I should try fishing as a sport because this site is exactly the same. You are putting out a hook waiting for a good fish to swim by. Unhooked a rotten fish last week (married again) luckily never went on a date with that fish. Stuck to my principles and my gut feeling, creepy man contacted me on his second profile.  Very creepy.  Not just cheating on his wife but on the Mistress and wanted a 3rd pond to play in. Having a me day, new underwear, new shoes and dress, hair done, nails and eyebrows, full body wax (fresh and clean), got my head focused on my priorities (my career). But I must admit while waiting patiently some very pretty fish have been swimming by. Reminds me being patient for someone good is always for the best.

The picture for the following scene deion next week shows the soles of My shoes and a call bell in My hand.   I have just returned from walking on a very popular board walk along puget sound. The only problem with this wonderful stroll is the filth left by dogs on the boards.    People love to walk their dogs where they can also enjoy the vista of sound and mountains. However, people do not love to clean up after their animals.    Now I am home. As anyone can see I have rang the hand bell to call my slave.    Does the reader consider itself a slave? If so, the above view is what it gets when it answers the bell on its knees as it should. Looking up it sees the soles of my shoes.    Tell Me, slave, how does it feel looking up?    Is it hesitant? 

Its been a year since I discovered nu-metal. It's spoken to me like no other type of music has...Like as if...I was missing something in my life. My thoughts Is interpreted through the amplifyed speakers. Then, the YouTube algorithm brought KORN in the mix and just went absolutely crunk nutty.   

11/27/25 - updated 12/2/25* I'm at a turning point. I'll be focusing on things and people IRL. If you're near Denver and want to meet up at an event, drop me a line. I don't get message notifications here on CS, so FetLife may be your best bet. I hope you have an enjoyable and safe holiday season! Blue (= *I was away from CS for a while due to an illness. The cause remains unknown, however the effects were evident... The left hemisphere of my head went numb for almost two weeks, and I completely lost hearing in my left ear. I had balance issues, trouble focusing, and since the ear and sinus infection spread to my eye, I had pinkeye. It was frustrating to be unable to attend events at the Dungeon, including the party I'd spent over a year planning. Most of my hearing returned, though I gave some permanent damage on the left side. I'm wondering if there may have been some effect on my mental health while the side of my head was numb... I'm doing OK for the most part, just facing some issues that I haven't experienced in years. I'll be fine, I know. As always, I try to keep a positive attitude. Unfortunately I didn't get much accomplished during the month or so I was ill, which is one big reason I'm focusing on people and events locally. I'm still looking for a sub/slave, though, so I won't be gone for good. 😉

I'm going to use an anecdote to give a little insight about what I like. It may be a little long but bear with me. I had a Dom/friend, he's in Arkansas now, we met at a party & his then GF was yelling at him & he was yelling at her. Was ruining the vibe so I told her to go upstairs, and took him outside. Went up stairs, chatted with her: She didn't like him talking to other girls. Stupid nagging problems. Went downstairs. Talked to him out in the alley. He didn't like that she slept with his friends when she was mad at him. Which sort of ticked me off. Anyway we chatted and he gave me an out of the blue kiss. Then next day all day sucking/fucking. He liked playing the XBox while getting head. Watching porn and getting head. And having someone to rub his feet, his back. I told him his ex GF was a bitch & the worst kind - the one who sends pics of her fucking to him. He did love her and It made me want to please and make him feel special. I told him he could do whatever he wanted with me. He liked being complimented and thought of. I like his build & personality. He had some kinks like enjoying being rimmed, choking, verbal and I was always open for him when he needed to fuck. I liked it when he sat on my face and made me eat his ass while he relaxed and even when he put his foot in my mouth and had me worship his feet. I enjoyed him being at a desk with me under it, soft cock in my mouth. It'll grow until it was ready to fuck my face then after he came it'll rest in my mouth until he was ready again. We became pretty good friends. Discreet fuck buddies the entire time since the crazy Ex was still around & we both liked no one knowing our business. He moved out to AK closer to family but we both had a great time and I enjoyed being there for him and making him feel like a King. I knew my place, he knew my place and we both knew his place. - 2017

I started undergrad in 1973, a medium- sized state university, i was footing the bill & money was tight so I went to student services to see their listings for jobs. There were the usual, dining hall jobs, a few being ushers & security at some sporting events, a couple for maintanance & groundskeeping, then I saw one for art department figure model & it paid $15 an hour, unheard of in the early 1970's, I put my name & number on the list & crossed my fingers. A couple of days later there was a notice in my dorm room mailbox to call the art department offices & ask for Ms. So & So. I decided to prove I was real go-getter & drop by the office. Met with the lady, a graduate assistant, & she told me what the job entailed, Tuesday & Thursday evenings, 7-9:30 PM, nude figure drawing mostly, there may be some painting, there could be private sessions for more advanced work but that was to be negotiated with the individual, the school wasn't paying. She offered me the job, said they were hiring one male, one female but we'd never be doing the same class at the same time. I jumped at the chance as I had a strong CMNM interest at the time. More to come, watch this space.

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. Former US Army Chiefs of Staff chairman Mark Milley 4 Star General https://www.washingtonpost.com/nation/2024/10/12/mark-milley-donald-trump-fascist/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oFVuQ0RP_As https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9to_1UYH5rE https://www.c-span.org/video/?539560-1/joint-chiefs-staff-chair-mark-milley-discusses-us-national-security    

Hello again to all,   There is so much more complexity to life and interests.  In actuality, I am a natural born dominant personality and that is separate from and precedes bdsm.  My mother said I learned to talk before I learned to walk because I realized I could get everyone to do what I wanted.  Being dominant is as natural as breathing and has nothing to do with sex specifically, it informs all parts of my life and being. First assumption people have is that being a Dominant is part of doing bdsm.  I am not looking nor seeking anyone or anything.   My life is doing and experiencing and achieving.    I would rather focus on art and business and watch shows and smoke bud and chill with my pits than deal with someone else's bucket list and wishes that I will fulfull it for them.  Waste of my time when that is absolutely not sex for me.  Just me doing something well for someone else because they need it and I am exceptional at most things I choose to do doesn't really make it interesting or exceptional for me.  Just run of the mill.   My sex type is a younger ab'd up sexy twink in their 30's to 40's.   Please note I am not looking for that either.   I am doing me and working on my income and business.  Here to talk to and meet interesting intelligent people and honestly, practice blogging somewhere while I get my website up.  Have the domain and the hosting set.....  for a few businesses actually.   If you want to be used and are concerned with sex primarily, find someone else.  If you want a fun and interesting life and to do more in it... maybe I will find you interesting.      I was sexually explorative and a NYC club kid (excellent dancer) in the 80's which was a shit ton of fun. Being in charge and very considerate can all be part of a dominant personality and are integral to all ects of my life. Silly men who contact me asking about what fetishes I enjoy miss the point, fetish doesn't drive my life.   I do.  If you are telling me you want and it is only about your sexual bdsm needs in your first contact, you will get one email and then I will ignore you if you continue only talking about bdsm and sex. While I do love many things bdsm, I do not love talking about them unless I already know someone.   If I am going to share details like that, I will do so when my website is done and I am blogging and podcasting and using those stories and details for business for all to hear/read rather than tell them to a casual questioner. I have stories enough from many ects of life to tell and let others live vicariously throughthem while I get some residual income.My being here on collarspace is to practice blog and, every once in a while, I make a good friend which I value more.   Most of my actual relationships happened in every day life.    If you really want to know your chances with me, below is the criteria that matters: I am more attracted to someone in shape, 15 years younger, with a brain, abs, and an interest in something that intersects with my businesses  which use skills/crafts like painting, graphic design, wearable art, clothing/t shirt design, website design, leather work, beadwork, blogging, and podcasting, computer tecg hardware and software support.  There must also be a connection with personal interests which include a lot Marvel, DC, and sci fi/fantasy shows while working in photoshopand going out dancing and fine dining, when I don't cook at home (excellent home chef here), in-depth conversations,yes I read global news and poltiics and science every other fucking intersting thing I run into and research.   I learn a lot, talk fast, think faster and most people are overwhelmed.    I do all of these things and more and I want someone who can get involved, keep up, and be rewarded with fun things that include yes, bdsm and just plain old hardcore fuck for an hour and get damn sweaty type shit at least once a day...which is actually my favorite thing.    No huge dicks wanted jsut ones that can go for an hour or more...lmmfao.    Older, petite and that shit don't fit, and not what I want.Lola the Iron Mistress        

