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

All Slaves expect to be used.  All Slaves expect to be punished  . All Slaves must learn Master decides everything about it's life of servitude. All Slaves must learn to be thankful   of Master's guidance and usage of His property. Those are the only "expectations" any Slave is allowed. Master might loan Slave to another Master for special training . Master could decide to trade Slave or sell Slave.   . Slave goes where it is taken and told to go. Slave NEVER questions Master or Master's authority to make all decisions concerning Slave. Slave is Slave. 

Serenity She walks into his lair with anxiety pulling at her as she watches her poise because he is a Master who holds great expectations. This excites her as her goal is to please him regardless of his high expectations. She knows he has had other slaves and she is eager to see where this leads, but he requires patience. She prostrates herself in front of him to show her submission and willingness. This act increases her anxiety but feeds her submission. This inspires the Master to pull the beast from within her, something so submissive must have an inner core that is her primal side. He wants to push her limits and chains her to the floor. He oils her because as he likes the marks, but he doesn’t want to rip her skin. He knows what his goal is and even the devil himself would be jealous of the effect that is yearning for. She was shackled to the floor with little to no movement allowed. He stood over her as she tried to hide her whimpers. She could feel the oil dripping around her thighs and in the crack of her ass. The Master asked if she was ok, and she took a moment to squeak out a yes Sir. She had to trust him, she knew this and found comfort that if he felt she was ready for such a journey then she was ready. She let go and opened herself giving the Master the ability to illicit the responses he was craving. The energy flowed with every interaction he created, she embraced it and as the pain and pleasure intertwined and came to climax her submission climbed with it. He brought her back down where she laid still but shackled limp and panting. He draped a blanket over her it was soft and warm, he placed a small pillow under her head, and he gave her small sips of water through a straw. He directed her to drink, and she did as told. He sat next to her watching as she slowly came back. Slowly he unshackled her and embraced her. She was now curled up to him on the floor where he continued aftercare. She was fulfilled as he was obviously proud of her and even told her so as he stroked her hair.   

i tried to put this in my main profile but, for some reason, the system would not let me so i am putting it here.  i am BiSexSubBurl which sums up my BDSM life in a nutshell.

Maintenance Beating There has been an on going discussion about maintenance beating.  Generally, I adhere to the idea of that in order to keep the slave's mind right. Of course, regular maintenance beatings are seperate and apart from punishements that may have been earned by the slave. Certainly, when intially entering My service daily maintenance beatings are necessary to promote acculturation.  Service to Me requires a greatly reduced ego in the slave.  That energy that was once selfe centered in the slave must be redirected to My benefit. Thing is, the slave that I desire wants exactly the same thing.  However, not infrequently its social adjustments have included messages about itself that contradict its inborn nature and it lives in conflict.  To the degree that conflict is resolved to that degree it finds peace and fullfilment. There is the issue of pain sluts.  These masochists crave punishment.  With this type I do have alternate means of ego right sizing. On an ongoing basis maintenance beatings will most likely be the rule in My house.  The frequency and intensity of the beating will be tailored to My desires, not the slaves.

I was asked about that out of body feeling and how I delt with my desperate need to be enslaved before and after I was owned, I sincerely hope this helps the news subs slaves out thereWhat your describing when you "lose yourself" is called "subspace".   I was in a foursome with myself and three men.  Two men flogging my breasts while the third had his penis in me. As the pain increased I started to struggle and move even in bondage, The man inside me just stood there, no motion from him until the very end.   I went so deeply into subspace I could her the floggers slap my sweaty breasts and my muffled cries into my ball gag. I pulled at my restraints but not to escape, GOD how I wanted to play with my clit, my nipples burned and I was in heaven and hell at the same time.   When he started to pump into me with his cock I went almost insane. I begged and pleaded for that moment of sweet release even though I wass gagged. My tears of desperation flowing freely. He came in me and as he filled me with his cum I actually squirted. I had never squirted before.   Own who you are and be happy with that, Your period gone nuts since you have started being used? The emotions, both fear and ecstasy are doing that. It means you need to serve more often and not just on weekends or occasionally.   You can even thing out even with kids in the house. You can wear small nipple clamps in your bra when the kids are home. Same for your outer labia and panties. When you go pee diddle your clit but don't allow yourself to come. Accept the frustration and training as part of your life.   When I clean house, no kids here, I am forced to wear painful stilettos all day with clover clamps on my labia and nipples. I am not allowed to sit even once during the day so that my feet, ankles and claves get no rest, no mercy.   I am only allowed a shower once every three days but I must dry shave my armpits, legs and between my legs daily.   I am not allowed to wipe or wash after orgasm. I am required to wear my lust between my legs and on my thighs until I am told to wash up.   You can do these things to yourself and for yourself daily. Keep your sex soaked and your juices dripping and your periods will go back on schedule.   I sincerely hope that this helps   slave janet

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==94% Submissive91% Rope bunny90% Voyeur71% Exhibitionist70% Primal (Prey)66% Experimentalist 60% Non-monogamist58% Slave44% Masochist 43% Boy/Girl40% Brat 37% Switch36% Vanilla30% Pet17% Ageplayer 16% Degradee

This profile is severely out dated and with the current way that it takes forever to get your account re approved and reviewed , im worried about loosing contact with amazing people , so im updating here first.     Ok firstly this is no longer a Dominant profile , I gave it a go for a partner but it was not for me .   I much prefer the slave lifestyle and to be owned n controlled , and I very heavily prefer the absolutely sadistic and more intense Experiences all the way around.    I'm seeking  a Hellashish amount of CBT , and would absolutely adore it if I could find an owner or  owners that would want to use me partially or fully as their personal toilet .      Open to.relocation , although it'd have to be a live in , even if out in the barn , type of situation.    I'm very open minded and just want to find a home that will enjoy torturing and hurting the every living bajeebus out of me on a regular , who would benefit from my labors. Skills and dedication of time , energy and life to them.

