I'm English. Where the language comes from. Dominant is an adjective. It describes a thing. As in, "The dominant person." It commonly gets shorted into noun form, as a thing unto itself. As in, "The dominant slapped some knowledge into the illiterate." To dominate is a verb. It's a doing word. You use it like, "He dominated the test." "She dominated the opposition." "The dominant dominated the submissive." When you find yourself writing the words, "I am a dominate," what you are actually saying is, "I am an illiterate twat who doesn't know the difference between a verb and an adjective or noun. Now please ignore that I can't apply enough thinking to use the language without hurting myself and please trust me with your safety instead." Should you find yourself writing, "I am seeking my ideal dominate," what you are really saying is, "I am not seeking a literate disciplinarian as they would be forced to beat me until all of their toys broke." As an Englishman, it goes without saying that the above is presented with hyperbolic sarcasm. But if we're struggling with nouns vs verbs, trying to explain sarcasm is unlikely to go well.

So here's some more detail (and something to push down my previous whining about the site  ). My wife and I are both looking for our own play partners, so I guess you could call it an open relationship. She's looking for a friend with benefits, emphasis on "friend," as in somebody she could just as easily talk to about daily minutia as she would give him a blow job. I'm not looking for anything quite so equitable. I'm looking for someone who would indulge me in whatever my twisted mind comes up with, like exhibitionism and public play or breathplay or the "usual" spankings and other impact play. I do have some limits of my own, chiefly scat and blood. Also, even though I might want my slave to show a lot of skin and go without bra or panties while she's with me, I wouldn't insist she do that or anything else that might put her job at risk. Yes, I am definitely looking for in person contact at least once a week. My wife and I also have an agreement that we meet each other's play partners and basically vet them. It's not like we're conducting interrogations, it's just determining if we all get along and if there are any red flags.

She loved that look. Kneeling, eyes cast down: she saw meekness, obedience - also a spark of resistance: shame, pride, regret, lust. Regret for freedom lost, shame from the knowledge that it was his own slave nature to give it up, pride that she took it. He desired to submit to her, his surrender brought him shame, the shame aroused his desire.Her dominance was attuned to the contradictions in his heart. She knew how to wrap them like cords around him. He might seem to have a choice. He did not. She confronted him with what he was; the only escape would be for him to deny his nature. This he could not do. So long as she chose to control him, he could only submit.She saw this even more clearly than he did. A part of her regretted taking his freedom - but that lost look in his eyes was so delicious, his impulse to obey was so pleasing, his spark of resistance so exciting to play with - and after all, it was his own nature to submit, just as it was her nature to rule. This is how it was meant to be. And she loved it.

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.    

  To a Man-Bride, do not be fooled by the title there is a special relationship that develops between two men that can only be consummated through phallic worship. One side holds the phallus and the other the vessel where that phallus is to dwell in glory. One is the earth and the other is the plow that opens  it and makes it fertile. Not in the sense of conception but in ideas, attitudes, confidence, and fulfillment.  I've always despised the words sub, and passive because the imply a degree of unworthiness. The one who allows phallus to enter him IS a full and total man; because it takes a man to allow another to enter him and hold him inside and effectively owning that part of the body that makes them equals, the phallus. The glory of a male phallus is the ring of his vessel around it, pulsating, embracing, and forever inviting him deeper then who is the more complete I ask? The vessel owns two phalluses and  because of that becomes twice the man. The experience of he who is entered is dual; on one hand he feel a phallus invading his intimacy but also can and touched outside because he has another phallus outside of his body to experience, savor and reach  fulfillment. Therefore, like a precious object he holds both seeds, his and his partner and becomes fertile by being able to put that experience to good use and walk tall, he has become a man's man. The one who entered him is the channel through which this is achieved and it is not a minor task to bring a fellow man out of his own shadow and into his own light. Nor a master, nor a top, not a controller, but an enablerer.  The role of the phallic union is to elevate both men to achieve their best potential and expand their world. Every time they will unite it will be a process of beautification and the union between those two levels of energies can only be expressed as a bride be cause ones opens willingly and a groom because he enters by his own volition. The phallus is the channel of fulfillment and will work both ways as a heterosexual and as a homosexual (in the ancient ancient aception of the word) process of fulfillment phallus illuminates, guides, centers, and diraspects, that is our destiny.  

Why do people start to chat and dive straight into expecting pictures and making demands. Does no one spend anytime establishing a connection, understanding or expectation of each other? To date my longest connections (some of them over years) have been serving the following:  Domme  Dom Domme and Dom  For me those who have truly wanted this have spent time building an understanding. Their position is obvious to me and respect along with acknowlment comes naturally. Those who have achieved the most from me did so with time, persistence and intent. None of them disappeared without a word.......

I'm so excited, Tony is coming tomorrow.  It has been so tough with his job and three challenging kiddos.   Yet he is making the drive tomorrow and we'll have the weekend! WOOT!.   Been working around the cabin, so a lot has been put away, gallery walls completed, furniture and rugs placed, things look so much different from the last time he was here!  I left Christmas up, so we could have our own celebration .  I usually leave things til the end of Eppphany , a wee longer is no big deal, especially because I was late in getting things up . My father has been calling me a lot. He said he wants to move in with me , again. Not til Spring.  I don't know if he is mad at my niece and using me as a threat, or if he's finally ready to do it.     We'll see, I'm not holding my breath. Cataract surgery next week, I can't wait!  I have been struggling for a year and a half!  Hopefully all will go well, and glasses will be occasional, rather than continuously!. Bedtime.    M.  

