littlerabbitgirl 

 Captive Desire   The night was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. Olivia Bennett sighed, shutting her laptop with a soft click. Midnight again. She stretched, rolling the tension from her shoulders, and glanced around the empty house.   Jake was away on business. Connor was at a sleepover.   It was just her.   And then—a sound.   A soft, deliberate thud from the garage.   Her pulse spiked. She sat still, listening, waiting. The house held its breath.   Another sound—this time a scrape, like something dragging across concrete.   Her heart hammered as she stood. Probably nothing. A box falling, the wind knocking over the broom—something harmless.   Still, she grabbed her phone and padded downstairs, flicking on the hallway light. The garage door loomed ahead.   She hesitated.   Then, hand trembling, she unlocked it and stepped into the cool, dimly lit space.   The scent of motor oil and dust filled her nose. Her car sat untouched. The shelves were undisturbed. Everything looked normal.   A sigh of relief left her lips—   And then the light went out.   Darkness swallowed her.   The shift in the air was immediate.   A presence.   Her breath hitched.   Before she could move, strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her back against a hard, unyielding chest. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.   Hot breath tickled her ear.   “Shhh,” a low, masculine voice murmured. “Don’t fight it.”   Her pulse slammed against her ribs.   She struggled, kicking, thrashing—but he was too strong.   A thick cloth pressed to her mouth, something sickly sweet invading her senses. Her limbs grew heavy. The world tilted.   Darkness.   She woke to a whisper against her skin.   The air was thick, warm, carrying the scent of something rich—cologne, leather, danger.   She stirred, wrists bound above her, ankles tied to the posts of a bed—his bed.   Her breath caught.   The room was dim, candlelit, casting flickering shadows against dark wooden walls.   And then—him.   A man, clad in all black, standing at the foot of the bed. A mask hid his face, smooth and featureless, but his presence was commanding.   Powerful.   He trailed a gloved hand down her leg, slow, possessive.   “I’ve been watching you, Olivia,” he murmured. “Waiting for the right moment.”   A shiver coursed through her.   She should be terrified. She was terrified. But beneath the fear, something darker stirred. Something she didn’t want to name.   He knew.   His fingers traced the delicate lace of her nightgown, teasing along the hem.   “I wonder,” he mused, voice velvety, “how long you’ll resist before you give in.”   She swallowed hard. “I—I won’t.”   He chuckled, low and knowing. “No?”   His hand moved higher.   Her breath hitched.   Her body betrayed her.   Heat pooled in her core, a flush rising to her skin.   He leaned closer, breath fanning over her lips. “Your body says otherwise.”   She turned her face away, but he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze—though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt his dominance.   “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.   She parted her lips—   But the words never came.   He hummed in approval. “That’s what I thought.”   And then his mouth was on her, claiming her.   Possessive. Insatiable.   A captor. A stranger. A master of her pleasure.   And she let him take her.   Over.   And over.   Until she forgot what it felt like to be free.  

Freebeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeees... In speaking with many here, the reduction of stessors often comes up. Check your Thyroid TSH levels!  Mui importante! The Science of Breath - life changing, affirming and regulating! https://www.yogajournal.com/yoga-101/science-breathing/ https://www.unm.edu/~lkravitz/Article%20folder/Breathing.html#:~:text=Respiration%20Mechanics%20102,to%20the%20lungs)%20respiration%20occurs. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC6137615/   Girls and guys - want to know when a woman bleeds every month?  Know her birth day.  This is a golden nugget of knowledge society keeps us from knowing in order to keep us enslaved, fearful and reactionary.  There are variables, of course.  Stress....hormonal imbalances....medications....being in close proximity to other women, either in family or work.  If the other women are more dominant, they will set another womans cycle off or if their birth day is near to yours, then they can trigger yours.  You're welcome.