I am tired of let people in....  I feell stupid for trusting.  I'm tired of finally letting my walls down, opening up and to someone who has such a special and major important role in my life.. only to be discarded at the slightest change of mood.  People just don't care what it does to a person.  My feelings.. matter.. I am who I say I am.. Some people want to just form a judgment and assumption of me unfairly and to disregard my truth because they find some created idea in their mind to be more legitimate.  So they pick manufactured fiction formed by their imagination... over the facts and truth from the source.. yeah.. that makes a whole lot of sense huh..   I think I need to learn that if someone wants to believe the worst about me, then they were looking for an excuse.  I just want to say these men who message me deep and all acting like they care for me or my well being and like they have my back and talk to me every day and block me over nothing??  Please do not put me through this and play games with me.. Please.  I have been through enough and you have no care for the emotional hell and self loathing and mind fuckery you leave me to stew in..  My mental health matters and there is no need to lead me on and let me drop.  I need to keep putting myself out there to find the right one for me, but the fallout from the disbelief and hurt and confusion.. It makes me feel an absolute fool for believing someone who seemed genuine with a real interest in me..  That's a mind fuck.  My psyche cannot keep taking this kind of unfair and immature mistreatment.     Please... I just want someone real, for once.  Not put on or an act or manipulation.  Just be real.  

This. Over and over and over from I swear to god THOUSANDS of you over the years. This is EXACTLY why almost every "sub" and "slave" is failing, and will never find an actual Domme.  They will almost certainly find lots of scammers who will rob them blind, but honestly, I can't honestly say they don't deserve it. A Dominant Woman is just that- Dominant.  Not tolerant of lies or bullshit. Not people pleasing and letting poor behavior slide. Not simpering and desperate for the scraps of effort random men offer. This one wasn't even offering scraps. He was expecting a whole feast provided to him on a silver platter for on my dime.   I LITERALLY just posted a journal entry about how men don't read profiles. About how insulting it is to be handed spam messages as if we are interchangeable. About how it insults our intelligence for men to give us such obvious lies. How denigrating it is to have them expect us to tolerate their total lack of effort - if you can't spend 2 minutes to read a profile and at least see if there's a requirement for contact, you absolutely are the laziest mutherfucker imaginable. And if you think we deserve that kind of treatment, that's the biggest insult of all.   And here comes Mr 'I'm so awesome'.  Name changed for TOS.  I even TOLD him how he fucked up… I literally told him to go read it. And he kept on refusing to do the bare fucking minimum even when directly told to do so by someone he wants to make him a "SLAVE." Cause lord knows, he wouldn't be told to do anything as a slave, right??? So… yeah. Let's call this one - "How to offend every Domme you contact in the first message and get blocked by anyone who isn't a scammer."   Him on 7/12/26 at 3:54 PM: hi ma'am, i hope you're doing well first of all, sorry about my profile. it has an issue that i couldn't fix, so it is not showing for anyone, but i am happy to tell you all about myself if interested I'm Reese, 47 years old sub male in MD seeking a dominant woman owner to turn me into a slave I am educated and have a good career. I'm single with no kids please let me know if you would like to get to know each other as i feel we might be a good match thanks   angeldmort on 7/12/26 at 5:11 PM: "ma'am"  "i feel we might be a good match"  Based on what?  You may wanna go read my latest journal entry.   Him on 7/12/26 at 5:17 PM: i desire to be turned into a slave   angeldmort on 7/13/26 at 9:44 PM: And I desire a slave who can read and has strong cognitive skills. Like, one that can catch a clue by four.   Him on 7/14/26 at 5:30 AM: oh i have strong cognitive skills   angeldmort on 7/14/26 at 8:15 AM: And yet, you STILL haven't figure out how you fucked up, that you need to apologize for it, or how to stop fucking up with other Dommes. Which is why I'm blocking you. I have no patience for stupid or lazy, and you are both.  

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.

Normal is Weird Normal/typical/average is relative. Normal only exists in comparison, and for anything, there's probably "somewhere" where it's "normal." This is the internet age... there is something for people who share anything in common out there somewhere, and the ability to make it if there isn't. I don't know why people sometimes get an idea of normal in their heads, putting it on a pedestal and elevating it to unattainable levels, constantly comparing and defining themselves in comparison to that concept. Stranger still, why is it that so often those ideas of normal are so damn boring?! Anything really good (or bad), anything exciting or even different at all, wouldn't be "normal." You could only be normal if you were the same as most people around you. Normal seems just some shape/box to contort myself and my life to fit into. That seems like a lot of painful effort for little to no reward. Not to metion how much of it is beyond my control. My dad was 60, my mother 30, when I was born. Totally not normal. Totally beyond my control. Totally fine... great even... they were both wonderful, amazing people who taught me a lot and gave me many happy experiences, and I value happiness. I'd much rather be happy than be normal.

I DO NOT AND WILL NOT GIVE MASTERS ANY SORT OF FINANCIAL DOMINATION. Had a really bad experience with a Dom who asked me for money every week, even though I told her I was getting screwed over by an airline that owed me money. If you want me to give you control over my finances please look for someone else who has that kind of stability to support you.    