Personal growth is the evolution of the mind to catch up with our soul. It comes in stages. For some it takes a while for others it's their daily obligation to themselves. One must sit back each evening after the sun has set and before the stars have risen. Take advantage of this purgatory moment in the heavens to lose oneself inside their being. Drift through the thoughts of the day gone by and squarely face it for all it was as we search for the answers of what it could be. Inspect ourselves for the quality we expect and demand of ourselves. Find errors in our ways and vow to be more mindful of tomorrow. For tomorrow is only a day away.  And hence the process proceeds as the journey continues.  Never ending, never arriving at our destination but always traveling.  Being mindful of the journey and appreciating the ability we have to be able to travel. Sometimes alone, sometimes in the company of others. At times even in the company of others but alone and lost within ourselves. Yet always traveling. The road blocks we encounter may sometimes lead us astray but never stopping us unless we allow them.  It is not only our obligation to meet them head on but to also overcome them with speed and efficiency. If not for us for the others in our lives. So take the moments when you can. Lose yourself and search your very depths and face your humanity as often as possible. Find the strength to look at yourself flaws and all and the courage to admit your weaknesses. Mistakes are just flaws not repaired.  Just like a pencil has an eraser to clean an error, let acknowledgement be yours.

The subject of politics came up during a recent talk with a submissive man and it quickly went to the subject of abortion, and I had some marvelous revelations on the subject of politics and religion and sex.  I paraphrase in part and the rest is history... "I voted for Trump - his heart is in a good place" "I think his heart could be in a good place yet he took action to ensure that My right to sovereignty over My body was abolished.  What the fuck is that?" "Well, he didn't do it to you."  "Yes, yes he did.  He placed two Supreme Court Justices to help overturn Roe v Wade." "Ruth Bader Ginsberg didn't really believe in blah blah blah" "I don't care what she believed in, no one has a right to control My body." "So how long?  How many weeks?" "How many weeks for what? There are NO weeks.  This is not anyone else's decision." "Well, that's murder."  "Who says?  You? Your friends, your church, your politics?" "Do you believe in murder?" "Who are we murdering?  Do you have leather cowhide seats and shoes on your feet?  How about all the meat which you eat - that is murder - terminating life - where are the rules?  Why  is it murder if I am terminating the propagation of cells within My body?  Are we murdering cancer?  Who told you you get to choose what is okay to call murder and what is not?  Who told you you could decide for Me?  I terminate those cells in My body from manifesting and it is My right to do so." "I didn't say murder." "Yes you did.  You said at what time, how many weeks does it become murder.  You are now classifying Me as a murderer if I conduct business on My body." Silence. "What I am saying is, you cannot speak to Me about this subject.  You have no idea what you are talking about.  No one is telling you you have to pay $500 a month for a life, if you conceive with a woman.  No one is controlling your sex! You do not have a right, no one does and it's none of your business.  Is this an issue of the Bible?  Who told the bible it had ANY business in My cunt?  This is My body.  No one gets to decide what happens with it except for Me. Period.  "Well what if you want the baby and the mother doesn't?"  "Tough cookies!  TOO bad.  That is not a decision for you to make and you don't then get to have some tantrum and make Me have a child - that is bloody bullshit!  What the fuck are we talking about?  You don't get to claim some part of My sex just because you have a constant erection and implanted in Me.  You made a D O N A T I O N.  Once you implant your seed, you gave up the rights to that seed.  Once it passes to Me, it then belongs to Me.  What are you, some indian giver?  If you want some commitment to My sex, then that has to be in some kind of sex prenup. I can sign right on the dotted line, I, Ms. C do agree to have one sub ______ pour his seed into My cunt and thereby give him rights over My cunt to then decide whether I and My body, agree to have or have not to bring forth life from My body.   Anything else is Psychological Rape and I don't agree with that!   Can you imagine going to the bank and depositing your funds and the bank says, hey we reserve the right to borrow your money indefinitely and with variable interest depending on whether we are making a profit."  LOL  At one point in the discussion, I had to ask: Why the fuck do you believe you have some dominion over My cunt?  Do I have control over your cock?  Legally?  lol Here is the last arguement and listen up here boys and girls - who the fuck are you to decide what life is of value and what life is not?  Human life is more important than all other life forms???  Are you seriously going to pander that self righteous malarky on Me?  lol   Humans are SOOOOOOOO self absorbed and elitist and primitive. And please, shut the Bible thumping door right now.  I will pay the price with My maker in My own time of this you can be assured and THAT, My wayward PRIMATE is NONE of your concern!  So I ask again, who gave you the right to get all up into My stuff and stake some claim over it? Why do you think you have ANY rights over My body and what happens with it?  WHY DO YOU CARE ABOUT MY / WOMAN'S  BLOODY CUNT???  It truly is NONE of YOUR business! Take care of your own junk and leave ours alone! No apologies offered. Here is a novel idea;  how about a bar code (back of your ID) which tells all about you, drugs, diseases, health  issues, whether or not you grant authority over your cunt/dick to a sexual partner, NSA, marriage minded.  Then we can just scan one another and be done with the charade!

We were at a party on the camp site where Katie was dancing and flirting with a couple of guys who were new to the site. Not being a dancer myself I was sitting at a table drinking with a few friends. I watched with interest as the three of them were having fun on floor and dancing sexy to the slower records being played. I think they thought my wife was a single woman as their hands were all over her and both rubbing up against her. They were buying her drinks all night and at one point she must have told them who I was because half way through the night one of them came over and apologized and asked if I was okay to the fact that they were dancing with her and buying her drinks. I assured him there was no problem and that I was actually enjoying watching them have fun. To cut a long story short she was pretty drunk by the end of the night. They came over and apologized for getting her so drunk and offered to help me take her back to our campervan as she could hardly stand up and the van was parked some distance away. I was not that drunk myself but made out I was. On the way back to the van she passed out and we had to carry her the rest of the way. Back in the van we laid her on the bed and I thanked them for helping me get her back. I invited them to stay for a while and gave them both a cold beer from the fridge. After chatting about the party for 15 minutes or so I suddenly said "Oh my god, She'll kill me tomorrow." I lied. "That's a new dress, she only bought it today, cost a lot of money too" Pretending to be more drunk than I was I sat on the bed and tried to lift her head up in an attempt to take her dress off. Not being able to I asked if they could help. One of them pulled her up by her arms so she was in a sit up position. I managed to undo the zip on the back of her dress. I unhooked her bra too. After managing to get her dress off I put it on a hanger as she laid there in just her panties with her loose bra and her breasts partly on show. I said "Oh well might as well get her into bed" I removed her bra and panties leaving her there totally nude for their pleasure. Without making it obvious I slightly opened her legs so her cunt was on show. That was when I gave them another beer and made the excuse that I needed a wee up a tree and left the van leaving them alone with her.. It was pitch black outside and bright in the van. You could not see out of the vans windows but leaving the curtains ajar I had a perfect view of inside. 

