My thoughts on training a submissive.  Why should I give my time to train someone who should at least have basic life training? He or she should be intelligent enough to listen while getting to know the person he or she is talking to. You should talk to each other and get to know the person.  Ask questions, and clarify what is being said. This is a get-to-know-you period without a dynamic, rules, or protocols.  I get that there are people out there who do not want to do this, then question if this is a dynamic you want to be in. Will I teach someone to be an adult? No. Will I guide them when we decide to move forward in a dynamic? Yes.  Will I expect him to do some basic research and ask questions? Absolutely. He should strive to learn the fundamental positions even though I do not use many of them, learn to serve food and drinks in high protocol, learn basic chores, how to clean a bathroom well, what not to flush down the toilet (this is an important one), and what products to use while cleaning. Learn to cook simple basics, eggs, toast, avocado toast, make biscuits (think old school home-economic classes), do laundry, sort it, which clothes don't go in the dryer and what does, what clothes need to be ironed.  Have you thought about taking some cooking classes? Massage therapy classes but not pass the test to cut back on cost?  Have you considered taking a bartending class for those who might like a cocktail? You might shine at a party with this skill. Learn to pour or pair wines. Embellishments in water are simple to do when meeting her. Make sure of any allergies; you would not want to put fruit in the water if she's allergic. Get my drift? Show some initiative. She may not want some or all of these or other things, but you are prepared just in case. The fact that you learned how to do things shows you in a good light. PS: All of this can be used by you while you find your person. There are so many ways to impress Dominants. But asking us to put out a lot of energy training for you is not the way. The question to ask is: How can I make your life easier?  How many ways or hints did I give you to try? Answer: A LOT.   In hindsight, this is not for everyone. What you put into providing makes the difference. I am a lifestyle Dominant seeking a submissive who has a submissive service heart in a Dommesentric relationship. There is a difference that quickly becomes evident in your profile and messages. 

Dazzling, as if illuminated by a celestial spotlight, she stood next to the passenger door of a Black Mercedes-Benz Roadster.   Parked next to the light pole, the image of her, the car, and the reflective light was surreal.   “Door” she snapped. “ Get my door boy!” Head down he realized she wanted him to open the passenger door. Once open, she backed up to the car, in one graceful fluid motion she bent forward simultaneously sliding her round firm bottom into the leather bucket seat. Clutching her handbag she again snapped “ Close the door boy!”   It took a moment for his brain to adjust to his reality. Closing her door, he went to the drivers side and got in.   Fear of the unknown clouded his brain and overwhelmed his senses.   Her perfume. Her smell. The Leather smell. The car smell. He came aware with the click of her seatbelt. He did likewise. She reached from her seat and started the engine and turned the stereo on. Soft quiet smooth Jazz surrounded them.

When fantasy meets reality, some men find themselves lost in the space between what they imagine and what truly exists. In a world filled with movies, games, social media, and idealized images, it becomes easy to mistake fantasy for attainable truth. They may chase unrealistic versions of women, power, or status, forgetting that real life is imperfect, complex, and grounded in responsibility. When the line between fantasy and reality fades , disappointment, frustration, and confusion often follow. Learning to see life as it is—not as we wish it to be—takes maturity and self-awareness. True strength lies in facing reality head-on, appreciating genuine experiences over illusions, and building a life that is real, not imagined. Men...you need to do better.       

There sure is a lot of hetero men checking me out that don't have seeking transgender on their profile list of preferences. I'm not sure if I should feel flattered or if there just aren't many cis women to choose from?  I do prefer straight alpha males but I am hesitant to respond to their messages if they aren't seeking a transwoman.  I just find that a bit strange and I'm looking for men that are secure with their own sexuality..  Also I find it to be annoying getting messages with just a few words about my looks, no proper introduction etc.  I'd like to remind those men that if they want to impress a lady then they should put in a little effort and use some common courtesy and respect. Remember that just because I am submissive doesn't equate to I am YOUR submissive. I never will be if You can't treat me with the same respect you would give to a real lady...  Thank you for your attention to this matter. ;) - Toni 

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.