Alright, feral creatures. Drag your claws in a circle and listen.   If your master plan is to speed run your BDSM bucket list with strangers like you’re farming achievements, you are not practicing power exchange. You are running a fantasy drive thru.   Hi yes, I’ll take one degradation scene, extra intensity, no emotional labor.   That’s not dominance.   That’s not submission.   That’s transactional self gratification wearing a harness.   Power exchange is not a vending machine. It is not a same night shipping option for your curiosity. It is a relational structure built on trust, communication, and actual human care.   You cannot ethically hold power over someone you do not care about. Period.   Now let’s talk about pick up play before someone starts twitching.   Picking up someone you’ve seen in the community? Someone you’ve observed at events? You’ve watched how they negotiate. How they respond to a safeword. How they treat people after scenes. How they handle NO. You’ve seen them interact when they’re not performing.   That’s informed risk.   Scooping up a total stranger with zero shared community, zero references, zero behavioral observation, and hoping adrenaline carries you through?   That’s rolling dice with someone’s nervous system.   Vibes are not vetting.   And while we’re here get involved in the community.   Go to munches.   Go to vettings.   Go to classes/workshops.   Go sit at a table and actually talk to people without trying to collect them.   Observe.   Watch how people interact. Notice who listens. Notice who interrupts. Notice who respaspects space. Notice who name drops. Notice who checks in after someone looks overwhelmed. Notice who vanishes when cleanup starts.   Munches are not play parties. Vettings are not auditions for your bucket list.   They are spaces to build familiarity. To understand hosts and their rules. To learn the culture of a specific dungeon or group. These events take time, money, and energy to plan. Hosts coordinate venues. They set safety protocols. They build community frameworks.   Treat that with respect.   Don’t roll in like it’s a pregame for your fantasy scavenger hunt.   Power exchange requires infrastructure:   Clear negotiation   Explicit limits   Aftercare planning   Emotional accountability   Community awareness   If you don’t have the patience to build that foundation, you don’t want BDSM. You want intensity without responsibility.   And here’s the gremlin truth: when you treat people like checklist items, you erode the very ecosystem that keeps kink safer.   Community exists so we can:   Share information   Protect each other   Vet behavior   Build trust over time   You want to dominate? Learn how to communicate without posturing.   You want to submit? Learn how to advocate for yourself without shrinking.   You want to explore? Learn how to build relationships that can hold intensity safely.   Slow down.   Show up consistently.   Respect the hosts.   Respect the spaces.   Respect the humans.   Otherwise you’re not practicing power exchange.   You’re just chasing adrenaline for an orgasm and hoping nobody gets hurt when the crash hits.   And that’s not edgy.   That’s just reckless with better lighting.

Have I been abused over my whole lifestyle experience?    I don't think I have, but it was brought to my attention that the reason I think the extreme harshness is normal is because to me it is. I get so confused when I'm asked questions or my opinions early on because from the 3 long term matters I had I didn't get that. It was instantly meeting and then I'm molded to what they desire without breaking my personality. a lot of it was in sex and pleasing them, being super respectful etc.    If my master gave me pleasure it was a reward, an honor, because it's not a given my pleasure.. His is a given. Always. So why am I so obsessed? I dunno..I honestly truly do not know why this is life is such a draw and a need for me when I know (I'm a smart cookie) that this isn't a nice relationship. I just know I crave it. The butterflies in my stomach, - when I'm given a command it almost ferments in my brain and when I complete the task it feels like a pressure is released.. Now I have the world poorest memory so I'm forgetful af, so I might forget the task if it's something that needs to be completed in the future lol   I don't think I was abused. I crave that intensity today and won't be happy if it's not a constant thing. My body moves on its own sometimes. I'm lippy. No I think it was good teachings and what I deserved at the time.    I met someone new. We talked for hours and next day met. It was all pretty fast. He said if it doesn't keep this pace ... I'm a runner...I'll leave and... He's right. I'm fucked up. I get in my head and I overthink everything and then I get headstrong and stubborn. I don't know if it's real.. Again it was mostly talking with some fun times and lots of correction and reframing my mind. It was fun yesterday. Was it enough? Is this what it's always gonna be like?    I dunno. I dunno.

LongTerm Chastity The waves of denial come and go.There are days when i forget that i am locked up, then a wave of reality hits and the feeling of helplessness and inferiority pound on my psyche.The need to be teased, aroused and denied as others enjoy their sexual freedoms intensifies..i started this journey out of curiosity and now i am overwhelmed with the need to be locked.i have gone back to my original device. It is open and i can keep myself clean without removing it.i am wondering if i should forgo any shaving, thus eliminating any reason for the occasional unlocking.Thoughts of making this permanent and irreversible have entered my mind. It would be easy enough to do: Hex button Stainless Steel screw, a tap, Locktite 266. (Don't forget to round out the Hex hole with a f=drill bit after it is tightly in place, to render the Hex key useless.) .Yes, the thought has crossed my mind..........a few times..

I sit back in the chair. Make sure he's looking me in the eye, compose myself and begin. “M, as I lay out these things that need to be said there is no need to speak just nod your head.” "You will never have sex with me again, nod your head." He pauses, then nods. "I will never leave you, I have no desire to, I love you, you will always be my primary. I know you are scared but we both need this. Nod your head.” He nods. “I am going to find a man who will be my sexual companion, nod your head." He nods and I notice he starts rocking his hips.  "Stop that rocking immediately." He complies, but I see a level of desperation in his face that hasn't been there in a long time. I continue. "I will be going on dates. I will be staying overnight at other men's homes. You will accept this and be happy for me. Nod your head." He nods his head.  "The man or men I choose to see will know the details of our lifestyle once I trust them. Nod your head." He nods. "Eventually, this man...or men, will be allowed at our home, even while you are here. You will treat my bull with the same respect you treat me. I will only allow men here who I know will respect you. My high dream is for someone that we can both call Daddy. Nod your head." He nods.  "You will continue to remain in chastity. You know how important I feel that it is for you. Though, you will now be allowed one orgasm every other week. We will do it exactly this way every time unless I say otherwise. Palms on the floor, legs straight out, humping your diaper. Nod your head." He nods vigorously and the clip of his pacifier clinks. "Now, M, you may begin humping." He makes three slow long humps. I can feel my underwear soaked between my legs with my thighs and move my hand to my crotch, I can feel the heat coming off my body. "Good boy." His diaper crinkles, it is the sound of my power and I almost can't take it. I feel the outside of my underwear with my finger tips and say, "you will never fuck me again, nod your head." He nods vigorously again and more clinking from his pacifier. Now for the final mind fuck. I want to hear him say it. I want him to acknowledge this out loud as he masturbates the only way I will allow him. "Say it M. Spit out your pacifier and say, 'I'll never fuck you again.'"