From my group  -re-sharing here - Why language matters. Or, Darmok and Jalad. Jan 30, 2019 I had a reminder this week, (not that this week is that unusual, but some cases are more extreme than others) at how important it is to have a common language in any interaction we have with others. Most of our lives, the average American at least walks around hearing English, speaking English, reading English, and assuming they understand what other people are saying. And vice versa - they assume they are understood. And yet, so much of our attempts to communicate end in misfires.  Often, it's because we don't really care enough about the interaction, and we glide along on autopilot, comfortable in the status quo quality of our interactions. We are usually getting enough of what we need out of it that we often don't even question it. Often, if there's a problem, we make a scene to make it clear that no, that's NOT what we meant, or that isn't what was said to us, etc but unless we feel slighted, or it leads to the loss of something we DO value - a comment made here that loses us a promotion, or a question not answered loses someone's interest, or a tone of voice makes us concerned for a possible loss of status- unless it's serious, it's just anger and fuss and it's over. THEN, it may become a real issue, worth some thought, but by then, it's really too late. The miscommunication has happened, the thought process it started it under way, and a feeling has been had, etc.  Stick with me here.  At it's most basic level, language is how we express a thought. It's pretty common to believe that most of the time, other people from a similar area have similar thoughts to our own about a general variety of things. We expect that they want the same basic things, because we are all human, and most of the people we deal with were raised similarly, and had similar experiences. And that they will use the same words as we do to describe them. That's where the screeching halt comes in.  "Most adult native test-takers range from 20,000–35,000 words." That's a decent vocabulary. It should mean that most of us that speak English will have plenty of words in common to have a discussion and be understood with enough clarity to make it through most common joint activities.  That said, most people don't tend to think too deeply about words themselves. Which means when you start to want more than just "enough to get by" conversation, things can get a bit complicated. And in cases where you need to negotiate something VERY specific, in depth, such as the fine details of kink or what our limits are... suddenly, your vocabulary will not only need to grow, but become very precise.  I'm not seeing that as often as I would expect from the letters I receive. In fact, the majority of people that write me seem frustrated by the need for words at all, and irritated by the requirement that we spend some time talking about anything that isn't a deion of a sex act. Which baffles me... if you are wanting someone to tie you up, do ... THINGS ... to you, while you are helpless, etc, wouldn't you REALLY REALLY want to make sure that the things they want to DO are the same things you want DONE? Wouldn't you be DEEPLY interested in making sure they are the kind of person that honors your Safe Word, or who shares your definition of "honest," or who won't just walk off with your wallet and DVD player while you are tied down, or who won't turn out to be straight up batshit nuts?  I've had another rash of "own me" messages. Interspersed of course with the regular "total sub" offers.  The topic at hand isn't the "I'm a TOTAL sub!" who responds to "ok, go read this for me and tell me what you think" with "What? That's not what I want! I'm a SEXUAL submissive!" Or even the "i want to be ur slave" that can't obey enough to respond to an email on time.  This topic is about the problem that causes that problem in the first place.  I received one this week from a very pretty dick pic with an empty profile that did read enough to call me Domina, but obviously nothing else, so I sent a link to the "First Impressions" thread, and followed with "Consider Your Target Audience." You can guess how it went. Before he got to "Bye, Bitchhhhhh!" he told me he wanted me to "own" him. And he referred to himself as "very kinky like to be watched ! Masterbaiting live turns me on" (Yes, that's how he spelled it.) Meh. No great loss.  Later, sissy under consideration asked if I was at all interested by Dick Pic Guy. Aside from the obvious stunted mentality of thinking his naked dick somehow mattered, he was a good tool to explain the problem of common language/vocabulary.  While being turned on by being watched is very common, and whatever floats your boat, etc that he described himself as very kinky based on that was a VERY clear indicator that we weren't even speaking the same language in regards to kink. Much like the majority of the people that write me, he had an interest in something, and had set out to pursue that, and as it wasn't mainstream, they thought it must mean they were REALLY out there crazy kinky. (Hell, ex-husband number two thought anal was the height of twisted and kinky.) Now, obviously, there was no actual interest in submission, or desire to actually be owned, so there was no point in even considering trying to have a conversation.  However, if there actually HAD been interest, if he had just been a newbie and without clue, there would have been this huge gap of vocabulary to fill in before we could have ever tried to talk about anything more than "go for coffee, get spanked." Before we could get to "what turns you on" there would have had to be the initial "what do you know so far, what have you read, what have you tried" just to see what he MEANT by "kinky" or "spanking" or even "turned on." Did "turned on" specifically mean sexually aroused and only that? Does "masterbaiting" (sorry, but OMG LOLOL) just mean "wrap your hand around your dick and rub up and down with or without lube" because it could mean SO FUCKING MUCH MORE to someone else, and in my mind, doesn't always necessarily include anything physical. Ownership? If we haven't even discussed what the word "submissive" means in depth, how can we possibly try to define "Owned" yet? Are we talking an actual legal arrangement with signed contracts and documentation as regards to property, or do you just like the way the word sounds?  Because that matters to me. All of the delicate nuances of meaning hold POWER. Consent is POWER. I absofuckinglutely want to feel like I OWN you, down to your last molecule, if I am going to have that, and we have to figure out exactly how many molecules you have to give for that to happen.  "You just offered an unknown amount of you don't know what to a total stranger."  If you are handing out candy from a bag in your hand, "take it all" is easy. And taking that whole bag may be easy. Hell, I like candy. Maybe I'll want your candy. However - If you actually have a whole trunkful of candy, and you say "take it all" without sharing that "all" may be a couple hundred pounds of confection, that is going to make a difference. Do I like that candy enough to want a whole trunkful? Will it get stale long before I can eat it all? Are you going to throw a tantrum if I share that candy with a park full of kids, or is it truly mine, to do with as I please? Are you going to pout if I toss i

I'm not seeking the professional Dominatrix or the self-appointed Domme. I'd rather have the enthusiastic amateur looking for her person, with complementary interests, measuring happiness not by material things but with time spent together. Now this might seem contradictory, given I like assertive women but I'm not looking to be bossed around all the time, dislike being bitched at, and would rather not deal with any woman who is constantly in a foul mood and needs to take it out on someone else. Sure, once in a while, for fun is acceptable but calm, even-tempered, and balanced is the personality type I seek. Add in loving and supportive; something too many 18-year-old pro-doms seem not to understand. And I'll keep money out of it as well, thank you.