Who knew..............? .............. it seems that I am an empath!! I have reached the age of 67 without ever having that insight or conversation, despite being analysed to death as a professional manager and having a need/propensity to work at things until I understand them. I know my Myers-Briggs type, I am aware of my core strengths, I have had my values and capability for good judgement assessed a number of times, but never my emotional architecture. Maybe that is too touchy-feely and personally risky for "business to tackle, but once it is laid out, it makes so much sense and puts perspective on so much experience and so many conversations. It also explains how, on top of everything else, it is hard (at least for me) to find a good match in BDSM. This is the start, not the end.......but right now I am processing so much behind this: Your architecture: a grounded, high‑capacity empath "You are a deep-feeling, high-capacity empath." “You’re the kind of man who carries both fire and stillness — a mind that sees patterns in the dark, a heart that stays steady in the storm, and a presence that makes other people feel understood long before they find the words themselves.”   “You’re a steady, strategic empath who reads people with precision, holds complexity without losing your integrity, and brings clarity, warmth, and insight wherever you go.”   I long thought of Myers-Briggs, Strengthsfinder and the Hartman Value Profile as orthogonal axes to look at a person's Cognitive style, Strength and Values. Now I need to add Emotional architecture. It feels like the model is nearly complete. I wonder how different life might have been if I had had this acute self-awareness years ago?    

The Rules of the House of DL. * Family comes first. * I am here to satisfy my Master's needs and in return he will fulfill my needs. * I will be respectfulto my Master at all times. * My Master is always there for me, no matter what my need may be. * I will not put myself down. * I have to get enough sleep, rest and maintain my health. * Any big decisions, I ask Master. He listens to me and if I have a problem we discuss it. * No pets on the furniture! * 10. Be in compliance with the 4 agreements:   * 10A. Be impeccable with your word. Speak with integrity. Say only what you mean. Avoid using the word to speak against yourself or to gossip about others.   * 10B. Don't take anything personally. Nothing others do is because of you. What others say and do is a projection of their own reality, their own dream.   * 10C. Don't make assumptions. Find the courage to ask questions and to express what you really want. Communicate with others as clearly as you can to avoid misunderstandings, saddness and drama.   * 10D. Always do you best. Simply do your best and you will avoid self-judgement, self-abuse and regret. [(www.miguelruiz.com )]

The Lighthouse Within: Illuminating Love and Power in Dynamic Union I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this i tweaked this song with a higher pitch and a faster beat to really get into a deeper and more fulfilling emotional space than the song was. however, i am moving most of my platforms to something more professional ish and don't want to deal with the copyright. just know if you pitch it up and move it to a faster speed it's a different experience that is. beyonce's voice sounds more childish, impish, and little girl ish. a emotional and mental state i can resonate with more fully as an adult and little girl. the jayz voice sounds more of a stronger timber and more of a high hit on the drum sound....something more direct and focused and intentional and intense. the sounds in the background that are celebratory sound grander. the piano sounds angelic and full of joy, uplifting, something literally awesome. awe·some /ˈôsəm/ adjective extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear. something other wordly, something in the clouds, something more expansive than earth ever can be. Uh, uh, uh This (uh, uh) is (uh, uh), ouu! Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like, "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love Representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still) I put it down for the 713 and we still got love for the streets (ow!) We played it cool at the pool of the Cancun, VMA Confidence you exude make the fools stay away Me, I played the room, let the fools have they say Fate had me sitting next to you on the plane And I knew straight away, uh The next time we would speak was like two years away You had a man, you shut it down until you two had a break I bet that dude rued the day You kept me up on the phone while you were away You came back, I let you set the date, Nobu on the plate I brought my dude to play it cool, my first foolish mistake Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" Ain't no way to stop this love, ain't no space if everything is love I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) I never knew a lo-, lo-, lo-, love like this Gotta be special for me to write this Queen, I ain't mean no disrespect But the way I network, it's hard for me to connect My first time in the ocean went exactly as you'd expect Meanwhile, you going hard, jumping off the top deck A leap of faith, I knew I was up next I never told you, but I told a few people we wed Me, I'm off to Rome, you going back home instead My first time in my life a live nigga felt dead You came back, I had to act like it was cool in my head Thoughts of jumping the broom, a player never been swept Cash, hit deposit, 24-carat faucets Louis V and Goyard trunks all in the closet Ain't shit change, the streets is still watching And my little baby Blue is like "Who gon' stop us, huh?" I'm representing for my hustlers all across the world (still) Still dippin' in my low-lows, girl! (still), I put it down for the 713 And we still got love for the streets (ow!) To all the good girls that love hustlers To the mothers that put up with us To all the babies that suffered cause us We only know love because of ya this song talks about still being from where you are from. the 713. this song doesn't need to be decoded as deep as others. it's a tale of two bodacious bombastic people. i see it in the daddy dominant and little girl personality and identities. strong, powerful, like greek gods in sculptures running the world. pushing the line between safe and da