Sissy Bimbo Journal Entry: Hello, darlings! 💕✨ This is your cute little bimbo sissy, just putting it out there: I’m ready and begging to be used in any and every way that pleases you! I’ve totally embraced my role as the ultimate sissy toy, and I am always eager to fulfill every hardcore fantasy you have in mind. My mind is nothing but pink, sparkles, and submission, and I’m craving the chance to be molded, trained, and pushed to my limits. 💖 Ultimate Bimbo Doll Training 💖 I’m fully ready to be turned into the perfect bimbo doll, trained to speak, move, and think in the way you desire. Take control of my wardrobe, my body, and my entire mindset—teach me to be the obedient, mindless bimbo you crave, with nothing in my head except the need to please. 💋 Public Play Object 💋 Imagine me out in public, dressed in the skimpiest outfits you choose, completely exposed to everyone’s gaze. I’m ready to be humiliated, shown off, and paraded around like the little sissy I am. I’ll follow any command you give me, no matter how embarrassing or degrading. 🔒 Chastity and Control 🔒 Lock me up and hold the key to my most private parts—I don’t deserve any pleasure unless it’s from you. You can decide when, where, and how (or if) I’m ever allowed to feel pleasure. Keep me teased and denied, desperate and begging, while you revel in the control you have over my helpless, needy body. 🔨 Degradation Play 🔨 I’m nothing but a sissy bimbo, ready to be verbally torn down and reduced to the lowest possible level of worth. Humiliate me, call me worthless, make me feel like the trashy toy I was meant to be, and I’ll love every second of it. I’ll wear any degrading outfit, repeat any humiliating phrase, and sink into complete mental submission under your control. 🩺 Medical and Sissy Transformation 🩺 Feel free to turn me into your personal project—use me for extreme body transformation fantasies. From forced feminization to body modifications, I’m here for it all. Shape me, mold me, make me the ultimate sissy that exists to fulfill your twisted fantasies. 🖤 Total Objectification 🖤 I exist to be used. You can treat me as an inanimate object—whether that means being your human furniture, your pet, or something more extreme. Use me however you want. I have no thoughts, no desires, no goals except to be a perfect plaything for those who crave power over me. So, if you’re looking for the ultimate sissy bimbo who lives to be used, abused, and degraded, I’m here, fully willing and desperate to be the toy you desire. Let’s explore your wildest, most hardcore fantasies together—I promise I’m ready for anything. 💄👠 Message me and let’s make your most extreme dreams come true. I’m here to serve, sissy bimbo style! 💕💋 Love and submission, Your Little Sissy

On the twelfth day of Kinkmas my true sub got from me:Twelve spankers spankingEleven croppers croppingTen paddlers paddlingNine caners caningEight maids a milkingSeven floggers floggingSix whippers whippingFive Ben Wa ballsFour anal beadsThree stuffed holesTwo nipple clampsAnd a red butt over my knee.

He settled into the chair as I stood in front of him. He instructed me to turn around a couple times. I tried to suck my gut in and squeeze my butt to lift it and made it look tighter. He noticed and told me that it is what he expected of me when I walk around naked. That my butt should look good at all times. I made a mental note of my position. I had a show roughly worked out in case he didn't provide his own instructions and began to show him my body. With each step he gave me instructions on how I could look hotter. At times he came up and ran his hands over me as I held still. With both hands I grabbed a rope that was dangling from the ceiling and feigned having my hands tied above my head. I bent myself over the bed. He gave me instructions as to how wide to open my ass and when he was happy had me hold still like that as he came over. He jerked his cock for a while and then ran his hands over my body, his fingers playing with my hole. At one point he approached me and kissed me. I held still and let him do it as he pleased, following his lead. I didn't think I'd like but I was surprised at how good it felt.  

No poetry from me today as I am looking forward to seeing Pretty Wreckless and  ACDC tomorrow at Wembley!!!  On a different subject those who apply to me who drive don't continue chatting. I have no intention of doing online sexting and expect ordinary topic style conversation which appears to beyond those submissive guys who message me 🤔  Okay they are not compatible so I move on. Though I wonder why they bother at all if they don't wish to make an effort to chat here. Of course establishing his intent is key. Most hold back on that using "boy speak" thinking creepy words which sound simpy will suffice= No. Honesty is key and attending the Munch I mention ASAP is the first step. Want to voice talk with me = it will be voice on Skype no you will not get my mobile number. No I am not interested until your location is near me. "Oh I will move for you" is declined/blocked. Reading other journals I see plenty of Dominant Women going through a similar problem. A guy who thinks he is interested and fits key points she seeks = submissive by his intent to please her and is ready to do stuff to show that. Like attending a munch as an adult and being a pleasant social adult. Why is being a social adult past his remit of what he can offer= his intent is to be an online wanker. That's blocked by me. Then I read one guy's journal about Dominant Women putting him, a round peg, into all sorts of bizarre shaped holes. Not reinventing the wheel here. Compatibility is first = outside of play and kink BEFORE play, kink and sex occur. Those fuckbois are a hard limit =oh fuck my ass"= that's anal sex. So they want a Kink dispenser ONLY=hard limit for me. Poof their gone. No problem my whips, rope, floggers and amusements will go on another. A whole adult strong submissive man intent on pleasing me, and accepting I am poly and being a grown up about it.

Let’s skip the small talk. I’m a Dominant woman — not your fantasy vending machine, not a fetish dispenser, and definitely not here to be topped from the bottom. I know exactly what I want. The question is… do you? I’m looking for a submissive man. Long-term potential only — someone who’s obedient but not weak, emotionally grounded, and genuinely turned on by service and surrender. If your submission is just a fetish, don’t waste my time. But if you crave structure, purpose, and the kind of dominance that hits deeper than kink, we might be aligned.   I expect maturity, respect, and the ability to follow instructions without making it about your wants. I’m not a roleplayer, I’m not soft, and I’m not new — so come correct. What I want from a submissive: daily or regular communication, task-following, consistency, obedience, and genuine desire to serve. Not just in the bedroom, but in mindset and behavior. You need to know how to be useful, present, and respectful. Disrespect, pushiness, or laziness gets blocked immediately.   I’m not into subs who want a Domme they can control. If you’re serious, real, and understand that submission is a privilege — not a right — then approach properly. Otherwise, keep scrolling. I’m not here for weak energy or half-assed effort. Want to serve? Show me why I should let you.

pet store (1/3) you lead me into the pet store quietly, just smiling to yourself when i shiver from the cool air on my already wet pussy. you hold my hand as we walk through the store, but move to stand behind me when we get to the collars and leashes. you place your hands possessively on my hips and pull me back against you, enjoying the view down my top as my breathing speeds up. "it's time, baby," you whisper into my ear. "what kind of collar do you want?" i hadn't thought about helping you choose my collar. i had half expected to wake up one morning to find it around my throat, if i was being honest, and i was overwhelmed by the choices. i shake my head, and you feel the moment my trembling shifts from arousal to panic. you pull me closer and kiss the side of my throat. "you're not choosing," you remind me. "you're helping me, but this is not up to you." your voice is sterner now and i sink into it, letting you steady me. "clear?" "yes sir." you kiss me on the throat again, in a spot i know will soon be covered up by your collar, and i moan softly. "good girl," you murmur before letting me go. i watch you walk up the aisle before moving to the collection of leather collars. i lose track of you while i look through the rows of collars, touching the cool leather, feeling how supple or stiff they are, shaking them to see how much noise they make and how heavy they are. i turn back to you as you walk back down the aisle toward me. you pick up one of the training collars, a metal one with spikes on the inside, and hold it up, jangling it to make sure you have my attention. my breathing speeds up again and you laugh a little when i squeeze my thighs together and reach out to the wall of collars to steady myself, but you put it back on its shelf. "maybe next time," you tell me, and finish walking back to me. you reach out to touch the collar i was looking at with one hand, and the other slips under my skirt, trailing up and down the slickness coating my inner thighs. you trace those wet fingers over my lips and i greedily suck them into my mouth, moaning a little at the taste of us. you start to pull your hand away but i hold onto it, making sure i haven't missed anything and rocking my hips in time to my sucking. you laugh at my whine when you finally remove your fingers from my mouth. "such a desperate little thing you are, babe." you move to stand behind me, trapping me between your body and the wall of collars. "this one?" i don't know how your voice is completely steady, considering you have one hand under my skirt again and i can feel you getting hard. when you first brush against my pussy lips, i look around, making sure we're alone. "eyes ahead," you tell me, your fingers stroking up and down my wet cunt. "tell me why this one." "it's pretty. i like--" i stop, ging when your fingers find my clit. a light pinch from you brings me back. "i like that it looks delicate, light pink with little gold hearts." i'm trying to grind against your fingers now, but you keep them far enough away that i can't get any relief. "and?" i can't help the whine that escapes me when you slip two fingers inside me. i rock against your fingers as i continue. "i like the matching bracelet. i can wear that whenever i can't wear the actual collar. so i'm always collared. always yours." i barely squeeze it out before you're pulling your hand out from under my skirt and i whine louder. you step back and watch me as you bring your fingers to your mouth. i'm still braced against the wall, eyes closed, hips rocking against nothing. there's a trail of pussy juice dripping down my legs and i can't hold back all the little moans and whimpers. "look at you, my pathetic, wanton slut. we haven't even looked at leashes yet."