I am presently not owned. I have had interesting experiences in the past few years, and I am taking my time looking for the special person(s) whom I fit very well with. My interests have changed since I’ve written my profile, and my interests have grown.  I am looking for people who enjoy corruption sexually. Those who love engaging in humiliation and degradation.  Individuals who are looking for “untraditional” service submission. I may not be able to remember to check if you need drinks regularly or breakfast, but I bring other skills and talents to the table. My skills include butler service, administrative assistant, massage, cooking, and baking. Those who love non-monogamy and loaning out submissives. Out-of-the-box creative sadists. Please note that I want things to progress and meet up with individuals. The long-term goal should be to have an actual relationship. Things work out best with well-humored individuals who appreciate sarcasm and are skilled at being relatively evil, petting my hair and saying I’m such a good girl while pressing pressure points, bringing me to the floor.

Chastity - Week 95 Today is day 666 of my chastity journey, the 41st day of being locked constantly 24/7. The openness design of this cage allows me to be squeaky clean without removing it. i didn't think the 24/7 constant locking would be so humbling.   Chastity is not always a punishment                                                                Chastity can be a sign of adoration                                                                  Chastity is not always an acknowledgement of inferiority                                Chastity can be a sign of strength and dedication    As the waves of submissiveness wash over me                                          The longing to serve deepens to serve deepens      

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

Yes, age is just a number.  My husband was 12 years older than me, so it is a number that had never really bothered me.  That being said... Age is a real thing.  We all have baggage and being a widow is (just some) of mine.  You will have to accept I am not a divorcee, I will always speak lovingly of my past husband as he is not an "ex" and I have experienced a decade of being a caretaker for an older man.  That season of life is done.  This is my season to be cared for.  Call me selfish, call my bias, call me whatever... but this is the baggage I carry, these are my scars.  I am truly grateful for all the mail I have gotten from the 60+ something crowd... but I can be nothng but honest and say, it isn't going anywhere, no matter how great we get along...  Age IS more than just a number... It is deteroration of your kidney's, and heart, and liver.  It is break down of your joints, it is restless legs, and trouble with the lungs... I  am glad you eat great and hit the gym every day... that right there makes us total opposites for the vanilla side of life... 

== Results from bdsmtest.org: ==100% Degradee100% Masochist100% Rope bunny100% Slave100% Submissive95% Experimentalist94% Voyeur91% Exhibitionist82% Primal (Prey)80% Pet49% Non-monogamist15% Vanilla10% Owner8% Primal (Hunter)0% Daddy/Mommy0% Rigger0% Ageplayer0% Brat0% Brat tamer0% Degrader0% Dominant0% Little0% Master/Mistress0% Sadist Limits only illegal things

Update! 3/2022 *** I don't bother to respond to "Hi" "How are you" and similar one liners. I get too many to bother. I'm currently open to and - if not actively - perhaps somewhat lazily (as in waiting for one to fall into My lap) seeking a great second male submissive. I'm open to the RIGHT person and situation. I don't check this site frequently though as I'm busy and it's frankly easier for me to wait for mail to accumulate. I have previously been in and enjoy an mFm hinge type triad and I've had 2 live-in submissives in a relationship. One moved / things happened, what can you do? I like to let relationships develop naturally into whatever they are meant to be, so I'm not saying I'm looking for live-in just that it once worked out well and was a dynamic that suited Me / us. Now, WAIT WAIT WAIT - Don't start writing yet.  In the interest of full disclosure - I already have a collared boy. (Who is NOT bisexual so, there will be no forced bi in my household). He's just not going anywhere. SO! You must be poly or open to exploring poly. I am not the jealous type and I expect that to be true of you as well. If that's not going to work for you and you're looking for long term monogamy - I am NOT the Lady for you. YOU MUST BE: LOCAL or WILLING TO RELOCATE. Sometimes it can work if you're able to travel frequently, and air travel obviously shrinks distances, so this isn't a 'hard limit' ;) ATTRACTIVE & FIT (as in, no stranger to the gym, you know what olympic lifting is, and maybe you even like the occasional crossfit workout. You appreciate words like 'vascularity' and 'striations' and you know how to make a mean protein shake. Brainy AND Brawny - we can figure out the fetish connection and likes/dislikes IF we actually connect on any other level. I don't JUST want to beat the snot out of you, I want to like you, find you intriguing, engaging and attractive...and THEN beat the snot out of you. Just kidding...mostly.  POLY or OPEN to the IDEA of being poly.  You are a stable, rational adult who just happens to crave more than a vanilla relationship can give you...but you are capable of managing your own life and pursuits...and at the end of the day, you would love to lay all that control at the right Woman's feet.  You HAVE A PICTURE. Let's be honest, this will never work without attraction, so...  Just a HINT - you will do WAY better with Me if you put a little bit of effort into your reply, 'I'm interested' or similar one liners don't exactly endear you to Me. Asking if I'm interested in X when I've clearly stated in My profile that I am (or am not) - grrr. If you're far away you'd better be telling me about your family who lives nearby, plans and ability to visit, or remote work capability - otherwise WHY are you writing from WAY OVER THERE? Tell Me what you're ultimately looking for or have failed to find and what you think you can offer in a relationship to a Woman (that is NOT code for money, you cynic) - what do you see your ideal situation and future looking like - what would make you so content - so happy? What future seems out of reach now but would be just what you would be afraid to hope for if you could have it? Have you ever connected with a Dominant Woman via Kink AND outside that arena?