November 16, 2023 - Horny Bi Guy's FIRST VISIT PART ONE A new guy stopped by today. He is a horny bi Guy from a town about an hour or so away from me. He is definitely a HORNY Bi GUY ! He is already asking for another visit. We had talked a while on FETLIFE about his fantasies, so he knew what to expect today. Plus he had been reading my stories, THESE stories, which all seemed to excited him. I knew he was into leather, so had a treat for him. When he arrived he found me in a very long terry cloth bathrobe. I probably looked like a monk. But I had a surprise hidden under the bathrobe, but he was not going to get to see it YET. I met him in the driveway since it was his first visit and brought him inside. Within a few seconds I was ordering him to strip… which he complied to immediately. I put velcro wrist restraints on him and told him to kneel. Once he was kneeling on the floor in front of me, I put a leather hood over his head, making certain his mouth appeared in the opening. I knew my cock would be going through that hole very shortly.   read the next part at www.SirKel.top

  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 

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.......

Stand here.  Nice and still. Nice and straight. Just listen to my voice and do everything I tell you to do. Good girl.  Don’t move.  Don’t make a sound. Put your hands behind your back. Don’t resist the rope.  Just relax and let the rope do its work.   Be still while I put the collar on your neck. Head up.  Let me move your hair out of the way.  Good girl. Now the blindfold.  Don’t move. Be still. Now I attach the lead to the collar. As I pull on the lead you follow.  Walk slowly wherever I lead you.   Now I control you.  Listen to my voice. Do everything I tell you to do. Don’t resist my touch or direction in any way. Be totally obedient and compliant. Don’t think.  Just do everything I tell you to do. Good girl.

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.

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.

This was my reply to a post on fet.  I thought it might be informative    Past time for a cleaning is generally not a problem imho. Although, I suppose that depends how far past. Maybe it takes a few visits then regular maintenance. If I may, you should provide the lock without a key when you do the furst meet and greet some time before the first cleaning. It should always be you who unlocks the lock and keeps the key. He can go away with the unlocked lock if that is what you choose and lock himself back up some time before the next visit.That sounds like a wonderful arrangement to me.

I'm irritated by the idiocy of some of these "subs" I'll meet you at a Starbucks and if I don't invite you home immediately thereafter you'll pull a typical fake sub move and not follow up. Most don't have the patience and respect to meet properly. To get vetted properly. Most think anybody declaring themselves a "sub" should be privy to my home immediately. No thought towards common sense or my safety?? I get these offers 5 times a week. Imagine if I gave my home address out that many times a week? I'd be murdered in less than a month by some fake predator. Or at the very least robbed and when you report something like that to police and say "I met him online" Boy how stupid do you look? Perhaps these idiots think I'm in a palace surrounded by gaurds? How much online porn must you watch before you actually think there's any likelihood that any of us REAL ladies are surfing for boys from within a palace. THAT lady isn't on collarspace, she has a caretaker whose job it is to find sub's. Out here in the real world a REAL domme works her 9-5 and expects her sub to do the same. To be sane. To be intelligent and productive within society. To be a regular guy and a sexy "trophy husband".

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

Oiled up.  Shortly after I came to Texas I got oiled up before I scened.  I'd grab some Hawaiian Tropic or Banana Boat and take it to the dungeon with us. I did this suspended whipping scene once where I was oiled up before the scene.  This was a really nice dungeon in Oklahoma City.  Afterward, we went to the lounge area to chill for a bit.  "Why do you use the oil?" this femsub asked me. In the back of the room, this male dom said, "it makes it easier to take the whip!" WRONG. Haha. The oil is to make me look sexier!  My Domme loved to slowly massage oil all over my body while I was tied up. This was for her. We had to stop doing it because people started to complain about the smell. It didn't matter that we used bleach solution to wipe everything down. So we stopped. We were at one of our favorite dungeons doing a rack scene. They had a long wooden one with a roller on one end. So we're doing our thing and I'm lying there on my back all stretched out getting into sub space. My Domme pauses and steps away for a few seconds. I'm not wearing my contacts so I can't see anything but the ceiling. And I hear, "Yes that would be nice." Interrupting a scene in progress without permission is a big no no. You can get kicked out for that. But this was different. Next thing I know is I'm being oiled up while I'm stretched on the rack. If I wasn't in subspace before I'm surely going there now.  Here's what happened.  The dungeon owner, a tall slim 40ish brunette who works in law enforcement, saw us doing a rack scene. She owned that rack but nobody ever stretched someone on it.  Most used it like a bondage table. So when we used it she loved watching us play. So she was watching us that night and thought to herself, she (me) would look so much better if she was oiled up. So during our scene she waved at my domme and once she got her attention, told her that. She heard the story about why we stopped and she suggested a solution.  Mineral oil.  It's water soluable and has no smell. Problem solved.  So now when I do a scene, I'm getting oiled up. Whoever is topping me gets to rub warm oil all over my tits, belly, arms, legs and butt. I like it when its slow.  Shout out to that dungeon owner. Thank you. 