Master's WritingsSubmission, as I see itSubmission comes in many forms and on my journey different subs have approached it from different angles. Some see it as service, some as opening themselves up to another, and some even see it as a rejection of the world with it demands and requirements. Over the years, I have trained several submissives to reach greater depth in their submission and I’ve tried to work within their mindset, helping each to reach their potential in a way that is honest, true, and unique.At its core, submission is and should be a genuine reflection of an individual’s inner truth. A sense of their own purpose and way of life they choose to accept. It comes from a place within each submissive that reflaspects their own nature, and their most authentic expression of self.The nature of any true “submissive training” should and must be focused on helping the submissive connect with their nature, create the pathways to more fully access their own unique form of submission, and then finally build on that to blend it into their daily life. All the tasks and sexual acts, the “yes Sirs” and downward glances of respect, mean nothing and are worthless self-indulgent Dominant games, if the goal of these acts are not designed to deepen a submissives connection to their own beautiful, natural, and authentic submissive self.Submission is a gift. This single phrase bears repeating, because it is so very true and frequently overlooked - Submission is a gift. When fully developed, submission is a powerful and sometimes spiritually beautiful thing to behold. It is never to be taken, coerced, or forced. It is not for role play or pretend, Of course one could act like a submissive as if putting on a costume, but not with me as their Dominant. I hols submission, true submission in the highest regard. And to pretend to be one only cheapens the gift of those who truly feel its calling.As a Dominant, I see my role as helping others in any way I can on their journey, as their guide, nurturer, and mentor.

Since I have been away for a while, have a writing entry!   There is just something about women’s eyes. The way that you can look down into them and see the arousal. You watch, never losing eye contact, your breath mingling with one another. You watch her eyes squint and then light up when your skin touches hers, the space between your bodies getting smaller. The way the hue hazes over with eagerness and need. The underlining knowledge that she craves it, the roughness, the love, the caring about her, just someone being obsessed with her, even if for those next moments spent together. The furrow in between her pretty eyes when she’s trying to concentrate on listening, the deeper furrow when she’s angry for not being allowed a release, the begging and pleading in the corners of such a beautiful color. A tornado of frustration in the depths of the pupil that send fire to her iris when she’s pinned against the surface below her, the teasing ensues. Her words match the storm you’re staring into, wanting all of the earth shattering pleasure those pretty eyes are about to give you. As her pretty mouth fixes for another vulgar attitude, you see the fireworks on the brim of exploding behind that tornado, her head falling back, eyes squeezed tight, urging the leg shivering to take over her body. Your fingers dance along her body, your mouth cascades her skin as those pretty eyes of hers start to well with the happiest of tears. Picking her head up, you let the sea of waves in her happiness wash over you, never losing eye contact as you use your tongue to clean your mess of a woman with such beautiful eyes.

WELL FOLKS I HAVE GOTTEN MOVED AS OF LAST NIGHT MARCH 29. NOW HAVE TO GET SOME REST SO I CAN GET NEW HOUSE STRAIGHTEN OUT. I LOST ONE OF MY PUPS BECAUSE SHE WAS SO SCARED OF THE MOVE. SHE STAYED UNDER THE HOUSE. COULDN'T GET HER OUT. BUT I LEFT FOOD AND WATER FOR HER. SHE DIDN'T BARK LIKE SHE DID THE DAY BEFORE, YESTERDAY. THE NEIGHBORS WILL KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR HER. NOT MEETING ANYONE YET. BUT WILL LET YOU KNOW WHEN. HAVE A GREAT DAY!            MISTRESS CATSTAR...

  What is meant by online friends? An internet relationship is a relationship between people who have met online, and in many cases know each other only via the Internet. Online relationships are similar in many ways to pen pal relationships.    

First Journal Entry I am back on here after a long hiatus on this platform, fingers crossed, it works out better than the first time.  I am here looking to make friends, and who knows what after that. One thing I have found so far is that not much has changed, those jumping into my inbox still manifest many of the prior encountered issues: trying to insta me, using titles before they have been earned, fantasy pushing, and having the sort of energy and vibe of trying to use me as a kink vending machine. I am a person first, before being a dominant, so please don't do this.  A new one on me is seeing not being willing to jump to chat apps as a red flag, as a reason to think someone isn't genuine. To be very clear, I won't jump off this platform onto a chat app after a few brief message exchanges. Trust has to be built up, a connection of sorts created first. I am not interested in one of hook-ups, but want to build something more meaningful, and that will happen on here first. In my book trying to pull me off here, after a few minimal messages, definitely is one, and strongly suggests a scammer at work, not a genuine person.  Please don't try and do that. 

Hmm...  a journal entry, eh?  Not quite sure what to say here... or even if this thing works.  Let alone if anyone out there will read this.   Let's just start with a basic confession: I love sex, and I like it rough.  I have had fantasies about being raped ever since I a girl.  Of course back then, those fantasies were pretty tame.  Mostly being captured by a villian who would tie me up and keep me in his dungeon where he would, G, try to kiss me!  As I got older the fantasies became...  how say I say it..  more graphic...  The more I think about it, the more I realize that my rape fantasies pretty much follow a basic pattern: I'm out and about...  It's night...  I'm alone...   and I find myself in a bad situation...  and then one or more (usually more) tough looking guys show up and start getting into my person space, then they start trash talking and insulting me, then they start touching me and pushing me around.  Naturally I resist and try to get away, I usually am able to run away for a bit then they catch me again.  after that, they usually rip off all my clothes, hold me down, and have there way with me...  The specific details change, but that's the basic formula...    We'll see who reads this... Catch ya later, subMeghan

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

Thought for today.... A mediocre Dominant tells,  a good Dominant teaches,  a excellent Dominant explains ...  but a true Dominant Inspires.

You are too uptight and Never said you had to have multiple partners but you are way to dominant. You can deny this all you want but it is very clear and apparent. You might think you can submit in a committed relationship but you can’t. You won’t. It’s him conceding to your will and happiness. And that’s not submission. Its role play. And your excuses and justifications do not make this any less true. I’m sorry you don’t want to hear this and ignore its validity but it is true. You simply don’t care and then wonder why it’s so hard for you to find someone. Someone wrote this to me, all because in response to a statement he wrote, I responded I dont just play with anyone, I am not a slut.