Smh at the multitude of bois within 50 miles that approach, engage,  insist they want to meet .. until we set a date and time, then backpedal and postpone or cancel with every excuse in the book .. Sooooo...I'm pretty much at the pt I don't wont cant believe anything anyone idk irl says cyber.   If you are one of the very rare pearls here that does want real-time Ds interactions come meet Me at the munch on Thursday 9 29 at Spins in Peekskill 6:30ish. It's an arcade with a bar in the back. I'm the One with long multicolored hair. .. restaurant upstairs is Fin and Brew if that's easier to goo gle Que sera .. or as history here proves, most likely not We.Shall.See

It's the down days, with the beating sun and the drawn shades, keeping the outside out and the inside in...the days where the tears finally grab hold and the tissues are everywhere. It's the days where one pm could be 10 am or 730pm and none would know, for i remain alone, always alone. My friends are few and far between. My heart landed on the curb and i keep waiting for someone to pick it up and hand it back, though i know better. It was stolen and now it doesn't fit in my chest anymore. So whenever i breathe the sound is like an empty drum for the beat does not even echo. The hurt is like a neon glow in the dark super ball that just bounces from surface to surface, so i can't quite steady it, or myself. It's still light outside. My watch never made it to my wrist. And luck flew like a hummingbird, out of sight. And the man i love...cannot love me. So i sit and pretend that once upon time i was happy and once upon a time i will be, again.   zamarra/aka eslavegirl 7/14/24

  Joining a M/s (Master/slave) poly house in modern times requires a deep understanding of the dynamics and expectations involved in such a relationship. If you are interested in joining a M/s poly house, the first step is to educate yourself about the lifestyle. This can be done through reading books, articles, and attending workshops or events related to the topic and talking to the house members. Do not  hesitate to ask questions, it shows interest and it will help educate you about the house you are talking to.  It is also important to consider your personal boundaries and what you are comfortable with in a relationship. It is essential to communicate these boundaries clearly with any potential partners. Joining a M/s poly house requires a significant amount of trust and communication, so it is important to establish these qualities with your partners and the Master of the house.  Once you have a clear understanding of what you want from a M/s relationship, it is time to start looking for potential partners. Online communities, such as BDSM or fetish dating sites, are a great place to start. You can also attend local events or workshops to meet like-minded individuals.  When you find a potential partner, it is important to take your time getting to know them and establishing a strong connection. Communication is key in any relationship, especially in a M/s poly house, so it is important to make sure that you are both on the same page.  It is also important to consider the legal and social implications of joining a M/s poly house. Some communities may not be accepting of this lifestyle, so it is important to be prepared for any potential social or legal consequences.  In conclusion, joining a M/s poly house requires education, self-awareness, communication, trust, and a willingness to be open to new experiences. It is important to take your time and make sure that you are comfortable with your partners and the dynamics of the relationship before committing to it. Additionally, it is important to consider the dynamics of the existing M/s poly house that you are considering joining. Each household is unique and has its own set of rules, expectations, and dynamics. Make sure to ask questions and have open and honest conversations with the members of the household before making a commitment.  It is also important to establish clear communication with all partners involved in the relationship. This includes discussing expectations, rules, and boundaries with all partners. This helps to avoid misunderstandings and conflicts within the relationship.  Furthermore, consent is a key ect of any M/s relationship. It is important to establish clear and explicit consent with all partners involved. This includes discussions about what activities and behaviors are acceptable and what are not.  It is also important to have an open and supportive network of friends and family, as well as access to resources such as counseling or therapy. These resources can help you navigate the challenges and difficulties that can arise in any relationship, especially a M/s poly house.  In conclusion, joining a M/s poly house requires a lot of thought and preparation. It is important to educate yourself about the lifestyle, communicate openly with potential partners, and establish clear expectations and boundaries. Above all, it is important to prioritize your own comfort, well-being, and happiness in any relationship.      