On Realistic Expectations and the Woman You Are Serving   Let me be plain with you, because plainness here is a kindness and I have never been interested in the alternative. I attended a funeral last weekend. Alone.  I want to sit with that for a moment before I say anything else, because it is the most precise illustration I could offer of everything this journal is about. There is a specific and particular indignity in navigating grief in public without someone beside you. Not because I cannot do it, I can do anything alone, I have proven this repeatedly and without fanfare. But because a woman like me should not have to. Because the presence of a devoted and capable partner at your side during the hardest moments of ordinary life is not a luxury. It is what partnership is for. It is, in fact, one of the most fundamental things a serious dynamic should provide: someone who stands beside you in the moments that cost you something, who carries the social weight of difficult occasions, who is simply and solidly there so that you can grieve or endure or simply get through the day without also having to do it visibly alone. I disdain it. I will not dress that up. I disdain walking into rooms full of people as a woman unaccompanied, not because my worth requires a witness, but because I have built enough of a life to deserve someone who shows up for it completely, including the parts that are not beautiful or exciting or charged with the particular electricity of our dynamic. The funeral is not glamorous. It is not a candlelit dinner or a weekend in Greece. It is a Saturday in grief clothes standing in a room full of loss, and I will do it with my back straight and my composure intact because that is who I am, and I will come home to an empty house afterward, and I will feel the absence of what should be there with the specific sharpness of something that is missing rather than something that never existed. This is what I mean when I talk about realistic expectations cutting in both directions. I am a mother first. This is not a disclaimer. It is not an apology. It is the organizing fact of my life around which everything else, including you, arranges itself. I have two children in their preteen years, which anyone who has raised children knows is one of the most demanding and most critical seasons of a young person's life. They require my presence, my attention, my emotional availability, my time, and my energy in quantities that do not leave a remainder to be distributed according to your preferences. If you have arrived here expecting a Goddess with unlimited hours and frictionless availability, you have arrived at the wrong door. This weekend, I had my children.  My time was spent on them, because it is exactly where that time should be spent.  I am also finishing my education, because I am a woman who does not stop building herself simply because life has become complex. I work. I manage a household. I carry the particular and invisible weight that women carry, the planning and the anticipating and the holding of a thousand threads simultaneously, the mental labor that has no clock-out time and no weekend. What this means for you practically is something I need you to hear completely before you decide whether this life is what you actually want or simply what you have romanticized from a comfortable distance. My time is not abundant. It is finite and it is precious and it is allocated with the precision of someone who cannot afford to waste it. There will be days, entire stretches of days, where the children need me and school demands me and work requires me and what is left over is not nothing but it is quiet and it is mine and I will spend it restoring myself rather than managing your need for attention. This is not neglect. This is the reality of serving a woman with a full and serious life, and if you cannot hold yourself with dignity and purpose during those stretches then you are not the caliber of person this dynamic requires. A serious long term FLR TPE with a woman like me is not a constant performance of dominance and submission playing out in real time every hour of every day. It is a structure. It is an understanding so deeply embedded in the way we live that it does not require constant activation. It runs underneath everything, informing how the household operates, how decisions are made, how resources are allocated, how your time and energy are directed even when I am at a school pickup or a study session or simply in a bath with the door closed and my phone face down. Your place in this dynamic is to raise me. Not in the sense that I require raising. In the sense that your devotion, your service, your resources and your effort should be oriented toward elevating my life, reducing my load, creating space around me so that I can be the mother, the student, the professional, and the Goddess that I am without the additional friction of a partner who has become another item on my list of things to manage. You are not here to add to my weight. You are here to carry some of it. That means the household runs because you run it. It means my children's lives are easier because our home is stable and managed and full of the kind of calm that only exists when someone competent is handling the infrastructure of daily life with care. It means you have found your purpose and your structure in the service itself, not in the moments of explicit dynamic play, because those moments are real but they are not the whole of what this is. The whole of what this is lives in the Tuesday afternoon when I have a deadline and a tired child and you have already handled dinner and the house is quiet and I can do what I need to do because you have made space for it. It lives in the Saturday morning of a funeral when I do not have to walk in alone. That is the submission I am describing. Not the aesthetic of it. The actual weight-bearing practice of it, daily, in the ordinary moments that make up most of a life. The grief clothes and the school pickups and the late study nights and the hard weekends. The presence that does not require the occasion to be significant in order to show up for it completely. If you can find your satisfaction there, in the real and unglamorous work of elevating another person's existence, then you understand something essential about what I am offering and what I require. The collar and the candlelight exist. They are real and they are extraordinary. But they rest on a foundation of consistent, intelligent, humble service that asks nothing of me except that I receive it well. I receive it very well. But you have to bring it first, and bring it correctly, and bring it to the funeral as readily as you bring it to the beautiful moments, because the funeral is where it counts the most and the beautiful moments are easy. I am worth the patience. I am worth the long view. I am worth showing up for on the hard Saturdays. The question is whether you are the person who actually does.

Honestly, some of these "top from the bottom" people.  lol This jerk off, on email ONE, mind you, was making arraingments. Didn't even say hello.  SERIOIUSLY????? I have everything in my profile on what to send if wanting consideration, did he send it....no. Demanding that I jump on phone and talk about moving, etc.  Then stomping off having a fit because things are not done YOUR way, even though I say exactly how i do things within my profile, is not my idea of submissive. I am talking to a real gentleman submissive, a few actually, but one in particular (you know who you are)  LOL  They could teach you a thing or two. If you want to play submissive, and have everything done your way, then I suggest you go to a pro  LOL I so love the delete without reading feature, never have to read is crap ever again  LOL Hope this a-hole is gone for good.   lol

10 Please Join Us DECK THE BALLS Party Let’s make this holiday season unforgettable! Save the date for our Deck the Balls extravaganza. Wednesday december Las Vegas Strip