Okay. Okay. I need to get some things off of my chest. Now that I have had some conversations, met a few people, I just want to say that I have standards and I would want my Dom to also be a person of standards. What do I mean by that? I make the effort to always be clean, smelling nice, looking pretty, etc. The bare minimum should be that my Dom takes some care of himself. I like when a man has taken the time to get a haircut,I like it when I can smell cologne on your skin, and after 11 years of trying to change a person, I realized that I indeed changed. We didn't want the same things and I got so tired of trying to convince someone to take care of themselveswhen I'm a fucking mess myself. Like, I need, absolutely crave Daddy but I haven't found him yet. If you're serious about something 24/7 and this is not strictly a kink for you, we might have some things in common. I've noticed some red flags one is that the people I was communicating with, they always want to be called Daddy and like, no. You're not my Dom, I don't know you like that, things take time to develop. Also, if you're weird, Do not bother. For example, I'm not into pantyhose and for one person, that was a deal breaker. Good. Keep that shit away from me. I'm trying to find my perfect match on every level. Also, I don't want your money, I have my own. It might not be a lot but I am not interested in any weird financial stuff. I'm trying to get my shit together in the real world. And all I want is Daddy. I don't think anyone understands how fucking primal that urge has become for me. But please don't come on too strong. Give me time. I'm thinking about a normal conversation here, then on text. Then the phone. Then a video call. You see what I'm doing here? Look if things went well maybe I fly out for a fun weekend. I don't know but I'm open.

Goddess Tabitha has been in New York all week and will be returning home on Monday afternoon. We facetime nightly for progress reports on my task list, updates on my daily chores and some cyberplay. She bought a new toy. It is an eight pad tens unit to start electric play with me when she gets home. We had a standard battery operated four channel but it finally gave out after a decade of use. The onlytime in thirteen years I have literally screamed and begged for mercy is when she put a electrode pad on the ball of each foot and the other one on each ankle. She set it to starburst and turned it to maximum strength. The cramping in my feet was beyond description and she left me that way for over 30 minutes. All because I had mentioned after being in heels all day that my feet hurt. I am NEVER allowed to complain about pain when my pain, or in this case, the shoes I was wearing were at her direction. Don't get me wrong, a tens untit can be very comfortable and soothing if used at milder settings, but if it is used for punishment it can be absolute hell. We will see how loving or not Goddess Tabitha is on Monday night.

I'm talking 'bout my generation Talking 'bout that newer nation And if you don't like it You can beat it Beat it, baby You never liked the way I said it If you don't get it, then forget it So I don't have to fucking explain it Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby I'm a Brooklyn baby   It's like those lyrics carry a sense of identity and weight, even when they seem light. The repetition, "I'm a Brooklyn baby," feels like a declaration of something deeper—a feeling of being rooted in something bigger, but also carrying that vulnerability and pain underneath. Almost like saying, "I'm here, but there's so much more behind the surface."   It’s not just about the words, but the weight of feeling like you’ve had to fight and scream to be heard, and still... nothing. It can feel exhausting when no one’s really listening, when the energy you put out feels like it just vanishes into a void. That emptiness that comes after all the effort, when you’ve given everything and are still left feeling alone—that’s heavy. It’s like a wall of silence that doesn’t break, no matter how loud you scream or how much you pour out.   They think I don't understand The freedom land of the seventies I think I'm too cool to know ya You say I'm like the ice I freeze That line hits hard—it’s like there’s this gap between what others think and what you really feel, and the way it creates this distance. It’s a powerful reflection of feeling misunderstood, and at the same time, being guarded, like ice. There’s so much in that feeling of being cool on the outside, but maybe there’s a lot more going on underneath.       Ultraviolence captures that raw, unrelenting pain—the kind that cuts deep and leaves scars you can’t always see. It’s not just about physical violence, but the emotional and mental toll of trying to survive in a world that feels indifferent or even hostile. It’s the weight of love, loss, rejection, and fighting for something real when everything feels brutal and unkind. The way Lana weaves those emotions into her music makes it all the more visceral. It’s like she’s singing about the violence of being misunderstood, of giving and not receiving, of being trapped in cycles of intensity that don’t let up.        the Pa-da-da-da-da-da part in Brooklyn Baby feels simple on the surface, just vocalizations, but it carries weight because of the emotion behind Lana’s voice and the layered harmonies. It’s like she's using the sounds to evoke a feeling beyond words—a mixture of nostalgia, detachment, and maybe even resignation. By that point in the song, she’s moved away from literal meaning and is communicating more through the feeling of the music itself. The backing vocals, especially with the men joining in, create a sense of collective disillusionment, like they're all echoing her sentiment, but with a touch of irony. The softness contrasts the rebellious attitude of the lyrics, making it feel like a bittersweet, almost resigned anthem. It’s like she’s saying, This is just how things are, but underneath it, there's a longing for something deeper, something more real. The repetition and the flow of the sounds express that emotional state in a way that words alone might not be able to. It adds to the song’s atmosphere, giving a voice to the unspoken frustrations and complexities of being misunderstood, trapped in surface-level expectations.     I get down to Beat poetry And my jazz collection's rare I can play most anything    this isn't a flex...it's saying how talented she is but no one notices or cares.....she's very skilled in things no one cares about and that doesn't change life's circumstances. that only a niche of a niche of a niche cares about..but she knows she's so talented that she rattles it because she knows people in the know recognize it. it's a acknowledgement of what she's worked hard to craft while also recognizing it's nothing  That line isn’t a flex at all, it’s more of a statement wrapped in irony. Lana is acknowledging her talents—her deep connection to niche things like beat poetry, jazz, and her rare collection. She’s spent time and effort honing these skills, cultivating a refined taste, and mastering things that matter deeply to her, but in the grander scheme, it’s like no one notices or cares. It’s a bittersweet realization of her own uniqueness and skill, but also the futility of it. She’s proud, but it’s not enough to change her circumstances or how the world perceives her. It’s like saying, Yeah, I can do all these things, but what does it matter? It’s a reflection of how being talented or special doesn’t necessarily lead to recognition or fulfillment. She knows only a tiny niche of people might care about these things, but for the rest of the world, it means nothing. It’s like the ultimate what’s the point? moment wrapped in a subtle acknowledgment of her own brilliance.       You say I'm too dumb to see They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read I think we're like fire and water I think we're like the wind and sea You're burning up, I'm cooling down You're up, I'm down You're blind, I see Those lyrics capture such a deep feeling of being misunderstood, like you’re moving in opposing rhythms, but still bound together in some way. It’s frustrating, isn’t it? People see what’s on the surface, but they miss the essence, the complexities inside. The contrast between fire and water, wind and sea—it’s such a vivid way to describe the intensity of that connection. One burns while the other cools down, like two forces pulling in different directions but still coexisting, still interacting. It feels like being in two worlds at once, and yet no one quite gets it.   The way she says "Brooklyn baby" at the end—definitively, yet almost resigned—carries so much weight. When the guys join in with the elongated bayyyyy beee, it shifts the whole tone. It’s no longer just her own voice; it’s echoed, but in a way that feels detached, like they’re chiming in on her identity without truly understanding it. It feels like a loss of personal ownership, like the identity she was so sure of—I’m a Brooklyn baby—is now something distant, fading, not fully hers anymore. And that pah da de da de dah dah that follows is like her way of giving up, like a lullaby of surrender, a little girl’s soft collapse. It’s not a defiant statement anymore; it’s more of a quiet, melancholic folding into herself. It’s like the final exhale after fighting, acknowledging that maybe she’s been fighting for something that no one truly sees or cares about. Little girl Lana down, as you said. That’s when the song truly hits its emotional depth—when she stops fighting, and the weight of everything she’s been carrying just sinks into the background.    