A Raven and a Wolf   He sat, kneeling really, slowly panting, under a soft leather hood. It was laced tightly, almost preventing his every breath. And in the darkness, under the hood, he strained his ears to hear whether she was near, or far. He inhaled, trying to find her scent, but could only smell the leather of the hood. He tried to feel if he could sense her presence closer, but nothing. The air was still. His mouth, dry from nerves, with lips slightly agape, didn't utter a sound.   So he waited, arms bound, shoulder back, chest forward and exposed. Uncomfortably upright.    She sat before him, watching him lazily, like how a cat does with a weakened mouse, very still. A hunter and their prey. She was breathing evenly to hide the excitement pooling inside of her. Hands encased in buttery soft lamb skin gloves, the color of his hood, the color of her whip, the color of blood. The color of her lips. A red so beautiful. Her eyes sparkled at the idea of it coming from his body. Beautiful and broken. She could sense he was searching for her; a slight turn of the head, listening, perhap? Leaning forward gently; trying to smell? Like a dog, she thought, just like a dog. And she sat there far longer than even she desired to see how far this "dog" would go.    "Bark, dog" she commanded in a low voice  And he barked immediately, no hesitation. She pulled back her hand and slapped him, his head jerked, body lurched, chest rising and falling rapidly. A noticeable difference between his legs. There it was again, a hunger to bite into him. Taste his blood. Consume him. But only silence. No whimper, no moan, not a sound escaped him. She wondered if he were bleeding from his cute little mouth. Again she slapped him. Softer than the first, a loving caress, bits of his hair peeked through the laces of the hood and she wanted to grip them and tear them away. Would he let her? Perhaps.    The next slap, and the one after, opposite hand, and he fell forward just enough that his face touched her thighs only separated by the hood and her own stockings. The rule was he wasn't allowed to touch her unless she said. This was a broken rule, however accidental. She stood and let him slump forward in a stupor, supported only by the tension of the rope tied to the foot of the bed.   Bark, dog. Dog. He barked.  Up, dog, and he returned to his previous place, exposed and upright. She stepped forward, the toe of her shoe pressing down on the sensitive flesh of the head of his dick. She crushed it gently until he sat even straighter. She held his head in her left hand, caressed it gently, leather on leather. The smell intoxicating her. Raising her right hand she slapped him again, over and over until her hand grew hot even under the glove. Was he bleeding? She hoped so. She hoped to kiss him and bite his lips and taste his blood. She wished she could see his eyes, dazed, glassy, far away. She caressed his head. And whispered, "you may touch me" and he pressed his face into her hands, her thighs. Still no sound, he was so silent.   "Bark, my handsome boy" and he barked, hoarse and painful as she encircled his neck with her hands. This was his idea, he had inspired in her a lust for choking him until he was nothing and drifting away in the ether. She squeezed, her hands perhaps too small, until he gurgled. She wondered if his eyes were open or if they were dimmed. The hood obscured so much. She squeezed until he seemed to go limp. And she let him. Shoulders yanked uncomfortably under his weight.    He awoke. Arms aching, face hot but no longer enclosed by the hood. He could see her though his vision lacked acuity. She was standing over him, wrapped in pink except for gloves. He yearned for them then. Yearned for them to be around his neck, feeling the bones of her fingers threatening his very life. He wanted to ask for it, for her to choke him, strangle him, but knew it was to her whim that he obeyed. Obeisance was her pleasure. He looked at her, eyes soft, left cheek swollen, lips split ever so slightly and she leaned down and kissed him, sliding her tongue over the drying blood. He kissed her back, gentle, but hungry.    Her kiss was soft but grew more passionate until she bit him and suckled his mouth. Did he love this part of her? The softness before the sting.  She broke the kiss. Her lipstick perfect but her mouth and chin stained crimson with what must have been his blood. "Open your mouth, I'd like to try" she said softly. A shy whisper. So unlike the command to "Bark".  He angled himself upright, head back, lips parting painfully like a little bird. She leaned forward and let her own saliva pool in her mouth and slowly let it fall into his. He shuddered. His excitement excited her and she kissed him again before he could even swallow but this time it was wild and wet. Her saliva all over his mouth, chin, cheeks.    "I have to whip you now, are you ready?" She asked and he nodded. A question was not a command to speak. Dogs do not speak unless commanded to speak. She untied him and his body fell forward. Not used to its old range of motion. His limbs buzzed from having sat in one position for too long. He wondered about how much time had passed. Funny thing, time. Why did it matter now when he was in the moment with her.   Without the hood he realized he could smell her. A warm sweet scent, perhaps arousal. And he thought then about being forced to please her like they talked about in passing, forced until exhausted and even beyond. After play. Her, in her pink, looked like candy and he wanted to lick her. She must be sweet.      She looked down at him and his face was peculiar, his mind was somewhere else and he looked rather cute. But she was jealous at the idea that his mind wasn't on her and she kicked him in the stomach to bring him back to her. He coughed and curled up as she walked to retrieve her whip, preparing for the next step in her courtship.  "Up" she commanded and he got to his feet, winded, bruised. Arms still behind his back. She released them to tie them around the post of the bed. The bed post being the whipping post, isn't it somehow romantic, she thought.    "If you need me to stop, tell me, I won't be gentle otherwise" she said to him, her mouth on his ear. His hair was slicked down with sweat and he smelled musky. She liked his smell. She bit his earlobe and stepped back a couple of feet and threw the whip. Lash after lash until he tried moving away. Pulling at the post until it creaked. She wanted him to cry but he only moaned and groaned, no tears. Just a brow drenched in sweat as his back went from fine pink lines to slowly oozing wounds. If he didn't give her tears then she would have blood.  He pulled desperately as if trying to escape her and she threw the whip furiously, lashing whatever she could reach, his ass, thighs, calves, neck, even the back of his head. The post groaned as if it would break under the strength of him trying to flee.   "Do you want to get away from me?" She asked. His breathing heavy, labored, his body wobbled as blood poured from him, he shook his head no, weakly, and looked over his weeping shoulders with hazy eyes. Finally he spoke, a clear and clean "No, ma'am" from his lips now dry from mouth breathing, swollen from having been bitten and slapped.   The no rang through her body and she leapt at him and kissed and licked his mouth, his shoulders, his back. Barely containing her arousal, her hips moving in slow circles. She was so hungry.&n