Just realized the collar Gods have not approved yet another post of mine that mentions anything political.  Nothing new in the world here. Moving along.... BOUNDARIES.   Good healthy relationships are based on boundaries.  This is why I have contracts.  No wishy washy, "but thta is not what I meant" chit. I'm not in this lifestyle to violate. I want to know what you will and will not do.  I want to exploit your desire to serve my own desire, but only with your consent and buy in. I find that most people, when face with putting to pen what they will and will not do, often see they are not really willing to do all that much.  No shade on this acount, each of has a reason for why we do what we do and what we dont do and it is all valid. Some peole want their boundaries violated.  They want no responsibilty for their person.  They want to blame someone else and they have learned how to feel secure in being a victim.  they cannot take accountaibility for who they are, what they like and dont like and are unwilling to do the hard work involved with being responsible for their thoughts, feelings and actions.  Many women have made an occupation out of this either through being literally mentally, socially financially, or physically beaten down.  They are so entirely overcome with the constant barrage of 'beatings' to their psyche that they give up and give in.  Of course this happens to men as well and regardless who it happens to it is unhealthy. Healthy relationships are possible and each of us deserves them.  Like anything worthwhile, it takes hard work.  You have to show up for yourself and from there, the rest fo the world konws how to relate to you.  If you dont show up for yourself, there are plenty of people in theworld who will be encouraged and emboldened to manipulate and use you to fill their own needs of inadequacy, low self worth and pain. Set Boundaries, Find Peace.  https://www.nedratawwab.com/books/set-boundaries-find-peace

To Daddy From little gurl Oh Daddy I’m so ready to truly begin our journey tog Daddy I can say with 100% honesty that this little daily ritual you gave me has become something your little gurl looks forward to everyday.j There is no misunderstanding Daddy. Just as you’re choosing me to be your submissive to own, I want you as my Daddy.I commit myself to you. I commit my mind, body, and soul to submit to you.  I eager await all your lessons. I understand some may be veryj hard. I know some will make me very emotional and I may even cry.    I believe you will guide me to achieve my dream of being the beautiful sexy desirable woman I’ve always felt inside of me. 

As an enticement Here are two decsriptions that I is did actually did perform and enjoy. That are not requirements, but a reflection of creativity and strength and fun. Perhaps these may motivate your interest   Tale 1 Years ago I was working professionally as a Dominant. My clientele typically were well off, all female, and seeking release from their careers. One in particular was seeking to be very much brought down in a submissive manner so that she could see herself and decide if that submission needed to be part of her life. One weekend, and yes, it was a stormy winter night, I went to her palatial home as arranged. The mood was to be very dark and I was to be dominant and very unyielding. She had only one way out of any situation, that was to ring a bell tied around her hand. That said, she was prepared for depths of dominance...... upon arrival, she was awaiting as instructed. Leather slave harness, well heeled thigh boots and kneeling in the entry way. I asked her if she was prepared and ready... she said yes. I placed my bag down, ball gagged her from behind, and clamped her nipples. She had a fine body and was already aroused. I place a posture collar on her and leashed her and made her follow me to her special room. Over the course of our encounters she had setup her own dungeon in her own place. There I stood her facing me and bound her limbs to the cross tightly. I then roped her to the cross at various points of her body so that her weight could be taken. For the next 2 hrs about, if flogged her, vibed her, made her orgasam at my will, and did what I wanted with her until she collapsed in her bondage. She knew this was the goal. After 2 hrs She was exhausted and emotional.... still though, she was defiant in verbiage to me as I worked with, but I always at all times called her how on her defiance and punished her for it. Seeking to drive her to submission forcibly was the mutual desired goal. In the end she did yield, where upon I released her and made her kneel properly holding by her hair roughly to the position. I removed the gag, and place a tight pvc hood upon her and regagged her with an in mouth penis gag. I then took her to a floor stock where she was bound and restricted at the arms, body, neck. I then plugged her ass with a plug and then placed a lubed fucking machine dildo in her and switched it on..... I told her she had to endure 2 hrs of forced fucking by an unyielding mechanical device or until she admitted she was a worthless cunt that was good only for fucking. This was a trigger phrase for her that she knew if she said it would allow her to descend mentally to the state she wanted to discover...... I sat in a chair and enjoyed controlling the unrelenting machine using her...... Interesting enough she lasted only one hour where upon sweating, and having orgasamed 5 times she begged for mercy and said her phrase and rang the bell in a believable manner. I release her and sat back in the chair an watched. She crawled to me..... rubbing her face against my boots, but pointed to her gag to be removed..... I did, and she at her own initiative said she was now truly a fucktoy, and cumslut slave craving only the release in submission she so desperately wanted..... I permitted her to orally pleasure me to seal the deal in her mind.

Well its a different thing now for therapy and to make better quality bondage gear again with a guarantee that no store or fetish maker Gives. As alot dont stand by there workmanship as it is a skilled craftsmans that if it makes quality gear of the best leather and hardware it should out last your slave or submissive. If it doesnt it has failed. So it guarantees to always replace free of charge restraints and other bondage gear it makes. It see so many out there making quality bondage gear and charging ridiculous prices. It wanted a Pony Harness and the price was Ridiculous $1500. It has to laugh. Well, the 2nd order of it Leather working tools have arrived from Amazon. Give it the third time in it life Rebuilding its Leather making workshop. And in the next fortnight, got a third order that has to go in. And that should see it. Build the tools and the workshop that it needs to start making. What It needs And wants And to rebuild it inventory. it uses the highest grade harness US latigo leather as used in the Saddle and Harness industry on the market and heavy metal hardware, Post screw rivets and with reinforced with leather sewing machine for extra strength for secure durablity.

She had spent the previous hour obeying his commands, staying in her allocated space, removing clothing when told, displaying herself when ordered, her shoulders ached from being held back to display her breasts, then from being held between two pillars, her thighs ached from being spread as she struggled to hold position. Now all she was wearing was a white G string, wrist and ankle cuffs, which he had used to spread eagle her between two pillars as he applied the flogger, concentrating on her back, bottom, thighs and stomach, but no part of her had escaped its attention. Once again he felt her roughly between her thighs, examining the scrap of material to see how wet she had made it, only eventually announcing she was wet enough. He released her, and immediately clipped her hands together and ordered her to her knees and elbows and to dip her spine, removing the tie sided string he then forced it into her mouth and then positioned himself behind her. His instructions were short and to the point, the first time he would enjoy her from behind, she would receive less stimulation that way so letting her concentrate on using her internal muscles to pleasure him. The crop would serve to remind her if she transgressed. He took a handful of her hair, pulling her head back he slowly entered her, ordering her when to tense her muscles as he also enjoyed the heat from her sore buttocks against his stomach.  He took his time, often she transgressed and paid the price of the crop, until she felt him slowly release.

She will spend her days at home nude … She will sleep in a cage unless she is being used by me at night. She will cook and clean and keep my home immaculate. In public she will dress slutty and be on display. She will call me Master in private and Sir in public. She will be very flirty and sweet to every man and boy. In public no bra or panties. She will exercise daily in the nude. She will shower daily as needed and shower with me every day. She will keep her body perfectly smooth and shave often. She will sit nude at my feet when I watch tv. She will speak to me in third person at all times and accept punishment when she makes errors. I will attach a permanent collar that she cannot remove, engraved with my name. I will have a tattoo placed on her left thigh, near her pussy. The letter “O”, for master obsidian, so all will know she is my property.