  PSA FOR YOU TEXT-WARRIOR, NO-ACTION “SUBS” Let’s make this real clear ‘cause some of y’all slow: this ain’t no slap-n-tickle daycare, and I ain’t your lil fantasy pen-pal. I see way too many of you running your mouth about “devotion” and “service,” but your actions stay ghost like rent day. Y’all been out here trained by hobby dommes handing out fake titles like raffle tickets! Oh congrats, you learned how to kneel for selfies and type “yes, mistress” with your thumbs. Cute. But let me remind you...I am NOT the one to play them baby games with. Let’s cut the bullshit: If your “service” starts with your nut in mind, you already disqualified. If your follow-through weaker than your WiFi signal...don’t step to me. If all you bring is paragraphs, emojis, and zero execution. You can consider yourself pre-blocked in spirit. I don’t do needy. I don’t do text pets. I don’t do “maybe later.” You get one lane and one chance: service with backbone, obedience without your ego hangin’ out, and movement I don’t gotta chase you for. Miss that lane? Cool! Your exit is already waiting with the engine running. I don’t do reindeer games. You either show up in discipline, readiness, and action, or you get shown the exit with extreme swiftness and silence.   This is not a cuddle corner for your kink curiosity. This is service with spine, obedience with precision, and presence without ego. If that sounds like too much for you, good! Go stay in the shallow end where the slap-n-tickle Dominants will praise you for a "Yes, Mistress."   This ain’t Fetlife cosplay. This is Pegstress territory! If that’s too grown for you, go back to the hobby dommes who clap for you just for showing up breathing. I’m not arguing with no sub who can’t execute. I don’t repeat myself... I'll just replace you.

If you do not have permission all ready to live and work in the USA, then I am not interested in you.It is very difficult to emigrate to the USA.  I cannot sponsor you - not from lack of will, but because of the rules.I have nothing against potential slaves contacting Me, but I will NOT sort out immigration issues for you.    I also will not wait until you do.  It can take years.So, if you all ready have permission to live and work here or dual citizenship - great.   If not -  don't bother contacting Me.See the US Immigration website for the rules.

A 4 wheel break job and a panty job! What more could a girl ask for? This past weekend I had the EXTREME pleasure of being served.  He showed up in the wee hours of the morning and over the next several hours demonstrated a front brake pad, rear drum brake, and rear shoe job!  So interesting and I love knowing how to save Myself some cash in the future, as well as how to properly prepare the components of the  brake system in order to have them operating at peak performance.  I feel knowledgeable and grateful.  My favorite new find is Anit-Seize - so neat and in copper no less! After the brake job and LOTS of sexy stories, off we went to a Halloween party where he dressed as a she (wig and all) and mum and I were dressed as cowgirl and asian empress. Later on, after I got 'her' good and tipsy, I took advantage and traced those super silky lace pink panties.  It was SOOO HOT to feel 'her' squirm underneath My touch and move erotically.  I felt desire course hot for a moment or two.  lol   Thank you dear for sharing your talent, knowledge, and sweet sissy side.  It was fun and you are a hero in My book! Kiss

Well, it seems journals are working again! Please don't ask me for meaningless play, or suggest I have an interest in you showing up now and then. I'm only interested in a real and whole relationship IN PERSON. I am the real thing, like some men seem to want... a lifestyle slave who is also intelligent and capable. I'm not moving, I own a large and lovely home that I have put a ton of money into customizing. I am only interested in a LOCAL loving dominant male who will make feel safe, and allow me to give myself to him as much as I am able, and not regret it. Yes, the "L" word. I want so much to put down my sword and shield. I'm an older lady now, so what I can do physically is limited. But I can still do quite a bit of the things that work for me, and if you have fet or alt you can see faceless pics of me and my dungeon. But mostly, I want a loving strong man who can be in charge and not make me regret it. Is that You? Right now, I am healing emotionally from giving myself entirely to someone who represented he wanted to be my Master, and then decided that being Jimminy cricket was more his style. If I were younger, I would take a few years off like I used to to heal, but I don't have that luxury now. So I have to get back in the pool.

Interestingly read something about how BDSM has been used to help people explore and heal traumas within in their lives.    Firstly it’s not something that would have sprung to mind but also a brilliant positive in relation to lifestyle and a deviation to the norms of Ds.    Of course this is not possible without complete trust in a Person to allow any kind of healing to happen. 

I don't really like doing "negative space" posts, but a few things:   I do not do "sessions".  I'm not a prodomme, I'm not interested in casual anything.  If I pursue something, its because I think it has potential for an ongoing dynamic of substance.  I'm also not a findomme, and have no interest in folks whose primary motivation is in that realm.  Doms - some of your cohort are giving you a seriously bad name.  Here's what keeps happening. A Dom contacts me, says they want to do the equivalent of talking shop.  Within a few exchanges they're pushing boundaries, either telling me they want to flip the and sub, or telling me how wonderful they are and bragging all around, or in one case, attempting to pathologize my own participation in the lifestyle and dismissing any woman with interests in this realm.  Guys, don't do this.  It just makes you look bad, and I'm happy to use the block button when things go down that path.  You're here on a site for finding people who complement  your preferred power orientation. Go forth! Pursue them!  Have fun!  Just leave the Dommes alone, we're not buying.  Geez, what else.   Please be ready to engage in conversation of substance.  I'm not looking to chat forever, but I am looking to chat until I can see that you are a consistent, reliable, engaging individual who can connect with me on a materially significant level.  I'm not going to invite you to my off-site world unless I feel you've proven those things, because I don't need fifteen "hi" messages a day blowing up my phone from folks who don't bother to string together a full sentence.    Ahh, venting complete.  I might even delete this later, but for the moment, it needed to be said.    

Mentioning the age is off limits here but my training lasted 8 years and was my first sexual experience.  I knew I had to keep quiet about it but it was the only thing positive going on in my life in those years.  Life at home was miserable; girls weren't interested because I'm so short.  I couldn't compete in sports even if I had wanted to.  But 2 or 3 afternoons every week I learned more and more about how to overcome my height deficit and be useful and likeable for men.   From day one, it was drilled into me to keep my hands and my mind on him, not on myself.  That was the most important part when training for sexual submission.  To this day, I will not touch myself when anyone is using me.  It's all about my partner and their pleasure, about keeping all the energy moving toward them.