LOL Some of ya'll are just pulling My leg now... ..."Another one gone, another one gone, another one bites the dust...yeah"   I'm learning to embrace this process.  No doubt other dominants will agree, this 'finding' process hones you to a fine instrument of decisiveness and determination and deliverance. One unfortunate aspect, at least in My experience, is that the nincompoops flood ones bloody inbox with so much wasting of time that they bury the sincere inquiries.  Oh well, THANK God I have some hopefulls in the wings.  Let's say a prayer they fly true and straight! ************** I've been wanting to say a word to all the dominant and submissive men I've had the pleasure of speaking with here who are or who have been caregivers (admitely I don't often speak with women caregivers).  The amount of you who have cared for mothers and wives, Mistresses and sisters, daughters, grandmothers, aunts and on...  You have surprised Me with your care and your strength, inturn sharing your strength with Me and adding to My own convictions and care.  THANK YOU for all that you do!  You all are true gems and what would the world be like if not for the men who care for us?  For those of you whose loves have passed on, My heart goes out to you as you journey foward after the battle you have endured.  May you find peace and kindness and mutual hearts to heal after the storm.  For those of you who continue on as I do, nurturing those whom we love and care for, may you find the strength to continue giving your grace and goodness.  I hold a tender place in My heart for those who give of theirself and I pray for us all ways.  May God bless you and keep you and those whom you love, in grace. You are not alone and you are loved.

Oh friends. What I'm about to describe may change our relationship, but it 100% happened just now and I'm not sharing this story with anyone else.  My puppy woke me a short time ago to go outside. Glancing at the clock and seeing it was 4:30, I didn't do any of the things I would normally do before taking her outside. Her waking me means we need to go now. Yes ma'am, let's go. We get outside and she decides that dandelions are interesting and this patch of grass tastes divine, and so on, as she does sometimes leading up to her business. She has a flare for the dramatic, like her momma. Meanwhile, I've had to pee since the moment she woke me. All the way down what felt like ten thousand stairs, through every moment of her moseying outside, I. Have. To. Pee. And I'm not going to make it back to the house.  Chances are if you're reading this you are genetically male (is that the correct term?) and so you would just pull up a patch of grass and unzip. Not having that luxury I faced my two options. Either I could wet my pants, or I could squat and tinkle. Friends, I really tried to use all of those downstairs muscles to make it back to the house. Truly I did. But it wasn't going to happen and I did laundry earlier today. So I did the unthinkable. I moved to a spot less lit. I slid my pajama pants down a bit. I squatted. And I peed. I'm sure someone's door camera caught it, or maybe someone out for a walk. Hopefully it was just me and my puppy. And now you. It's our secret, okay? 