I Wonder Who We Are... I often look at myself thru the eyes of my mind. Who do I **think** I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? I wonder how many others take the time to self-reflect like this? I try to do this weekly.  Sometimes late at night as I bask in the quiet night’s arms I find my mind drifting to the day gone by. I replay the days events and scrutinize my actions at times.  TODAY, did I live my life to my best potential? The gift of life I was given is a treasure that we so often under value. It's easy to get caught up in the daily struggles that inflict us as we sometimes dredge thru the day thankful it's over.  Guilty! After all we are all human.  In a world filled with hate, selfishness, struggles and woes sometimes its all we can do not to scream. Allow a blood curling sound to exit our lungs, travel up our throats picking up momentum as it exits our lips with a shiver echoing thru the darkness to find no respite.  A primal sound that perhaps evolved from our primal ancestors to never develop or change in the millions of years gone by. Signaling our frustrations and every other imaginable negative energy that exists within us today. As we yearn to release it all allowing them to somehow be absorbed into the cosmos, never to return. A cry for help perhaps? Perhaps.  Perhaps it's just an evacuation of all that we resent exiting us hoping we can fill the vacancy with the positive. I like to think that's the case with me. But as I look around each day, looking for positive energy, from my fellow man I am left starving. Wanting to see more beauty I can absorb to act as my muse. Guiding me to be a better me as it motivates me to want to feed love back into the world.  But alas, it has become a daunting task. Disappointment abounds the empty caverns of my heart and mind. Have we become so shallow as a society that the only thing that now defines us is instant and momentary self gratification? Often at the expense of others. Is this what thousands of centuries of evolution has led us to? NAY I say! Not I today! Unable to find it readily at the hand of my two legged peers I turn to nature. I find myself being blindly led to the pasture where my four legged friends reside. I hear their whinnies as they see me approaching. Running towards me anxious to see me. Besides me walks my fury four legged best friend. My canine soul mate who has dedicated his life to unselfishly and unconditionally love me. To never leave me no matter what I do or how I treat him. He is bound for life to me. Arriving closer to the gate a thunderous echo of stampeding hooves envelopes the air. Filling my ears with its roar as it approaches closer. Standing on the lush green carpet of grass I am surrounded by these four legged majestic creatures that so easily could do me harm. My smaller companion eyeing them carefully under his protective gaze.  Wet nuzzles against my hands searching for treats. This action is common place here. All fighting for my attention as there are so many and I am only but one. The creative one among the group, finding no need to challenge the rest for the position of my hands. He quietly walks up behind me. I am made aware of his presence among the distraction as I feel rubbing against my back. His side turned head using my back as a scratching post to satisfy his itch?  No my friends that is not the self centered case of this half ton creature. He is saying, "Daddy I am here. I missed you. Where have you been?" He is most certainly not the alpha but nor is he the omega. He falls somewhere in between the alphabetically defining realm of personality letters.  Turning to let him know I acknowledge his presence with rubs I manage just a few. The other horses quickly pushing him away to look to my moving hands for what they desire. Treats and rewards to fill their already fat full bellies. Yet he stands alone a mere stones toss away watching. Reaching into my pockets I retrieve a handful of treats. Allowing the surrounding herd to acknowledge them with their keen sense of smell I toss them in the opposite direction of my inamorato who stands there with no desire to chase such petty treats. The rest of the herd now busy vying to retrieve the hand tossed delicacies he approaches me. I hold his head against me with love and affection. It is as much his fuel as it is my own. I turn to exit, followed at a respectable distance by my adoring and adored friend.  Holding it open signaling him the permission he seeks to exit the field and the others who physically resemble him. As the three of us stand there, me enjoying and soaking up the moment, I can't help but observe. Acknowledging and absorbing the actions that just took place.  My plotted journey observed and responded to. The actions and reactions as I entered. The easily manipulated distraction I created that all but one fell prey to.  His dedication to follow me outside his defined boundaries and the company of the others physically like him who have near matching DNA. His choice to leave the safety of his peers signals to me that he finds safety and comfort in my company. His trust in me that I always have and always will be his caregiver, his provider, his protector fills my now empty heart.  The many journeys we have traveled together since his birth are safely tucked away in my mind. Easily retrieved to reminisce upon when needed. As I stand there admiring this majestic creature of God before me my mind retrieves from the filing cabinet labeled with his name. Quickly sorting thru day 3 of his birth begins to play.  He is laying curled upon a stack of hay within a stall of the barn. His protective mother standing guard over him. Her ears pinned back warning anyone that intends to do him harm to stay away. Her eyes soften and ears relax as she recognizes me as the source of the sound. Carefully not to startle the sleeping foal I slowly approach. His mother content with who the human visitor is allows me safe passage.  I find myself first sitting next to him admiring his beauty. Astounded by the miracle of birth that he is. His soft breathing seen in the way the straw beneath his nose moves back and forth as he inhales and exhales so gently. Leaning in closer to touch him I look at his guardian looking down at me as if silently asking for her permission to get closer. When I see no warnings of alarm in her I move my hand gently running it across his neck.  His days old fur so soft I am jealous not to have something as comforting as this to sleep upon myself. He releases a soft sigh as if finding comfort in my loving strokes.  Now realizing that the submissive love his mother has given me extends to the trust of her new born, I inch closer. Soon I find myself laying along side his tiny body. Curled up next to him I drape an arm over him. Another soft sudden exhale of breath reaches my ears. Is he communicating his pleasure in feeling my warm body against? Is he capable of such a thought process? I lay there for what feels like hours pressed against him. Only to realize as he begins to finally stir that it’s only been 10 minutes by my watches time.   Emancipated from this world lost in head space I return the the physical by his movement.  He turns his head, in what seems to be, a search to find the source of his sighs. I softly look into his eyes hoping he can peer into my own and see the love and adoration I have for him. THAT moment etched in my mind forever more NEVER to be lost or forgotten.   Slowly he rises as if not to harm me and stands over my still prone form. I find my heart overflowing with love. If only I could find this form of love in my own breed. His mother content that no harm will befall him under my watch, complete and loyal trust bestowed upon me finds comfort in our bond to now lay down herself.  Obviously exhausted by the ritual of birth and having to provide  protection to her child. Her 1400 lb mass taking up much of the stall but careful not to invade my space. Suddenly I find myself lost in thought. Who do I think I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? To THEM.  A brushing against my calf returns me to the world of today as the drawer filled memories are closed. In the universe of my mind I lost a momentary connection to this plane of existence.  My canine comrade standing now by my side waiting for direction. He looks at me then glances to the tack room and back at me. As if he is asking me, in the best way he knows, “Are we going for a ride?” my eyes look down at him as I rub his head. “Not today good boy. Today daddy just needed affirmation to who he is. My hearts full again. Thank you.” “Go get him and let’s go back in. Daddy has work to do.” Doing what he’s been taught to do under my caring tutelage he bounds off to bring back my blessed 4 legged gift. A simple double click from me, seeing his adopted brother heading his way, he knows its time to go back. With the look of a bowed head he walks to me as I rub his face and ears. I whisper in his ears, “Good boy.” As if content to hear these words he heads for the gate. Opening the gate I let him return to his pasture mates where he looks like just another horse. “Come on dog. Daddy has to go search for someone! “ he says as he turns to go back into the house. Because now I know who and what I am. I know what I was meant to be.