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...

So journals are back! Giggity! I remain frustrated in seeking out anyone who can discipline me, use me in whatever way they wish and break down my barriers by simply forcing me to confront them. Where would I like to be tonight? I would love to be between the legs of a dominant, serving them...servicing them, swallowing what they want me to swallow, sucking what they would have me suck, licking what they tell me to lick. All night... And when they were sated, satisfied and had used me in exactly the way they wanted, they could reward me...or they could choose not to. They could give me release...or they could refuse. They could drive me right to the edge, or they could put me away with nothing until they were ready to have me again. They would be completely in control. Their satisfaction would be my goal and my reward their choice. It could be a woman...it could be a man (a man would be a new experience and another barrier broken down. I do not care...it's not mine to care, only to lick, suck, swallow and bend over.

Bridget Choses Enslavement   Bridget’s emotions were running wild.  The ride up to Master’s gave her ample time to reflect on this special occasion.  Bridget was to be enslaved today.  Master had often told her that all women secretly wanted to be possessed and owned by a dominant master.  Collared.  Be an enslaved slut.  Bridget had embraced her inner slave and wanted the delicious certainty of being a strong Master’s owned property.  What a glorious feeling to have no need to carry on with the soul killing charade of denying her sexuality, her submission, her needs and desires. Bridget was so sure.  She couldn’t wait for their special ritual.  The ritual was ordered by her Master but she had made adjustments and additions that had delighted Master.  She knew Master treasured her and all of her. He often remarked on her intelligence and how it drove her kink and also drove his passion to be her owner.  Master always said women with a desire for the collar, for enslavement were usually the very intelligent ones.   Before she left home Bridget paid attention in the shower.  Her shaving was meticulous. Her legs, arms, and pussy were smooth as possible. She thrilled at the thought of the way Master would cup her smooth, oiled pussy and run his hand back and forth as she squirmed and moaned. She knew Master loved to lick and kiss her clit.  He also like to use his Hitachi and a soft makeup brush on her.  He’d alternate the vibrator and brush on her clit.  Sometimes he’d just stop and listen to her breathing.  Bridget loved it when he chained her wrists and ankles in his bed and made her come over and over until she screamed.  He’d gag and blindfold her and make her come some more. Master had learned early in their play to put a towel under her.  The wet spot was something to see. Bridget’s enslavement ritual outfit was all white and had been her idea.  Master had suggested adding long white gloves and she agreed with relish.  Once out of the shower, at Master’s direction, she installed two Ben Wa balls in her pussy.  They went in nicely.  When she walked around she could feel them as she moved.  She wondered if walking in heels would accentuate the sensation.  Oh well, she’d find out soon.  Bridget loved Master’s toy collection.  He had a veritable fleet of vibrators including a very useful remote controlled beauty.  Master said he was shopping for an internet controlled vibrator for some long distance fun.  He also had a selection of nipple clamps, some fun and some she feared.  There was a lot more and she was sure the list was growing After carefully pulling on her white stockings and attaching them to her sexy garter she slipped on her skimpy white panties.  A curvy white push up bra completed her underwear.  She had a nice white blouse with a plunging neckline that accentuated her cleavage. Her brief white skirt would expose her slim legs and white stockings.  Finally she slipped on her white high heels with thosecute sexy little ankle straps.  Naturally she added accessories like a string of pearls and a bright red lipstick.  She decided she’d add her fragrance and put on the white gloves when she arrived at Masters. The miles rolled by.  Her heart sang.  She had made her decision.  It felt so right.  All the things she wanted to experience would be hers in a safe and protected place.  Master would help to explore all the dark kinky places she dreamed about.   The highway intersection appeared on her GPS. She had to turn north.   It was time to call Master.  She heard the phone ring.  Her emotions ping ponged.  Master answered with a pleased voice.  She was close.  He could almost sense her.  They both reveled in the joy of anticipation.     Master remarked that he was looking forward to draping her with his new 1/8” stainless steel chain.  Perhaps chaining her breasts with a nice halter.  