Thoughs over the years upon reading Journals and Priofile comments: On the one hand, yes, there absolutely are people here who are outright scammers as well cases of people flat out being dishonest about what they want and what they're ready to do. No question. At the same time, words and phrases like "fakes" and "not serious" get so vague sometimes (exception: when sufficient context is provided by the person venting) that it can mean almost anything. Fortunately not in conservations with me, but just watching others, this is clear. So broad is the term, that 2 people can say it about each other and they can BOTH be correct...for one person not being serious oe nor being reality based means one thing, for the other, it means something else..Both can be correct accusing the other of it..while both might be honest. And of course easy to overapply to others, less than fairly.. It would serve all best if Profiles and Journals didn't just vent about fakes-and-flakes and "people who are not serious" but were a lot more, or at least a little more, specific. Not only because then we'd see that the journal or profile comment is not itself fakey-or-flaky or misrepresenting what was just a poor match...but simply because by stating parameters that were violated, clears up what you're looking for and what you're not looking for. What you think is reasonable and what you think is not. Then matches, for those of you looking for them, can have a better shot at success. Happy New Year and wishing people a safe, prosperous, and fulfilling year ahead :-)

I have long been fascinated by the basic concept of "How". How do I develop actual power over a sub. How do I instill a true mindset of submission or devotion. How do I get and keep control/power over a whole person. How do I actually mold someone, train them. How do I create an environment where I can unleash myself. How do I get the results that I desire. One thing I've learned is that people develop a core let's say picture of themselves. They develop this idea of who they are in their head, how does she talk, walk, dress, think, her desires, priorities, perceptions, etc etc. Once we have this image in our head this definition of who we are, our minds will do mental backflips to rationalize anything that might challenge this. There is an incredible inertia against any form of challenge or change. Even if you want to change, even if you want to be someone else, it's climbing a mountain. I have met all too many submissive women who on the face of things are willing to do an endless litany of gross, dirty, rough things. Their minds then go through this incredible process of rationalization and narrative building to square that in a way that doesn't challenge their inner self. They will then balk at something incredibly simple that invades their non submissive compartmentalization. One of the core pillars in my philosophy of dominance is to challenge her conception of herself. If I can subjugate your idea of who you are, I can move the real you in so many possible directions. Real power and dominance is not about how hard I can hit you or making you do the grossest things I can think of, it is about owning the idea of you. Once that is done the possibilities are endless.

Part 2  So we moved to a new bigger house and soon I discovered the brothers that would start me down the path that turned me into what I am today. So the brothers slightly older were loud , bold and of course very dominate. For the first few months things were normal , but soon things took a decidedly darker turn.   Things started with them hazing me at school , and the long walk from the bus stop . On the bus they didn't know me but as soon as we got off at the end of the street they would start , and when the girls that lived next to their house were there they puffed up and would show off , having me carry all the books , and taunt me.. I was just happy for the attention... and I got a lot of it from them, especially when summer vacation came from school . That's when things became intense.  At first it was fantasy role play , but  there was always some excuse to tie me to a tree or tie me and lead me through the forest that was behind our houses . Within a few weeks,  the clothes were off when I was tied, and they would leave to go home and get lunch , but always return with something for me. that I had to eat without hands. Then around the middle of that first summer the boys got a tent and set it up in the woods by the house,  far enough away to be partially hidden , and keep curious parents from dropping in.   The tent is where my training really began. From simple ties.  To elaborate  ties , to whipping with branches , to inserting things in me , the summer flew by and I finally felt I belonged , I felt the brothers cared for me , and wanted me , and I wanted to please , I ed to nothing for fear I would again be alone if I did. I remember feeling it was wrong somehow, but I didn't care , I was wanted, and that was all that matter. As things continued to progress they seemed to take good of their roles and the pain became more intense as the whipping increased in both duration and force . The  s I was to take and hold inside became bigger. One day one brother had me tied over a stool  in the tent and was working a candle in me. After he had covered me with the hot wax  from the same candle. when the other brother came over pulled my hair to raise my head and stuck his crotch in my face I could feel his hard cock under the jeans as he rubbed across my face.. I moaned and bucked forward as the candle went deep , and I was pushed into those jeans ,I could feel the heat , and the dampness from his precum. That was to much I guess and before I knew it his pants were off and his hard cock was pushing against my lips I felt a sharp pain as a paddle came down hard on my ass,  and I opened my mouth to protest and it was immediately filled with a hard  cock.  It made me gag and my eyes tearup , but it felt good and he was holding my head , and telling me to relax and how good it felt , so me being the submissive I am, i relaxed into the feelings and took as much of him as I could . He held my head firm , and began to stroke my mouth Stopping occasionally so I could catch my breath , and he could make sure I was alright. It made me feel good , wanted and in my own way loved.  Upon seeing this the other brother started rubbing his hard cock on my ass and between my  cheeks. He took out the candle and put something cool over my hole and pushed his fingers in and moved them around to spread what he had applied , next I felt something hard and warm push against me and begin to slide in , it was about the size of the candlethat was just removed.  But softer , I felt him slide in until his body was hitting mine. It hurt not bad , but an exciting hurt . It was something crazy, and naughty , but felt so good . All at once  things began to flow ,and each alternated their thrusts so I was being bounced between the two hard cocks inside me I had two hands on my head , and two on my waist pulling me deep in each direction. I felt wonderful despite the pain,  I relaxed and began to not only enjoy it but make it better ,I used my tongue and lips on the hard cock in my mouth , and  I began to contract my muscles to squeeze the cock in my ass . To soon the brother fucking my ass began to come, I didn't want him to pull out so I ground back on his still hardcock , and kept him inside until the other brother came in my mouth. It was hot and tasted strange , both brothers fell back to the floor of the tent laughing , that laugh you have when you just finished a great orgasm . Me I was still bound to the stool  but I was squirming , holding my mouth open wanting more . I had changed during those  last few minutes , and became a sexual animal ,  lost my innocence, virginity and any dominance  that might have remained.  I felt more loved and wanted than I ever had before and I knew I was meant to serve and destined to be a toy for hard cocks , and much later wet pussies, but that's a story for another day .  So the brothers fucking me became a daily thing that summer , and would spend many nights camping out tied in someway usually covered on cum.  When school started things were different , I wasnt hazed,  the brothers treated me like a prized pet , taking care of me protecting me , making me feel I belonged.  Sex became more rare , only ocassionally away from the tent  and maybe on weekends as the brothers began to have other Activities and friends , we had several more summers , but none as intense as that first one when they brought me out . By the last summer with them I was insatiable. I was addicted and they knew it . They begin to have other freinds join our camp outs , and they would always have me pleasure their guests,  one time I time I remember they had several freinds over , I was made to jerk off in a bowl in front of all of them , then suck each one until they came each in turn adding their cum to bowl. Then I was made to lap the cum from the bowl and move on all fours  while they all talked and drank some liquor one of boys took from his home . Soon I was tied , and once again the center of attention as I was fucked, and whipped until everyone fell asleep . This was one of the last times we were together , they had both grown and had girlfriends , so I was not as important , they did have one more surprise for me before we were done . This starts another chapter in my life ... for next time . 