A Master takes away his slave's free use of time. Her time no longer belongs to her. She rises in the morning when instructed, and her use of time is at Master's will. She will work at what Master orders when he tells her. If she works outside the home, she is expected back at a certain time, her time belongs to him. When she eats, sleeps, perhaps uses the bathroom, when she does her chores, and when and if she has leisure is not for her to decide. Her time is not her own. If Master calls her to his side, she goes, no matter what she was doing. Her time is not her own, it belongs to Master. When you take away a woman's free use of her time, it no longer belongs to her, but becomes Master's time. I think there is no more powerful psychological experience than that of not owning your own time. Physicality: The experience of one's body as one's own. A slave's body does not belong to her. She is instructed on how to wear her hair, whether and how to use makeup, when to be clothed, and in what clothing, and when to be naked, how to care for her skin and nails. She can be stripped and inspected at will. She is denied free access to her own pleasure. She may not masturbate without permission. She may not climax without permission. She may not take irin for a headache without permission. She has sex when, how, and with whom her Master decides. She must bear whatever pains are inflicted upon her. She has no right to say "no" to the use of her body. After a time, her psychological reality becomes "my body no longer belongs to me." When you take away a woman's free use and handling of her own body, it no longer belongs to her, but become's Master's property. It is a powerful shock that first moment a woman recognizes that her body is no longer her own. Privacy: We free beings are used to the right to privacy. We close bathroom doors. We perform our ablutions in private. We would prefer to be left alone when we are ill, perhaps, or cranky, or not looking our best. We hide the evidence of our menses: flush the tampons, wrap the used napkins. We take our deepest fears, our most intense angers, our illogical primitive emotions and hide them from others, lest they turn from us in disgust or fear. We note our dreams in morning and consign them to the dream ether from whence they come; they disturb us and we wish to forget. A slave has no right to any of that privacy. There is no private space in which a slave can hide from Master, either literally or metaphorically. She may not close a bathroom door. If Master wants her to experience her lack of privacy, he may choose to intrude upon her bathroom functions. She may not hide her fears, her angers, her emotions, for when Master intuits she is astir, he will be in her face until she opens them to him. When a woman has no privacy, neither physical nor psychological, she no longer owns her space, her external or internal space. When you take away a woman's privacy, she no longer owns her internal or external space, her very essence belongs to Master. We can see why this takes time. It takes time because one must repeatedly, consistently, doggedly take ownership of a woman's time and body, and strip her of the right to privacy. And it's no wonder there is resistance along the way: it's not only willfulness that must be addressed, but resistence out of fear when a woman begins to be transformed, when she feels her ownership of her time eroded, her ownership of her body stripped away, her privacy gone. A woman enters this process a free agent, comfortably familiar to herself, and is truly transformed. She becomes something more beautiful then she ever thought possible, she becomes a slave