Don't ask me for my number when we first chat   As a dominant myself, I have often encountered situations where people assume that just because I am dominant, I am always looking for new submissives and will readily share my personal information with anyone who asks. This could not be further from the truth. Being a dominant is not just about controlling and dominating others; it is also about respecting boundaries and building trust with a submissive partner.   When someone asks me for my number or contact information without even getting to know me, it not only shows a lack of respect for boundaries but also highlights a lack of understanding about the dynamics of a dominant-submissive relationship. As a dominant, I take the responsibility of my partner's physical and emotional well-being very seriously, and I cannot fulfill that responsibility with just anyone who asks for my number.   Another reason I am hesitant to give out my personal information to someone I have just met is that it takes time to build trust and establish a connection with a potential partner. BDSM is not just about physical acts; it involves a deep level of trust and understanding between partners. As a dominant, I need to know that my partner understands and respaspects my boundaries, and vice versa. This level of trust and understanding cannot be achieved through a simple exchange of phone numbers.   Moreover, just because I am a dominant does not mean I am always looking for new partners. Like anyone else, I have a life outside of BDSM and have other interests and responsibilities. Asking for my number without getting to know me first shows a lack of regard for my personal life and boundaries.   It is also essential to note that being a dominant does not mean that I am immune to rejection or unwanted advances. Just like anyone else, I have the right to choose who I want to engage with and who I do not. Asking for my number without even getting to know me is not only disrespectful but also puts me in an uncomfortable position.   In conclusion, just because someone identifies as a dominant does not mean they are always on the lookout for new partners or willing to share their personal information with strangers. As with any relationship, trust and mutual understanding take time to develop. So, if you are interested in getting to know a dominant, take the time to build a connection and respect their boundaries. Only then can you expect them to share their personal information with you.

Boy Speak Boy speak is what he really means when he says one thing but means another, Thinking that he is talking to his mind-reading  mother! But I think I want to say you are a prude, Means he wants his ass fucked and will be rude, Why not Goddess do that for me, Means be my dispensing unit I can see. Go on I will do the kink you want, Means no he won't it's just a taunt. Sure I want to meet but tell me now, How you'll have me cum but I won't bow. Nor will I meet or be respectful at your feet,  Says he. So a kinky twat bottom he will remain you see.     My answer is: No fetish service the dommes4U was never set, Never made active I see you lament. Lament at your loss for a second at a time, When I moved on relieved you won't be Mine.   A Dominant Woman am I to be taken on meals and fun days out, To laugh together while you Mine will happily move about, Being useful funny and sweet. That's is the real-time Slave I want at My feet.   What's that you can't cope if I am Poly, As you want a porn image Mistress-dolly. Silly boy with that boyspeak of yours pouring out, I moved on more men worth my time to chat about.

It was a mixture of arousal, curiosity and his final reassurance that made her mind up. She knew she could say ‘Stop’ and he would, though that could be permanent, it was an instinctive decision that made her move towards the lift and later she realised why she made it. There was a logical progression to it. She was a stubborn person with a rebellious streak and a free will who made her own decisions and didn’t blame others when they went awry. Here she was reigning in her rebellious streak of her own free will and her natural instincts reinforced this. Her stubbornness would make her comply with what she wanted in this regard, even though it seemed counterintuitive.  Now it was a rush to the receptionist’s desk to get a pen, the envelope was already open and had the room number written on it. The contract was one piece of A4 paper and the male receptionist must have seen the bold type headline which stated ‘SUBMISSIVE’S CONTRACT’. She didn’t have time to read it all, her instinct told her that he would not put anything in it that he had not said. And what would be the point as it was a symbolic act, not a contract that could be legally enforced.  She hurried the short distance to the lift; the concierge seemed to have anticipated her need and he had pressed the button, she momentarily wondered if he knew. Once inside she selected the 4th floor. Her heart missed a beat when just before the doors closed a woman stepped into the lift causing the doors to recycle again and they selected the 3rd floor; she knew this would delay her further. She willed the lift to move faster but still almost in two minds about what she was doing, but she wanted to be the decision-maker on this and not subject to an arbitrary cut off due to time. Her pride ensured she used the time to check her hair and lipstick in the mirror as she would not countenance the thought he would not find her attractive.  The lift reached the 4th floor and according to the large sign room 417 was to the right, she almost ran, nearly tripping over her heels on the thick carpet.  The door to room 417 was slightly ajar, and a ‘do not disturb’ sign was hanging on the handle. She stood for a second or two to let her breathing steady, it seemed to take ages for her hand to travel from to the door, her knock was timid and her stomach almost jumped as she heard the noise her hand made.  A firm reply was forthcoming a few seconds later. ‘Come in Joanna’. She swallowed, took a deep breath and gripping the envelope, pushed the door open and whilst trying to look calm she stepped inside and the door closed with an almost imperceptible click.  The room was warm and gently lit from the lamp above the desk he was sitting at. His jacket was over the back of his chair and the few papers he was attending too were lying about.  Nonplussed for a moment she stood there waiting for some sort of guidance, she knew what she had to do but some sort of signal from him seemed essential.  He understood, or knew, and stood before quietly saying, ‘Come here Joanna’. It was about 4 steps and he stood almost impassively as she greeted him properly. Her arms went around his waist and she pressed herself against him until he said that she could stop. This time it seemed natural and gave a moment when she could do something that seemed familiar and that she was in control of. It also served to break some of her tension before she stepped back ready to kneel. Kneeling seemed a strange and almost alien act; she had been on her knees in front of a man before, but then she was in control of him, she forcibly overcame her rebellious streak and found it disappeared almost entirely.  Her eyes cast down she noticed her knees were together, it seemed inappropriate so she moved them further apart. Taking a larger breath she looked down at his feet and with the envelope in both hands, she held it up to him.  He didn’t seem to move for ages, and then he took it from her hands. He checked her signature was on the contract before placing it amongst the other papers on the desk. This was a small action, however, it made her realise that she had voluntarily signed this part of herself over to him. He had taken possession and she was now his.  He turned the chair to face her and sat on it.  She was on her knees only a few feet from a man she had just given her submission to in writing, she was no longer so nervous, it was now anticipation mixed with exhilaration and her senses were alive! She was now free to be what he decided. He leant forward and lifted her chin with his thumb and forefinger, forcing her to look him in the eyes, ‘Joanna, you are now mine’ he said quietly.  After a pause during which he just looked at her he then continued ‘The photography will wait until tomorrow as there are a few matters from earlier today I will address straight away.’ He wasn’t asking for a reply, he told her to stand and rest her elbows on the desk. She was a little taken aback, whilst earlier considering what might happen this evening she thought he might just photograph her. In a way that would be easier to contemplate, she could understand it would be a reasonable first private meeting, however, she knew it would disappoint her.  But now he was going to ‘Address some matters’ and that sounded ominous, it made the butterflies in her stomach come alive again. She did as asked, putting her elbows on the desk. He told her to arch her spine downwards, this meant she was bent over much further than she felt comfortable, it made her bottom more pronounced and her skirt was tighter. Her knees flexed as she tried to contain the nerves generated by her bottom being so vulnerable, he ordered her to straighten her legs and keep them so, as it tightened the skin of her buttocks. What he did next was unexpected, he ran his fingers around her neck gathering her hair into his hand at the nape of her neck. He expertly wound it into a ponytail using a band that must have been around his wrist. She now felt even more vulnerable without the usual shield of hair that would normally surround her face. She nervously moved her weight from one foot to another. He told her to spread her legs wider to shoulder width. She glanced up into the mirror above the desk; she could see him standing a few meters behind her, looking at her in a way few men had done. It was not simple lust, his face was almost impassive, she could see he was comfortable looking at the salacious view she presented.  His voice was calm as he told her that she had been disobedient when she broke away from the greeting before she had been told she could, she had also been demanding in their early email exchanges. For these, she was going to have her bottom spanked, he said it would be a ‘cumulative dozen’ and if she made any of these mistakes again it would be a stricter punishment.  He told her to raise her skirt over her back, this unnerved her more, it was one thing to have her skirt lifted, but another to do it herself! She thought she could not, but his curt statement of ‘disobey and I will use a strap instead of my hand’ encouraged her. She rested her forehead on the desk and reaching behind her with both hands she lifted the hem of her skirt until it lay over her back. He then described the view he had of her bottom in very basic language. His description of the way her swollen sex lips bulged into her panties was particularly crude and said with distinctive pleasure.  A short while later he moved to her left side. He reached over her back and pulled her right hip towards him, holding her still by trapping her against his thigh.