Right now I have a bruise on my thigh.  I am not even sure how it happened… I think I was in a rush doing something and walked into a low table or counter or something.  I vaguely remember cussing in my head as I caught my leg on something one day, but I can’t for the life of me remember what or where.  I was looking at the bruise last night amused.  I don’t mark easily, and I don’t mark often.  It actually takes a lot to leave a mark on me, which is part of what amused me about this bruise on my leg last night.  How do I not remember how it happened?  It also made me think back to when I did look at porn, and some of the pictures I have seen on this site on peoples profiles that are simply unavoidable… The horrendous marks on people… That will never be me.  My mind left my bruise and headed more into this life, and my desperate desire for something I really don’t want at all… The absolute quandary of the actual ache in my back side for correction, and my complete and total hate for pain.  Like, I don’t secretly like pain.  I don’t like it a little.  I don’t like it in a house, I don’t like It with a mouse.  I, ladies and gentlemen, do not like pain.  Yet I fantasize about it… So, I pondered this, trying to reconcile this stupidity in my brain… Why? Why do I want it so bad it feels like a need as real as air some days?  I think the pain is simply a by-product of the rest of what I want(need).  Without it, the rest of it doesn’t work.  What do I mean by this?  Well, as anyone who has chatted with me or anyone who knows me, knows, I have a rather strong and dominate personality by nature.  My submission is totally a choice I make because it is relaxing to me.  My submission is a gift to someone special, and only to that person.  When I used to be active in public forums and known as a sub there many dominate men often believed that meant I should act submissive all the time to all dominate people there… bwahahaha!  I had come with a date I was being submissive to, not the whole crowd!   I annoyed a few people.  That’s okay, they annoyed me too.  When I give this gift of submission to someone, it is because they are giving me a gift too.  They honor me by taking care of me, keeping me safe, looking out for my best interest.  My submission to them tells them I trust them to keep this true.  If they intend to bring me my much-hated pain, then I know their intention is to better me as a person, and for this I am grateful.  So there it is, it is about the mind, not the pain.  It goes beyond this simple statement though.  The entire process, start to finish, is about what goes on in the mind.  From the game of how far can I push things, to the change in tone, body language, and eye contact from my man as he goes from my man to my Dom when I am skating the edge with my behaviors.  The unspoken communication that tells me we have that connection.  That shoots thrill through me.  Then, the mental push within me, to I stop, or push it further?  If I push, the soft to stern spoken warnings, and finally, when the last straw is broken, the declaration of punishment to come… Then the absolute torture and agony of waiting for the punishment, preparing to be punished, all up in my head.  The mental ects of it all.  That is what I crave so badly… The moment any legit pain begins, it all ends for me.  I swear, whatever I did, I am sorry, and it won’t happen again any time soon, because I seriously can’t handle the pain!  This girl is not a pain slut by any stretch of the imagination!  If you have legit fallen in love with me and you aren’t a deep sadist, my reaction to sever pain may hurt you more than it does me.  But not likely. And even after deep contemplation of all of this… I sit here aching for it all… still.  smh