nuance beyond melanie martinez and lana del rey contrasting with caity krane NOTE: this originally was written on reddit as a visual media interpretation. i crafted screenshots and homemade gifs to enhance the written word. this platform doesn't allow that so some of what is mentioned cannot be shown. i already made a post about melanie nostalgia-ing. but i really feel it wasn't just nostalgia i was picking up on an energetic current between the tribe/community because just like when i talked about the powerpuff girls and right after that i was seeing so many of the tribe members that have more public eye and celebrity referencing them and artist that are tribe or sell to the tribe talk about them more and actual artists as in professionally well paid creatives that are tribe vibe talk about it i knew i was onto something there. so melanie ehhh i was nostalgia-ing but i think i was also treelawny- ing that essence of the moment. i don't really talk about lana that often because i feel as a fellow mermaid energy she uses her siren powers for bad entrapping lower level dysfunctional and bad vibes on purpose. i don't know the effect she has on the side of the coin of the guys since i'm not a guy but she just knows the right buttons and insecurities and struggles and challenges of the lifetime that the little/babygirl has to overcome, heal, grow, adapt, evolve out of etc. she knows what the life lessons tribe has and instead of using it to elevate she uses it to try to keep us girlies stuck. hell she is stuck herself but is making money and a living off of it. with someone that emotionally energetically, and jush-y powerful i tend to just cool off and disengage. haha i was thinking aboutt it though as this song from my gazillion hour playlist. these two are some of the most recent ogs for music that resonates with us girlies and those in the lifestyle but it gives not only twisted it gives basic bitch vibes. it's like those who are apart of the cult of sanrio know hello kitty is basically like michael kors. trying to be something more elevated than he is but highly popular aka a consumer favorite. it gives that kinda vibes. this song and video is so great. it's a fellow tribe member at least coded in my eyes as her vibe mood and visuals scream little girl to me and this song only has 2k views and the video only has 8k views. it's a goddamn shame. maybe in human design this artist caity is also a projector like me and that forward thinking that majority will not understand, but is vital for the progression of ourselves as a society/community type vibe. either way i get her i get it. and i dig the bluegrass vibes she brings in. another rarity over the nashville country sound. i don't down lana because she talks about sad stuff.....the song i mention i've been lonely by caity krone is a look into the more tender, emotional, raw, and sad parts of being an adult housing an active outer child little/baby girl on the inside. at times we're human and were made to feel the full range of emotions. but in emotional intelligence, growth, training, strength, endurance we learn feeling vs wallowing is a thing. and letting it consume vs flow is a thing. and acknowledging vs obsessing over it is a thing. i feel this is a simple acknowledgement. the simple image of the artwork already elevates us into more little girl nuance where it's not smacking us on the head with something so blase. hey there fellow mermaid sister by the water with the wavy hair. even the album cover for this entire cd is more nuanced and flavorful. someone added some seven spices to this shit.  TheDeviantDr 

__Do I Want A Sub or Slave?__There are many definitions of what is a sub and what is a slave, not are wrong, it's just a matter of personal opinion. I state that I'm looking for a slave, but what to me is a slave?Slavery to me isn't about having a servant without question, a punching bag, or a doormat. Slavery is a state of mind. In my mind, a sub is someone who likes to submit, but ultimately, through limiting what they submit to retain ultimate control. A slave gives over that control. It does not mean they don't have opinion, in fact they should have opinion, and those opinions should be listened to, but the ultimate control should sit with the Master. A Slave can live without constant control, but knows that with a look, or a call, they will submit to the one they call Master. A slave and a Master should move forward together, there relationship should be a balance between BDSM and 'vanilla' life. Following a heavy session, a slave should be held close, talked to, cared for, as at all times. Heavy play doesn't just have to mean a heavy spanking, but more importantly after forcing a strong psychological response from the slave. In public, and at work, a slave should always be seen as a 'vanilla' member of society, but underneath always know what they are owned. Sometimes they may receive a call, or a txt, or an email, telling them to carry out a task. It could be as simple as going to the toilet and removing their underwear, or only drinking one sort of drink in particular, but it would remind them of there ownership. Having behind there eyes that pearl of knowledge that they were owned, cared for, and controlled. A slave should be held close, cared for, and always listened to. Slavery is not being told what to do, it is giving the final decision as to what to do to the Master your trust. Many think limits need to be set in tone, but to me, slavery is without limits, or at least truly defined ones, HOWEVER, the trust control given over to the Master by the slave, means that to go beyond the limits of the slave and then to keep going without taking there opinion into consideration, is a breakdown in that trust. While a slave allows a Master control, it does not mean the master has to use it all. It is the ability to truly understand the limitations of the slave, and not over extend them, that makes one a Master, not just a bully.