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

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

House of M UpdateDamaged (and Slightly Broken) As the song goes, "You're just broken. You're a little bit damaged, I'm a sucker for that" Something you might have seen in one of our past posts - "Seeking a slave who's slightly damaged" But what does it mean to us and why is it important to me and the House of M. First, We are all just a little broken and damaged inside. Nobody gets thru life without some degree of trauma, but so many of us just keep moving blindly forward, mindless of the bruises and scars that shape our actions every day of our life. We want those who are not blind to their trauma, and more, know how it impacts them and are connected enough with their inner self to confront it, so their brokenness does not blindly shape their life. Second, broken and damage adds flavor, uniqueness, and depth. Another song goes, "You might have fewer scars, but I'll have better stories" is absolutely true. I have found that those scars create depth of character and more interesting people. We love your scars! Third, to truly be able to be sympathetic to another, you have to have experienced struggles of your own. We want those who can be genuine, very real, and deeply emotionally naked with us as kinky people and vanilla ones too. If you cannot know the path we have walked, how can you truly "be" as real as we need you to be. Fourth, broken and damage leads to alternative methods to "cope". For whatever reason, it has been my experience that those who are slightly broken and damaged, have the deepest craving for kink. Could it be because they have found their healthy coping mechanism in their kink? Could it be that really letting go in the lifestyle is easier, deeper, more fulfilling because the kink, quiets the voices, eases the pain, brings the sensations that triggers that dopamine rush they need? Perhaps A causes B, who knows? Perhaps? Important: We will never take advantage of anyone. (That causes further abuse or harm). We respect each other, create a supportive environment, and are ALWAYS SAFE and SANE in our time together. So as long as it is healthy, we love help each other cope! Those who might hear manipulation or abusive use in this fourth aspect, know that is NOT it. Fifth, we are stronger together. In our House, we care for one another. Master is a Daddy, and Babygirl has a strong Mommy streak. There is big time nurture aspaspects going on here. We support each other. We care for each other. Our style of blending kink and vanilla lends itself to supporting each other. This is a value of our House that we take very seriously. So YES, we learned long ago that we connect the most with those who are slightly broken, slightly damaged. Our House will always be a safe (and exciting) place for you

The meal The table was laid.  It was an important dinner party, but the table wasn’t overly fussy.  It was going to be a simple meal: the steak already in place on warm plates at either end of the six-seater table, wine in the goblets and terrines of buttered vegetables in the middle.  One plate was set between the other two chairs.  Chairs which stood, side by side, along one of the longer sides of the oblong table.  Next to the plate were two glasses of water, a plate of small cubes of fresh bread and crudites and a dish of oily, dark balsamic dressing.  The lighting came mainly from the open door to the kitchen and the two tall candles on the table. Two women stood, close but not touching, each behind one of the chairs.  They were dressed the same: black heels, black stockings, black suspender belt, but they looked different.  One was significantly taller than the other, and much curvier.  The curvier sub had dark blonde hair which fell in a straight curtain down her back, the other had shiny brown hair which fell in soft curls just past her shoulders.  The brown-haired sub had pubic hair, neatly trimmed very short.  The blonde-haired sub was completely bare.  Both wore a narrow black leather collar around their necks with a metal ring centre front.  And both wore leather cuffs with a similar metal ring around their wrists. Two men entered the room and both women stiffened.  Each one cling their elbows tighter behind their back pulling their shoulders back and pushing their breasts out; nipples already erect from anticipation and from being exposed.  The older man walked towards the blonde haired sub and turned her collar so that the ring was at the back.  He threaded a chain through the ring and attached it to her cuffs; holding her wrists in place behind her waist.  Each man pulled out a chair and motioned for the women to sit. Suctioned to the bare wood of each chair seat was a dildo, glistening with a thin coating of lube.  It wasn’t very long, maybe only 4” but it was a little thicker than a standard dildo.  Both subs placed themselves over the dildos and slowly eased themselves into their chairs.  The blonde sub could feel it slowly stretching and invading her cunt and she felt heat spread up her belly.  She turned to the older man and gave a barely noticeable smile.  The older Dom said “You are not to speak unless spoken to.”  “Yes sir,” replied his sub recognising the smile in his eyes behind his stern words. When both women were seated the two men took a moment to check the state of their sub.  The older Dom placed his hands on his sub’s shoulders.  He gently ran his fingernail down her back.  He heard the intake of breath, saw her breasts rise and felt her rock slightly forward – dildo inside her and clit bumping onto the hard surface of the wooden chair.  He let his hands glide down the swell of her breasts, pinching each nipple between his fingers and using them to lift her heavy breasts; feeling their weight and seeing his sub rock forwards on the seat again.  He gave each nipple a playful, sharp flick and the second Dom said to his sub, “Feed her first.”  Both men sat down and began eating as the brown-haired sub, with her hands still free, turned to the blonde-haired sub and smiled. The meal continued.  The men and women talked normally to each other.  The shorter sub fed the blonde sub bread and vegetables, dipped into the balsamic dressing.  Whenever a small drop fell onto the lip, chin or breast of the blonde sub, she kissed or licked it off.  After a while the blonde sub began to squirm noticeably in her seat. When the next drop fell onto the top of her breast the brown-haired sub leaned forward and grazed her tongue over her nipple before catching the drip.  The blonde sub squirmed again and moaned aloud, the dildo deep in her cunt, her clit swollen from constant bumping and squirming on the seat.  “I told you not to speak sub.  Are you such a slut that you can’t eat a meal at the table without moaning?”  the older Dom spoke sharply but quietly.  “Over the table now.” The blonde sub eased herself off the dildo, ging again as it left her cunt.  She walked, wrists still bound, to the empty edge of the table, opposite the other sub, and leaned her body over it, feet shoulder width apart.  Her Dom could see her slightly gaping, wet cunt.  Without warning he stuck two fingers into it and everyone at the table heard how wet it was.  Removing his fingers, he rubbed her juices over her swollen clit and gave a quiet chuckle at the low moans his sub made.  “I think she needs more tonight,” he said to the younger Dom.  From out of his pocket he took a metal butt plug with a flared base.  The blonde sub could see that it was her medium sized one; the one she had been wearing recently for periods of time outside the house.  Her Dom applied a little lube and then she felt it pushing gently but insistently against her arsehole.  As she felt her arse open and suck the metal bulb in, her Dom grabbed her hair, turned her face towards the other Dom and delivered six sharp smacks to her arse.  She felt the heavy metal plug jolt inside her and she closed her eyes and moaned with arousal and embarrassment.  After the sixth smack he pulled her upright by her hair and delivered another six slaps to her breasts, three on each.  She felt them bounce and her hard nipples screamed in pain, making her g and cry out.  “Sit back down and finish your meal,” her Dom said. On wobbly legs, she returned to her seat.  As she lowered herself back onto the dildo she felt an exquisite fullness as the dildo rubbed past the plug in her arse.  The brown-haired sub had been eating but, at a motion from her Dom, she began to lick and suck the blonde-haired sub’s sore, engorged nipples.  The sensation was arousing and soothing but, desperate to make no sound, the blonde-haired sub closed her eyes and tilted her head back.  Focused on allowing the soothing attention.  She didn’t notice that she was already rocking her clit against the wooden chair seat again, but the two men did… Mar 28, 2020

Experienced as a dominant but have not had a full time submissive in my life for a long time. The desires to find a slave wife that enjoys dollification and rough play have become stronger over the last few years. A submissive that I can build a life with and that will connect with me in many different ways and in all the aspects of my life. Desire a full time situation within a 24/7 connection and desire. Very interested in age gaps, interracial relationships, small women, and deep levels of submission/devotion. Some vanilla interests:Ren FairsMedieval Combat Groups (SCA, Dagorhir, and similar)Role-playing GamesGaming Conventions (GenCon, Origins, and Gamehole Con)AnimeCosplayScience FictionPhilosophyPsychology (I have a bachelors in Psych) Live a fairly average life outside of my Kink areas. Desire a fulltime situation where kink and dominance is an inherent part of our day to day lives. Would enjoy a submissive that wants to be the stay at home domestic in a 1950s style relationship. As well as being a sweet little one that I can spoil and take care of in many different ways. Open as well to different dynamics depending on what fits our needs. Feel that play is for good times and obedient slave girls. Punishment is not being allowed to play. There is more information on my profile and please feel free to contact me if you are interested in seeing if we match.