Hello everyone, I'm a 33-year-old male submissive who has recently moved to Warsaw. With a rich experience in the BDSM lifestyle, I am now seeking a Dom/Domme couple to serve in a 24/7 capacity. I am versatile with no taboos and have a particular passion for practices such as moral degradation, depersonalization, ballbusting, scat play, and public humiliation. I am looking for a couple who can embrace and utilize my fetishes and help me explore new depths of submission. I am blonde, mentally stable, and free from any dependencies. Having been married in the past, I now seek a new chapter where I can fully immerse myself in the lifestyle I love. If you are a couple seeking a dedicated and experienced slave, I would love to hear from you. Let's connect and see where this journey can take us.

Things have changed yet AGAIN! My father has declined to the point , that he is afraid to move  in with me.  I structured my whole life around this. Closed my business, left my condo, friends, clients, swing dance community, and support network, plus my Sir.   I didn't pick this place for job opportunities,  I was going to care for my father until the end.  He backed out of coming twice and then let it slip that they, my niece, her failing husband and my father were moving 15 hours away!  I may never see him again!   My world has turned upside down.   Now I'm scrambling to get reciprocity for my license, sending out reaumes, and praying to secure employment. Starting over yet again. The one good thing out of this, is the bathroom in the cottage, is completely renovated.  It is stunning , just gorgeous! Porcelain tiled shower , elegant grab bars, not clinical looking at all, all metal shower fixtures, top quality, new toilet, new sink, beautiful oval mirror and lights.  When renovating, when the wall was stripped down, we even found a window!  I prepped the bedroom, learned to skim coat, scraped  sanded, and primed it. I found gorgeous furniture for the parlor, a large couch, chair and a half and a darling tiny gingham print wing chair. A gas operated cast iron stove  stove is in place and hooked up. Now I need to finish the kitchen.  I stripped the wall paper boarders, several of them. Then came across a metal seam! Uuuugh!  Put one layer of skim coating and need to sand that down. Another one or two more coats , then I sand and paint.   At this point I haven't decided whether I'll do my esthetic business or a small daycare out of the cottage.  Either way, I need a part time job before I decide, and complete it. I landscaped the front of it, and it looks darling.   The covered screenedin front porch has two Amish gliders. I saw my dad in those, rocking outside , safe and comfortable. Siiiiigh. Anyhoo, I need to push forward, live in the now for a bit.   My Sir has been out , and his next time is on my birthday. Hopefully all will go smoothly this time. Last time work took two of our days together 💩💩. Miss him being around the corner. I can't believe it's been over two years!    