+ NRA Bans Firearms During Donald Trump's Speech at Texas Event   BY ANDERS ANGLESEY ON 5/25/22 AT 7:51 AM EDT       The National Rifle Association (NRA) told attendees they will not be able to carry firearms during an event with former President Donald Trump at its Texas conference that will be held just days after a deadly mass shooting at an elementary school in the state.   On its website, the pro-gun organization declared that people would not be able to bring their firearms into the General Assembly Hall during its upcoming Annual Leadership Forum in Houston on Friday, May 27. In a notice, the NRA said firearms, toy guns and "weapons of any kind" would not be allowed inside the hall. It also listed several other items, such as laser pointers and signs among things that were prohibited.   The NRA described its annual leadership forum as being "one of the most politically significant and popular events in the country." But a shadow has been cast over the conference after 19 children and two adults were fatally shot at Robb Elementary School in Uvalde, Texas on Tuesday.     (more)       https://www.newsweek.com/nra-bans-firearms-during-donald-trumps-speech-texas-event-1709957#Echobox=1653480476

Master's WritingsFoundations: Deep Honesty and the Butterfly EffectAs I see it, there are three core elements, communication, trust and honesty, that together form the foundation for feeling safe as we explore the lifestyle. Each element is interdependent with the others, and intertwined in such a way that to fail any one breaks them all, leaving us unsure and at risk, while when they all work right, we feel able to explore the greatest depths imaginable.With regard to honesty, we, in the lifestyle, are far better equipped to get it right than anywhere within the vanilla world. Power dynamics, the emotional nakedness of play and the acceptance of near infinite diversity among our interests and population make total honesty far more achievable within the lifestyle than others then you might think.Yet honesty can suffers from the crushing weight of a single butterflies wing. As children, we learn to lie because we get away and it always starts with the smallest of lies or the things we hide from those we love. As we grow, we believe that lying is acceptable with those we love and in society in general. This acceptance allows us to learn to lie even to ourselves, and as we mature, we discover that we have grown comfortable being false to others and even to ourself. We no longer know what is authentic and the distance between those close to us grows and decays. And we wonder why. In fact, as a society, we have entered an age where falsehood and lying is now the norm and an accepted practice.In a dynamic where “Total Honesty” is practiced, lies are never allowed, not in part nor in full, not even lies of omission or hidden truths of any kind. Sharing is always total, free and open. The freedom of an open mind and heart is the only acceptable mindset. While nearly all in the lifestyle preach this in one form or another, we must be aware of the impact of that single small butterfly wing. For just like the child growing up, a single allowance of a hidden feeling, an uncomfortable truth left unspoken, or a fear not communicated, has the potential to become habit forming and thereafter impact and erode the beauty and depth of a dynamic. A hidden feeling can undermine the understanding one partner has for the other. An uncomfortable truth can lead to the birth of resentment and anger when not spoken where it is allowed to fester. A fear left unchecked causes stress, clouds the mind, undercut trust, causes stagnation and allows anxieties to run unchecked or worse.Within a dynamic, the expectation and practice must be to understand the impact, the cause and effect, of that single delicate wing of the smallest of lies and/or omissions, remaining fully open to each other, totally authentic of self, and emotionally naked before your partner. For it is only within a dynamic filled with such honesty that we make possible the deep, beautiful and magical experiences we all seek.