This site has been a part of my life since 2009.  I have grown and went through many life changes.  My Husband is My Master. We rarely go into Master/slave mode but when we do its what we need.  I realize real serious bdsm is a lifestyle not play and Him and I are far from vanilla. We are deeply spiritual and energy aware so even if we are not practicing what most view as bdsm we have a deep dynamic.  We have been hit with many things over the years . There is always wave for every person. Ours seemed giantic lol but we are together.  I was owned by a Master for ten years in the past. I can see clearly now so many things about that time in my life. There are regrets but we cant go back. It was never meant to be something I could have as a real life in all ways. I wish I would of known myself more but it led to what I was suppose to find. It taught me many things. There were times I thought that It was not safe and I never trusted. I wish I could talk to him but I dont think that will ever happen. I understand why. I really think He thought I was something that I never was . The mind web was so layered I will never know. I rarely wonder anymore because I know I will never get answers.  So I am here...I am just here . I have a few friends here and there that log in. 

I have, in the past 6 months, been messaged by 2 different men who had something about raceplay in either their messages or in their profiles.  Allow me to be perfectly clear: any racial slur, race play, homophobic slur, misogyny, or domination from any aspect of supposed genetic superiority is a limit.  I grew up having various slurs directed towards myself, family, and friends and they are a quick way to have me block you. I mean the following in an honest and non judgemental way: if you have those desires, I would encourage you to look into your personal history and see why you have those desires or urges and honestly discuss them with a licensed professional.  It is often a product of internalized hatred towards yourself or others through no fault of your own.  Talking with a professional will help you to a much happier place where you can feel more comfortable with yourself and others. BUT, do not send me messages with any form of racial, transphobic, homophobic, or misogynistic slur in them.  It will lead to me immediately blocking you and reporting the message.  Having anything about race in your profile (other than your own) will result in a short message and me blocking you.  You are only harming yourself and it's a hard limit for me.  Consider this your one and only warning.

I was in an open relationship with my ex gf for 5+ years. And I was deeply in love with her. In fact, she was my first love. We didn’t break up for any reason in particular, but perhaps it was the distance - I had moved to the Bay Area and she was traveling back and forth to the East Coast. Years and years ago, we had a funeral back in LA to attend together, so I was staying with her and her family during the time I was in LA. What she doesn’t know about that week is that her brother tried to jump my bones on a day we were alone together after a shower of mine. It caught me completely, completely off guard, and felt totally out of left field. Despite how stunned I was, I had to shut it down (for a multitude of reasons).   However, she happened to tell me a few years ago that I’d been the friend of hers that he’d always crushed on. Makes sense. We’re a few years older than him. I was around more than any of her other friends when we were younger, and I often drove him around quite a bit. I drew a lot of attention from guys, anyway, and she and I were mostly in the closet around family, so it’s unlikely he was even aware of the two of us.    She’s married with kids, living on the East Coast now. I live back in LA again. We get to hangout together when her family migrates to the West Coast for winter. But I also started spending time with her brother again last year. It’s become apparent that he still wants me.    And now I want him, too. 

I am dumbfounded by the number of female submissive, on this site, who in an act of straight out dominance insist on integrating a core component of the vanilla lifestyle into the lifestyle developed from the writings of the Marquis de Sade. Especially, when that vanilla component is the antithesis of The Marquis' work and why he theorized women were too inhibited to wantonly explore their complete sexual response. De Sade observed that emotional love was like a drug (turns out to be oxytocin) that wore off and eventually left the woman disenchanted as her resistance to the hormone built up and the man’s efforts to re-create the first dose becomes more and more difficult. To the point, that eventually, the man quits trying and seeks out a woman who will fuck him like his wife did initially and validate his efforts. So now, the women has a legitimate reason to look elsewhere for that dose of that initial oxytocin. Which only happens a few times in each relationship, and if it happens, it’s always happens in the beginning. And, the more she gets of it (oxytocin) the more immune she becomes to it’s affect. This means, that by building on a foundation of emotional love, women are essentially setting a time bomb underneath the relationships entire foundation, as well as inhibiting their own sexual being.

On Jealousy in the Master/slave Dynamic Jealousy is a corrosive force within a Master/slave relationship. It is the enemy of structure, the destroyer of authority, and the betrayer of trust. Where jealousy exists, leadership falters. A Master’s role is to stand as the embodiment of certainty and command, yet jealousy undermines this by planting insecurity where strength should reside. Insecurity breeds suspicion, suspicion breeds resentment, and resentment fractures the very foundation upon which the Master/slave bond is built. A jealous Master ceases to lead with clarity. Instead, he reacts from fear, clouding judgment and weakening authority. The slave, whose role is to serve in confidence and devotion, becomes hesitant. Obedience shifts into caution, and devotion turns to apprehension. A slave cannot flourish under the shadow of jealousy, for it suffocates the freedom of surrender and replaces it with doubt. This is why jealousy cannot be tolerated—it disrupts the natural order and erodes the respect upon which all dominance rests. Furthermore, jealousy is weakness exposed. A Master must be the anchor, the standard, and the pillar of certainty. To be consumed by envy is to show the slave that his authority has cracks. When a slave perceives these cracks, reverence diminishes, and the Master’s position is compromised. Authority that bends to jealousy is no true authority—it is performance without substance. A Master ruled by such impulses becomes no more than an equal to his slave, which destroys the hierarchy. Correcting Jealousy The cure for jealousy lies in discipline, self-mastery, and reinforcement of order. Several steps must be taken: Uncompromising Honesty – Communication must be enforced. A Master must demand full truth from his slave and give unclouded truth in return. Jealousy thrives in silence and shadows; it dies when exposed to the light of direct speech. Reinforcement of Structure – Protocols, rituals, and rules must be upheld without compromise. When order is maintained with precision, the framework leaves no room for insecurity to grow. Clarity in expectations eliminates confusion, and clarity weakens jealousy’s hold. Practice of Self-Mastery – A Master must control himself before he can hope to control another. Jealous impulses must be recognized, acknowledged, and dismissed without indulgence. This requires discipline, reflection, and the will to remain above base instincts. Methods such as journaling, meditation, or ritualized reflection may be employed to strengthen the mind. Seeking Counsel – A wise Master does not fear counsel. Speaking with experienced Dominants or mentors provides grounding and perspective. No Master diminishes himself by learning; he diminishes himself only by refusing to correct weakness. Commitment to Strength – A Master must remember at all times that jealousy is beneath him. It is weakness, and weakness cannot lead. The slave must see strength that does not waver, for respect and obedience are born only from confidence in the Master’s unshakable command. Final Teaching Understand this: jealousy is incompatible with mastery. It is a betrayal of the title “Master” itself. Where jealousy reigns, authority is false, and leadership is hollow. Only through discipline, honesty, and unyielding strength can jealousy be eradicated. A true Master confronts it, defeats it, and stands as the anchor his slave requires. Let it be known: a jealous Master is unfit to lead until he masters himself.

Still looking for the sub husband.  He: is 30-50 yo have no kids of any age is not a bore is in good shape knows how to make money and at the same time does not flaunt his wealth is not sissy We still can discuss your age. Don't be shy and DM me.

6 Minths Post 6 months post break up. Post world upside down post everything. The what if is strong for some reason  If I'd come home early and just started packing, said i know you've been cheating, I'm done. If I'd stopped fighting sooner. If If If All of them don't matter, it's done now. I am sorry I put you to the side I'm sorry your drinking got so badI'm sorry we lost us.I'm sorry I wasn't enough.