I just read this and feel I am not certain what this Master is saying, "[...] pain can be done on request or as punishment". My initial reaction is that a Master does nothing on request. A Master is willing to hear a request but just because a request is made and heard does not mean it will be fulfilled. Setting a precedent that if a slave makes a request it will happen, transfers power from the Master to the slave. The slave did not choose to be your slave to lead and be in control. Acting as my own devil’s advocate and grammar police, I suppose this Master said, "can" and not "will". Coming back to what I said above, that just because it can or may be done does not mean it will be. I understand that everyone wants something different and truly I wish the Master who spoke those words all the best. I suppose the reason I am choosing to say anything at all is because it provides a juxtaposition to my own expectations for comparison and contrast.   For me, a 24/7 TPE does not establish any promises other than: I will not risk my slave(s) life or limb deliberately or out of ignorance. Meaning, I would carefully consider my options and surround myself in knowledge to avoid it being hurt in such a way that it would lose its life or a limb. Nor would I act on impulse or emotion without forethought and I would in no way make a decision with deliberate malicious intent that would cause the aforementioned outcomes. If a Master allows his emotions to rule him when he is to be the definition of control, then that person still has growth before they should be controlling another, especially 24/7. I am given the right to do with my or slave as I please. Meaning, no, and safe words are not an option. Nor will crying or begging change my mind. This does not mean I would abuse a slave. What it does mean is that any slave who wishes to submit to me has come so far as to know me and trust me that they understand I will push their limits but so that it helps them grow into the slave I want, even ones they label as absolutely not because there is nothing off-limits as the word no does not exist in the slave vocabulary. The only right a slave has is the right to walk away before being collared. Once collared the slave is only let go if the slave is no longer useful. If a slave becomes severely injured so that the slave can no longer perform the tasks it has been doing faithfully, then I would first seek other ways for it to serve me faithfully, to accept its new roles, and to see it proud that it serves me still and was not simply discarded. A slave that I collar, I intend to keep unless I am unable to find a way for it to service me or the slave breaks one of several major rules (of which I will discuss another time).   I have seen slaves on here looking for a new Master because their Master found they were too old for them. I have no problem with a Master who has an age limitation on his slaves but I do have an issue with any Master who took on the responsibility of a slave and chooses to abandon it rather than assist it in finding it a new Master. As for me, so long as my slave(s) have purpose, I will keep them until the last breath in theirs or my body  

I found this today and tweaked it to add the woman, she, and her. This goes both ways; it’s not a one-way street. Actions are paramount to a solid relationship, right alongside words. People show/tell you who they are and what they want; pay attention.   You are not right for everyone, and everyone is not right for you. Do the work, read, and listen to what is being said and wanted.   “Every time I want to text him/her, I re-read these lines and suddenly, I don’t need to anymore: If he/her wanted to, he/she would He’s/she’s not busy, he’s/she’s just showing you his/her priorities Silence is an answer Respect yourself enough to stop chasing The man/woman who hurt you won’t be the one to heal you His/her mixed signals are just proof of his/her indifference A man/woman who sees your value doesn’t risk losing you Crumbs are not love, and you deserve the whole meal.”

Questions: Rough sex or soft? I prefer to mix it up depends on the partner. Weirdest place you have had sex? Under the pier at Carolina Beach during the day. Favorite sex position? Between a partners legs giving oral. Or from behind if they are strapped down. Have you had any one night stands? Never I'm demisexual so what gets me going is a personal attachment. The thought of a stranger fills me with dread! Have you had sex in a public place? Quite often. Restrooms, by a river bank, in a forest. Have you been caught masturbating? I rarely touch myself. I have gone 12 years without after my wife passed. How often do you have sex? If in a relationship I want it every few hours. If I'm not in one I don't at all. Do you prefer giving or receiving oral? Giving, I'm a person pleaser. Most embarrassing thing that has happened to you during sex? Adjusted position and gave accidental anal. Yeah not good!

 RAWRSUB 

In a galaxy far, far away, Where aliens come out to play, They landed on our planet green, The funniest beings ever seen!   Their heads were shaped like flying saucers, With eyes as big as water courses, Their skin, a shade of vibrant blue, Looking like they just stepped out of a zoo!   They had antennas on their heads, Glowing neon in bright shades of red, Their language was a mix of beeps and whirs, Making us laugh, and our ears go berserk!   They danced in a style quite bizarre, Wiggling their bodies in an alien spa, Their moves were funky and oh so wild, Doing the moonwalk with an extra-terrestrial style!   They tried to imitate our human ways, Wearing clothes in mismatched craze, But their fashion sense was out of this world, With belts made of cheese, and hats, unfurled!   Oh, those aliens, they were quite a sight, Bringing laughter and joy, day and night, They taught us to embrace the strange, And how to giggle, even in the grimmest of days.   So remember, when you think of space, And those quirky creatures you may chase, Aliens are friends, just a little bizarre, Our cosmic pals, from a distant star!