This bleeding love Ain't taking our hearts Inner fire ignites us I paid so much I'd say it's my sport Ha ha ha wake up   Her nights don't define us Even heaven loves the way she tastes I'm crawling right beside her Give me grace I'm calling   Emotion violence taking my life In the fire we'll make up I saw the goddess Bury my light No no no wake up   Her nights don't define us Even heaven loves the way she tastes I'm crawling right beside her Give me grace im calling Her nights don't define us Even heaven loves the way she tastes I'm crawling right beside her Give me grace im calling   When my teeth are in And I'm already I'm already biting May I drink you in  Cus I can barely I can barely fight it   Your my prayers stay sweet Visions spells said she said we will Limerence says your mine Hold on hold on Hold on to me   Her nights don't define us Even heaven loves the way she tastes I'm crawling right beside her Give me grace im calling Her nights don't define us Even heaven loves the way she tastes I'm crawling right beside her Give me grace im calling   When my teeth are in And I'm already I'm already biting May I drink you in  Cus I can barely I can barely fight   When my teeth are in And I'm already I'm already biting May I drink you in  Cus I can barely I can barely fight

3/21/26  Happy Spring........................ I have been reflecting lately on the people I have met within this community. I deeply respect the honesty this lifestyle can bring when it is genuine, but with time comes the clarity to recognize the difference between surface-level energy and meaningful connection.   For me, this has never been solely about the physical. It is about presence, trust, and an energy that transcends the moment. When you truly understand your desires, you stop trying to fit where you do not belong and stop reshaping yourself for acceptance. Once you experience an authentic connection where you can show up fully, you realize you can no longer settle for anything less.   I am grateful for the experiences and the people who have shaped my perspective. I feel more grounded now in what I will and will not accept moving forward. Real connection is rare, and I have decided to no longer entertain anything that doesn't meet that standard.   For a long time, I was simply pushing forward, always waiting for "someday." Lately, however, I have been sitting with a different truth. While I do not have a perfect life, I am envisioning a version of life that is perfect for me. We all have things that need to be healed or figured out, and many of us feel like we don't quite fit the ordinary mold. We think differently and require different ways of being seen—yearning for the specific types of love and service that only those within this community truly understand.   There is something honest about that realization. It is about recognizing that even in the middle of life's messy moments, there are still people worth meeting and experiences worth having. You don't have to be perfect to find what is perfect for you. Take the risk of being volunerable, take the risk of being seen or even hurt..... We have less years in front of us then we do behind us.. Risk the chance before you regret it.. Hugs, bumps and grinds my naughty kinsters........ xox

Dominus Mea SacramentumMente, cordis, et CorpusServitium cum HonorePraeceptum est mi

Dont be afriad to talk to me, but can we talk about life first. Always opened to talking to  Doms Dommes Switches Slaves Subs. 

lover of sparkles of the heart ✨ ✨✨ I am a sub. I feel beautiful when I submit to a Woman and am watched as my  breathing, my sweat and eyes are given to You. The release i feel when She allows me to let Her take over. I want someone who willingly takes “control” in the most vulnerable of situations because it meets both of our needs. I do not want to feel abused that i offer control of me. I value and respect it. True submission requires trust, honesty, communication and patience. Do I want to ALWAYS give up control? No, I don’t. I am interested in an ongoing relationship with ONE person. I am not intimate with people I am not in a committed relationship with. I am however curious about developing a relationship that is Female led. I know that what I want is definitely out of the norm, but I seek someone I can connect on an emotional, psychological and physical level. There is nothing more erotic in my opinion than being with someone who I care about deeply and vice versa. I want to be kinky with my significant other in the bedroom. But I want MORE. I want to watch movies with Her and talk to her about life. I want to cook together, snuggle and have tea in the morning. I want to go on trips and have a relationship. I am a kind hearted person who genuinely cares about people. I often invest myself too quickly in someone, thinking that the feelings are mutual. I am looking for a real LTR, monogamy, love in all its forms. Ultimately I want to get married and have children.

I crouch in the dim light, low to the ground, my muscles coiled with anticipation. My heart beats with the thrill of the chase, yet no footsteps follow, no predator’s growl answers my call. I’m a kitten playing in the shadows, batting at a love that slips through my claws. You, so distant, so untouchable, are the prey I’ll never catch—the storm I’ll never tame. The air is thick with the scent of longing. I arch my back, purring softly, an offering of submission, a plea for connection. But the silence stretches between us, sharp and cruel, like the edge of a blade grazing skin. I reach for you in my primal way, a growl in my throat, a playful swat, a desperate leap. You stand still, unyielding, unseeing. I ache for your touch, even if it stings. I crave the thrill of being hunted, the satisfaction of surrendering to you, the sharpness of your love cutting through me. Instead, I am left to prowl alone, circling a void that offers nothing in return. Every glance you give that doesn’t linger, every word spoken without weight, slices through me deeper than any knife. In my dreams, you are the hunter. You snarl, you chase, you pin me to the earth. Your teeth graze my neck, and I surrender willingly, body and soul. But reality is a different kind of pain, one that gnaws at me in quiet moments. You don’t see the way I tremble for you, the way I offer myself with every arch of my back, every purr in my throat, every unspoken word. The shadows are my companions now. I curl into them, licking wounds that refuse to heal. I am the kitten you’ll never chase, the prey you’ll never capture. Still, I remain here, waiting, aching, caught in this endless edge between desire and despair, loving you in the dark where you’ll never look

“You Never Get a Second Change to Make a First Impression.” This quote has been attributed to Oscar Wilde and Will Rogers, although nobody knows for sure. Studies show a person will form a first impression within seven seconds or two minutes.   First Impressions- True for both sides of the sash  This was being discussed in a group, which made me think about some of the people I've met over the years. Some I remember fondly because they made a great first impression; despite how things turned out, I still hold them out as friends. Others may have made a great first impression, but it went south. Maybe they are good with words but less so about showing up; maybe they are keyboard jockeys and only want online, perhaps they are introverts, perhaps they are already in a relationship and want "discrete," or some other excuse not to show up.   I love that new little add-on to profiles where I can make notes about those who make a terrible impression, ghosting, those horrid one-liners by mail, etc., whatever it is. On the flip side, Use this to note those who are quite the opposite and make a fantastic impression and great messages. Why did you like them?  