As required by my Dom, I publicly declare the following: I am subMeghan, and as I type this this, I am completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… Today’s Journal Topic Is: Why The Fuck Haven’t I Posted Any More Journal Updates! I actually get this question a lot.  Unfortunately, that’s part of the problem.  Apparently, you guys are actually reading my journals!  And why, pray tell, is that a bad thing? Well, I’m going to tell you… When I first started journaling here, I wrote as if I was speaking into the void.  I wasn’t writing for an audience, rather I was writing merely for the sake of publicly letting my inner thoughts leave my body and go forth into the vast e-universe.  I thought I was just a “voice in the wilderness” to be lost in the chasm of anonymity. It was a stream of consciousness, a flow of thoughts. It was kinda like talking outloud to yourself, not thinking anyone was listening. However… that was not the case...  You were listening.  And now you all had access to the part of my psyche that I kept hidden away, kept in the shadows, away from “polite” society.  And worse yet…  You had questions! I had mistakenly thought that CS was just another fetish website that was here today, and then be gone tomorrow like so many other sites.  Boy, was I wrong.  LOL I stopped writing because I became very self-conscious.  VERY self-conscious.  I quickly ran away from the spotlight as soon as I felt it’s light upon my exposed soul.  Who the hell am I to have the audacity to think I have anything of substance to say to a listening world? I have never liked being the center of attention.  I am a wallflower, the kind of gal that always stands at the edges of a crowd.  I am quiet, reserved, and passive.  I am a watcher, an observer - not a performer.  And certainly not, heaven forbid, an extrovert! Over time, I’ve been able to reflect.  I’ve decided to start posting again.  I suspect the tone of my journal entries will change, much like Schrodinger's cat, now that I am aware that I’m being watched.  We’ll see.  I will let this journal entry be the start of a new chapter in subMeghan’s ongoing adventure. Here’s to the journey! subMeghan    

 recently met a vanilla guy that had been a drug addict for more than half of his life. He has been clean for 5 years. This is information that was shared with a perfect stranger within the first 5 minutes of conversation. (I appreciate the upfront honesty, but damn.) From what I learned about him, he was easily swayed by previous lovers and enjoyed being a "doormat." Without knowing My kinky hobbies, he disclosed his desires to be owned by a Dominant Woman.qIuestioned his ability to be involved in a kinky lifestyle relationship without it being totally draining on the Domme. Although I wasnt even going there with this guy, the last thing I want is a overly needy person in my life.Has anyone else run screaming from someone that just oozes insecurity and extreme neediness?How long would someone with an addictive personality actually be able to make it in a kinky relationship with YOU?

People ask me how I met my owners with all the fakes and players who are online. The following is my story. So you know, Master James had a massive stroked and passed away this year. The details are in my journal.Now, before we start, I am happily ownedI searched here and ALTcom for five years finding fakes, etc A friend of my was an INSEX model in those bdsm videos She told me to check out DomConDomCon is a twice annual BDSM convention The cities vary from year to yearAnyway, I went to the one in Atlanta and was looking around Fakes and liars dont seem to go to real conventionsAnyway, I was a single woman trying to get a table at a crowded restaurant at a huge convention Simply put, they didnt want to seat a single when they were turning tables of two or more A couple who had been in line behind me came to the hostess desk and changed their request to three people The lady smiled and asked me to join themGreat dinner, great conversation Three weeks later I sold all of my possessions in Vail, Colorado and moved to serve them in VermontWe have been happily living as Master Mistress slave and last November fifth was our eleventh anniversary as Master Mistress and slaveSo, keep the faith and consider going to a real convention You will be amazed at how many real people there actually areBest to you in your search,slave janet

Twisted Cheshir Madness 2.0 Let the One true Twisted cheshir Lead you into the darkness and down the rabbit hole.... Here we goooolooking for friends and whatever more may come with is this this world .. my name is cheshir i am the one and only .. So come and join me in this journyava name TwistedCheshirLet Madness Guide you into the ever lasting peace that come with it

a bolder post, a bolder call to the sacred sexuality warriors of light of both genders. hold the mother fucking line. if you dare       as this awareness came to me i knew it wasn't something personal and needed to be shared. but i had a hesitation. what i share is already hard to understand...and this one can make even the most aligned buckle....but then i breathed and said i'm a splenic projector thats a juxtaposition with a cross of assimilation. if i am NOT talking about things that will be rejected by 99.9% of people i'm NOT doing my job. and i breathe and take a deep dive into the waters. we rose from the filth. we rose to the highest of heights. we've seen things that will make most want to end it all and yet here we are. we touch the heights of pleasure beyond what mere mortals understand. those risk takers those truth sayers. those people who play on the edge that have people praying for them night and day. and yet we know there is truth in those edges we consciously touch potentially getting burned. even little girls like me, have a vicious primal gross and disgusting streak in us. it's the dark empty void. for us girlies of all gender identities it's the dark goddess and in the men it's the dark god. but there's a deeper layer.....a lot of us are stuck in that fleeting, passionate, tempered vibe..and playing higher, rougher, deeper, stronger, more intense...that can get you stuck in the sauce real fast. the sauce of the 3d world of tradition and structure and organization that keeps you small. there's a higher angelic fiery demon class out there......beyond the constraints of passionate love. we're here to master a spiritual, esoteric, cosmic, and divine sense of sexuality and love. and hold it...hold it for dear life as the rest of the earth is stuck in this not BAD..but denser, complicated, more painful and stagnant vibe of love and sexuality. a lot of my dark goddess aka alternative sophia energy ladies are wanting to stay in the sauce and tussle with their alternative dark god michael energy and keep the cycle going. but i've risen above in the clouds into the starseed light of absolution. and it's haughty..it's haughty because radical detachment and a commitment to continue knowing i am human..i will have slips, i will fail, on earth i am not completely me...but the journey is to always return...the lessons and the landscape and the cosmic story is there...if you DON'T GET IN THE SAUCE be the observer...the lover the fighter the warrior, the dying the living, the exalted....touch feel breath smell taste feel ache scream cry hit claw explode...but always come back to love. ai no message. the fixation on the cohabitation the family the kids the stability the structure the compromise is what keeps us stuck. pure absolution and the focus of self mastery first and a deep unyielding commitment to each other is the way. if you choose to be apart of this rat pack. and it's only elite because you'll be pushed...pushed over and over and over again.....you'll start where people say they would hate to be apart of this..they can't imagine living like this..they'd rather DIE. and yet here you are.....living breathing..maybe because you had no choice.but maybe you deep down did and know even in the darkest of the dementor days there's a gem and a lesson and an ascension coming if you just hold on. people mean while you're fellow dark beings of love(not violent, not demonic, not manipulative....but dark and raw and scary and righteous not afraid to shank a bitch if necessary) are still caught in the sauce..it pulls it down. but then...returning and holding the line rises....it rises you to the clouds, to the sky, the ocean, the galaxy....the dark with flashing lights so wide the purple violet flames of transmutation........the comets and the energy balls bigger than one can contextualize....and you're there...... it takes grit it takes everything and then when you have nothing else to give..it takes only perseverance in something you can't even imagine is there...just one foot in the other..beyond weary beyond done.....no hope..and yet something deeper pulls you forward...to hold the line. deception is slink seductive, it's chemically altering, it's what everyone else is literally doing...it's acceptable....passionate fleeting love and sex is the drug..........if you choose. not bad..but it keeps you saucy in a sauce that isn't even tasty. some of us warriors are meant.... TO HOLD...THE LINE. and i really wrote most of that outside of myself......into something deeper behind just little twin stars space talking. this is what i originally came to say. HOLD. HOLD STEADY, HOLD TRUE. FOR LOVE, FOR LIFE, FOR LIVE. FOR THE FIGHT, FOR THE FOCUS IS ALL ON YOU. TO BE TRUE TO THINE OWN AND TO BE TRUE THINE HEART AND THINE COUNTRY AND THEY SACRED SPACE TOO. FOR WHEN THINE IS TRUE TO THEE ,THEY SHINE SO BRIGHT. HOLD STEAD SOLDIER, HOLD TRUE....HOLD THE LINE. HOLD THE LINE AT ALL COSTS. EVEN AT THE RISK OF YOUR OWN LIFE. HOLD THE LINE! FOR GODS SAKE(the tetra god, now the gendered ones) AND THE SAKE OF OUR CURRENT FREQUENCY AND DIMENSION ON EARTH. HOLD THE ENERGY, HOLD THE DIVINE. THE WORLD DEPENDS ON IT....YOU DEPEND ON IT.