worked late, I went out with the "girls" at your commands so you wouldn't be bored. Tired up in the back of your party bus. The patrons thought it was a great gag. When you parked and they went to the clubs to party you couldn't leave the bus. We had fun. Whatever Master wanted. Needed. Then one day out of the blue you said your were sick/hurt and that you were moving to Georgia. And left. Just like that. I was released and you were gone. Over the phone. A year or so back I had begged you to meet me divorce my husband so I could be your slave full time. You said you couldn't give me the life I was used to. I'm not an idiot. I realized you lived in poverty let's be honest and I was upper middle class but that didn't matter to me. I just wanted this life but permanent. I thought I could say least prove to you that I was what you wanted but you were gone. I didn't even get a say. I was devastated. I was crying on the bed and my husband sat next to me. He said that our first 3 years of marriage/dating was hard but these last 5 years have been pure bliss. Now I'm home crying like I lost a family member. He gently asked if I had been cheating. I told him yes. That it was bdsm and he said he didn't realize how important it was to me. He would try. My husband found out I was cheating our whole marriage and said he'll be what I needed to be happy. I agreed. It lasted a mere thought. The man is just not built like that and I was trained in the strictest version of bdsm. He was doomed to fail.I was depressed sad and this life I can't stand anymore. Everything made sense with Master Tim. This... This life didn't.. I got divorced.  I've had Masters after Tim but ... I'm not worthy. I'm not submissive. I'm a slave. They are different to me. I get excited at options cuz I'm used to not having them and honestly I don't really want the choices. I'm a slave. I do as commanded. That feels right. I don't mind getting to make a recommendation but ... Yeah ...I'm too old now to keep looking for a Master. Youth is not on my side and my pretty looks is aging. It's harder to stay slim naturally and ... I really hate this life. I wish I never found that damn book. I wish I never had good Masters and then bad Masters but regardless Masters. I wish I could be normal and vanilla and that I don't long for the strict confined world I can no longer be a part of.  I wish there was a way for the pain to end.  It's so incredibly painful to be this way, I can't help it, and there is no counterpart. Its worse than being lonely. I'm a slave with no Master. I can't breathe, I can't think, I try desperately to never engage to not think of this life.  it wasn't supposed to be this way and like I said lated 3 weeks. I'm pathetic. 

Things I want to get during 2024 Succubus Womb Tattoo Nipples Pierced Ears Pierced even a single win in a local yugioh tournament

FFS people! READ profiles before contacting someone! Yes, my profile lists me as a switch, but that does not mean I want to do anything and everything with everyone. I am looking for a male dominant, and a female slave. I am NOT looking for a male sub for anything other than maybe domestic, manual labour. I am NOT interested in a sissy, CD/TV (unless they fit the aforementioned manual labour bill), FLR, or any form of meaningful "relationship" with a submissive male. As noted in my profile here, my blog profile lists EVERYTHING I am seeking in great detail. READ IT!

I’m funny, strong, sick and alone. I wear a sold-thick mask. Only i choose who will get to see my truth and when. Today and tonight are hard. I don’t like where I am or how I am. I feel desperate for dick for a, tongue even teeth. My neck is naked and breasts - nipples are tingling . Even fat there are places you can feel bones. My ass is high and wide easy to spread and enter. Go slow so we both feel you break through that first sphincter- oh so good, you’ll decide when to do that again. The feeling is pleasure but also demonstrates your power over me. Put me on my belly, lay me on my back, cl my hands and ride me like I’m a horse- hold me down whisper into my ear, bite my skin and enjoy me, long and hard, mmmm. By now my cunt has created a puddle of my juices. Lips are wide gapping open waiting to be entered, i moan as you hit my back wall and I clench as i cum and again. You hit my crevicx, oh my breath pushes out of me. I am cuming again and again. Vagina spasms over and over. I clench down and hold you. You look confused, i laugh and let you go. You turn me over and we kiss passionately you reach up and put a hand on my throat, a bit harder as i slip into subspace. You let go, my eyes are glassy and I smile slowly and quietly.  Mmm i pur. You turn me on my side, you insert a dildo into one hole and yourself into the other, fuck me until you cum - you stay a minute and the cum slides out of me as you do. We sleep facing and touching each other. What do you think?

Touch  I am sure I had sensory processing disorder as a kid. I totally remember crying all the time from some of the stuff my mom used to want me to wear, and I remember her just sitting there looking at me totally baffled trying to assure me it was the softest she could find. Or having to stop 15 times on a school field trip to sit on the floor in the middle of a museum and take off my shoes and pull up my socks because they kept shifting in my shoe and the seam was by my toe... I grew up in the NJ/NY area around Italians, and Jews, and Irish, and lots of "Old World Europeans" who at a minimum bear hugged and kissed one cheek, if not both, if not multiple times each time they greeted you.  I am in the Midwest now where they are a little more reserved.  I can't remember the last time I got a cheek kiss and most of the hugs are just side hugs... I still tend to crash in and hug anyone I know won't flip out from it though lol.  I miss those bear hugs!  Getting one now days is enough to bring tears to my eyes my body needs it so much! The chemical release in my brain is outside of my control! I need this.  Need.  Need like I need food, water, and shelter.  Studies during the pandemic have shown  am not alone in this, but my sensory processing issues probably make it a little extreme for me.  For years scientists have studies out hands and fingers, joints, skin, etc and their sense of touch, but recently they are becoming interested in a subset of touch sensitive nerves in the core regions of our body, such as the back, which have one been discovered.   *“This second type of sensory nerves send signals to areas of our brains that deal with emotional processing. They are most responsive to skin temperature and gentle, stroking touch. Observational studies find that when people are asked to caress their infant, or their romantic partner, they spontaneously use the slow stroking speeds that these nerve fibres prefer. This touch is subjectively perceived as pleasant; it calms and soothes us physiologically, reducing heart rate and buffering against the effects of stress. When stimulated, these nerves send signals via the spinal cord to the brain where they release a cascade of neurochemicals. One of the most notable chemicals among these is oxytocin, a hormone released by low-intensity skin stimulation such as hugs. Oxytocin is known to play important roles in social bonding, and can reduce stress and increase our tolerance to pain. The release of oxytocin during social interactions is context-dependent: only when a hug is wanted will the comforting and rewarding effects be felt. When touch is desired, the benefits are shared by both partners in the exchange.” This explains my desperate need and the reason I melt like a purring kitten when I get it and shut down like an angry Doberman when I don’t.  Take me from a culture that touched all the time, and in sensory processing issues, and then throw widowhood in a post-pandemic world… Touch me.  Don’t ever keep it from me.  I can’t be held responsible if you do.  Just saying…    excerpts from *From the Article “The science of hugging, and why we’re missing it so much during the pandemic by Susannah Walker”  