Here is a lil update:  You'd like to turn your ass all sorts of colors, pleasure you, control you,                         restrain you, explore you, use you and care for you.                         You want to fill your holes, devour you, make you cum repeatedly.                         If this is not a normal daily routine or something there in, then  I'm not interested in you being                          My Dom, My Daddy or anything of the sort. Simply not the girl for you. Ty

I've been in the lifestyle since my early 20's.  I am my area MAsT group leader.  I use to be very active in the NYC area bdsm scene, have atended many events through the years about north eastern USA.   I do not do play, and am not a bedroom submissive. I am a slave all of the time, in my daily life. I am not submissive to everyone, I have owned and run my own business, been a boss to many people in my jobs through the years. The world does not know I am slave, nor do they need to know such, I simply am who I am all the time. I can not turn myself on and off. I live life to the fullest that I am cabable of doing. I serve with my heart and bering, in all I do, yes, even when I am sans a master. Would it not be dishonorable, dishonest and disloyal for me to be on this site and be owned or collared and not have such stated in my profile as well as have checked that I am actively seeking a dominant male? I believe it would be.  If I were owned, collared, in a relation, or even simply focusing on someone at the time, I would state such perfectly clearly in my profile for all to see.  I am here seriously seeking someone, this is not a game to me.  Read my profile please, then consider contacting me.  First impressions mean a whole lot.

At the end of 24 - 2025 .. I’ve stepped away from this platform before and return with intention—not curiosity, not games. I’m interested in real-world compatibility, emotional maturity, and mutual respect, not fantasy hopping. I seek a man who understands this lifestyle, is committed to it, and can actively participate in a stable vanilla-blend partnership.

  Do you have an all consuming foot fetish? If so, you could be the foot slave I am looking for. Duties to include full pedicures, moisturising, massaging and stroking etc. you may also be used as a foot stool should I so desire.  you must be be no further than an hour from me ( East Sussex ) as weekly visits will be required if not more. Shortlisted, you will be given my location and required to meet Me over coffee or wine, depending on my mood. Reply with FOOT SLAVE in the title and garnish me with why you should be considered. One line messages will be deleted. Stand out from the crowd.  M M 

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.  

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part II: Temperature Chains” T.L. Duncan He knelt perfectly still in front of the red chair, hands behind his back, shoulders trembling just enough for me to know he was alive inside the anticipation. Good. He should tremble. Temperature chains demand obedience. I stepped behind him and let the room settle into silence. A long silence. Long enough that he started to doubt what he’d feel first. Then I touched the back of his neck with warm oil. He inhaled sharply. The oil wasn’t hot—just body-warm. Comforting. Seductive. A touch that coaxed him into trust before breaking it. “My warmth first,” I murmured. I smoothed the oil over the top of his shoulders, slow strokes that lulled him into lowering his guard. His breath lengthened. His muscles softened. His head tilted forward in surrender. Good. Perfect, actually. Now I changed the temperature. The ice cube was newly unwrapped, frosty and dripping between my fingers. He didn’t hear it. He didn’t expect it. And that made it exquisite. I pressed it to the same spot I had just warmed. He jerked like a current ran through him—but he stayed kneeling. “Good boy,” I said quietly. The praise landed deep. I traced the ice down the line of his spine, a slow, cruel descent. He shuddered uncontrollably, head dropping forward, breath catching on every inch. Then I wiped the trail dry with a heated cloth—soft, warm, soothing. His whole body swayed, caught between two opposites with no ability to prepare for either. “That’s the point of temperature chains,” I whispered. “Your body stops guessing. It just reacts.” He exhaled a broken sound—half moan, half plea. I circled him, letting the warm cloth ghost over his chest, then replaced it with the ice again, pressing it to the hollow of his throat. He gasped and froze. “Don’t move,” I warned. He didn’t. He barely breathed. I let the ice melt in a slow path over his skin, then chased the trail with my warm palm. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. His head fell back against my thigh. “You’re unraveling beautifully,” I said, cupping the side of his face gently—warm palm, cold fingertips. He whimpered at the contrast. Now that he was soft and undone, the next sequence would hit harder. I dipped my fingers in the warm oil again, then traced a circle over his sternum. He relaxed. And just as the comfort settled— I lifted the chilled metal spoon. He didn’t see it. He didn’t hear it. He only felt the shock when it touched the same oiled spot. He choked on a moan. His hands flexed behind his back. His body bowed toward me. “Hold your position,” I commanded, voice velvet and steel at once. He froze, trembling uncontrollably now, his body shaking with a desperate cocktail of cold, warmth, need, and obedience. I moved the spoon lower, then chased it immediately with warmed fingertips. His breath stuttered. His knees nearly buckled. “Your body can’t predict me anymore,” I said softly into his ear. “That’s what surrender feels like.” He nodded, barely able to speak. “Good,” I whispered. “Because your final temperature test will break what’s left of your control.” I stepped away to prepare it—just out of his line of sight, just enough for the dread and desire to twist together. “Be still,” I said. “Lesson three begins now.” He was still kneeling, barely holding himself together. The temperature chains had wrecked his sense of predictability, and I could feel it in the shivers running through him. Now it was time to take the one thing he had left— his mind. I stepped behind him, deliberately quiet, until my thighs brushed the edge of his shoulders. He stiffened, waiting for the next sensation. But I gave him nothing. No touch. Just silence. Then I leaned down until my lips hovered a hair’s breadth from his ear. “Don’t look for my hands,” I whispered. “My voice is what owns you right now.” His breath hitched. Good. I let my breath warm the shell of his ear, slow and soft—not touching, just threatening the touch. He froze in place like prey that knows the predator is right behind it. “You feel that?” I murmured. “Yes… Ma’am…” “That’s not me touching you,” I said. “That’s me deciding you deserve to feel my breath.” He shuddered so hard his balance wavered. I slid one hand behind his neck—not gripping, just resting there, letting him know I could take hold at any moment—but my mouth stayed at his ear. “Your body reacts before you can think,” I whispered. “And that turns me on more than anything else.” He exhaled sharply, a small, helpless sound. I didn’t touch him yet. Instead, I let my lips barely graze the upper curve of his ear—so faint that he might have imagined it. A ghost of contact. A promise. He whimpered. Then I broke the almost-touch with a cold whisper: “Keep your hands behind your back.” “I— I am, Ma’am…” “Good. Because if you lift one finger to steady yourself, this ends.” His spine straightened in panic and obedience at the same time. Now he was mine. I brought my mouth closer, slow and controlled, until the tip of my nose brushed the soft edge of his jaw. “Do you know what I want right now?” I whispered. “No, Ma’am…”

 DirtyDarling