PLEASE READ CAREFULLY DO NOT SEND DICK PICS OR NUDES NOT INTERESTED IN SEXTING I DO NOT WANT A SUGAR DADDY I DO NOT HAVE AN ONLYFANS ACCOUNT NOR DO I WANT ONE I'M NOT LOOKING TO MAKE CONTENT WITH ANYONE I DON'T WANT YOUR MONEY I'M NOT HERE TO TRADE PICS OR VIDEOS I AM NOT LOOKING FOR FWB NOT LOOKING FOR OR WANTING HOOKUPS. DO NOT CONTACT ME REGARDING HOOKUPS PERIOD. I DO NOT SUB OR PLAY OVER THE INTERNET. I'M NOT HERE FOR SEXTING I'M NOT INTERESTED IN BEING PART OF A COUPLE/POLY RELATIONSHIP MY HARD LIMITS AND BOUNDARIES ARE ANYTHING ILLEGAL, ANAL, ANIMALS, DRUGS OF ANY SORT, ANYTHING TO DO WITH HUMAN OR ANIMAL WASTE. DO NOT PUSH MY LIMITS/ BOUNDARIES OR YOU WILL BE REPORTED AND BLOCKED. ADDITIONAL HARD LIMITS/ BOUNDARIES FACE FUCKING, GAGGING, HUMILIATION,VOMIT, THIS WILL BE UPDATED WHEN AND IF I FIND MORE LIMITS AND BOUNDARIES.

Heyo <3      So this past year I've really been losing my grip on the hope I will fine someone, let alone a Daddy.  It's been a new kind of inner crisis to navigate you could say lol.  My presence is nada on FL, and I have literally.. no family or friends/ no one in the area to even hang out with or do fun things on the weekends.. Idk.. It's been a...lot.. Anyways-  Due to my mindset and whatnot, I was shook to login today and found I have 2 and a half pages of messages to read and reply to.  If you messaged me from 05/06/24 to present- I AM  SO SORRY!!  You have not been ignored, and yes this account will remain active. I will begin sending out replies tonight and promise to be more mindful in checking my inbox regularly going forward.  I hope I haven't peeved anyone off.. of course I care!! So thank you for your patience as I get caught up this weekend <3      <3      <3       Around the beginning of this month I glanced on here and decided to bring this profile up to date and to only use this profile.  Everything on here is now current and accurate.  My B profile I have taken down/hidden, and will only pop up if for some reason this one needs updating.  That is why some may of noticed I have two.  But they were confusing as to what was when etc etc.  So if you ever messaged me on a different profile: please reach out here if you would like to chat.  Also, please note I will not be checking that profile for the foreseeable future.  Updating this profile the other day was not accompanied by a long, long wait.  That's fantastic imo.  Anyways, I wanted to clarify.  Hearts and hugs :)  It's nice to be back.  Wish me luck 🍀 

You come to my apartment with flowers, a bouquet of roses, baby's breath, snapdragons, alstroemeria. I invite you in, and make no apologies for what will happen to you. You are already trembling, skin warm but the sensation like a cool breeze as I circle you, eyeing you up and down.    I give you a glass of water, I ask, "Ready?"   And you answer, "Yes Goddess."   I nod.   I come home.   You are punished. Daily. Thoroughly. A lash for every sin against me or the others. I watch you bleed. I clean your back, smiling at every wince.   Your family doesn't understand, and I rub their noses in it. I punish them, too, for their part in your deceit. They made you monstrous and in need of training from a firm hand. They will never again poison the well. No one will. You are MINE. My influence is the only thing of consequence.    I will lead my horse to drink, and you will swallow every bitter drop.   I want to come home, to let my sludge of a soul slide down your throat, to watch you choke, to watch you squirm.   I want my curse to leave my fingertips, and travel inches instead of miles.   You will suffer and I will seethe and it will be beautiful, because that's all the hope I have left.   You will crawl on your knees, and learn your place on collared lead, you will feel every second of the earth's contact on your broken vessel.   You dare to defy, and I dare to ask you back for recompense.   I spit in your eye, while you pray for more.   Have you forgotten that it was you who made my altar, and it is your blood that I crave - it is you who created this mess.   It was you, it is you, always you.   My throne awaits, and calls for me.  

What respect means to me Respect is a versatile word in that it has multiple meanings depending on use. I mostly see the word respect by the definition to place high or having great esteem or admiration. This form of respect is something that can not be given, nor can it be taken away as noble words and deeds must earn it. A second aspect of the word respect is giving consideration or special attention. I do not like to use respect in this way. I prefer to use the word courtesy instead as it is more often viewed more favorably by audience, especially in the bdsm community

 BDSMtoygirl77