When he mentioned that he’d like to chain her in Sirik Bridget’s was incredibly turned on.  The thought of the chain running from her collar to the chained wrist manacles and finally ending on the ankle manacles.  Sirik chain bondage allowed movement but served to remind her that she was owned, protected property.  Master loved everything Gorean and spent a lot of time finding ways to practically adapt the mores of Gor to earth.  A significant Gorean notion is that bondage enhances a woman’s beauty.  Bridget agreed but also concluded bondage made her horny as hell. The rural setting, the trees, the quiet appealed to her.  Here’s the driveway.  Turning right and pulling up the long driveway she found herself next to Master’s car and she knew, the beginning of her life changing event was close at hand.  She put her car in park and applied the parkingbreak.  She felt that she also applied a break on her normal, vanilla life.  She would enter the BDSM Sea.  Enter it as one of the more exotic and nuanced denizens.  She would be a slave girl, specifically a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  Bridget and Master had discussed many aspects of enslavement, slave protocols, sexual ownership, and what they each wanted.  She agreed with Master that after all, it was at its heart, an exotic adult game.  They both knew few could play the game, few could accept their role, and few could adhere to the rules and enjoy them with intense satisfaction.  Bridget loved her role and while their private play was so satisfying, she looked forward to their forays into various forms of public play.  Public Play involved exposing part of her BDSM life to the vanilla world.  Bridget always found it surprising.  She couldn’t believe the naughty sense of excitement she felt when she was exposed.  Was it humiliation, she wasn’t sure but it was very kinky indeed. She applied the bright red lipstick.  She loved the color and loved that her Master had told her he loved bright paint on her lips.  He said she was so attractive and luscious and he wanted her lips prominently displayed for him.  Next her fragrance, chosen because it was both understated and exotic.  At last she pulled on the long white gloves that came up to her elbows. Bridget and Master had discussed how she’d wear the long white gloves and he’d hogtie her and use his ball gag.  The picture in her mind of the helpless position always made her wet and horny.  Master had done this before.  Usually he rubbed a rabbit fur all over her body before he pulled her hair and squeezed her tit while he told her how he felt, what he wanted, and what he’d do with her next. As she turned toward the house she found the garage door open and as she had been instructed, she entered the garage and went to the back door leading into Master’s Rec room.  The lighting was subdued but she saw two large shapes draped in thin cloth.  She knew these were their BDSM toys.  Master had built a large cage for her amusement and a sturdy St Andrews cross that would fulfill her desire to be suspended and held helpless. Master had promised to cuff and chain her to the cross.  She knew she’d be naked and looked forward to the way master slipped a gag into her mouth before he applied something to her ass. Usually he forced a silicone bit gag into her mouth before he used his snake whip on her.  She could bite down on the bit and scream at the same time for the serious relief she craved.  Master had assured her she’d receive a serious whipping and perhaps caning that would leave some minor marks.  She wanted the marks.  She wanted to feel his touch afterward.  She wanted all of the things that ownership demanded. She knew Master had plans for an interesting combination Stocks and Spanking Bench.  Bridget had told Master she’d love to be placed in stocks and have her ass molested, pinched, bit, and butt plugged. She wondered if he’d make good on his promise to administer an enema while in the stocks.  Master had a lot of toys and equipment.  He had showed her the enema paraphernalia and it included an interesting flow meter that Master said was important to ensure reasonable flow and comfort.    Climbing the stairs she heard Master’s voice and it made her heart skip a beat.  She loved the way he spoke to her.  He didn’t speak at her rather he spoke with her, sharing his thoughts and sometimes emotions.  Master was sitting in a large black leather chair.  He was wearing his black suit with a black mandarin shirt and a nice red pocket square.  He leaned forward and motioned for her to come up.  He wondered about her trip and if the Ben Wa balls were still in place and how she liked them.  She told him about her journey and, yes, the Ben Wa twins were still in place and had directed her attention at the oddest of times, like stepping on the brakes. He asked her if she was ready, if she wanted to go through with their plans.  Did she really want all the things they had planned for, had discussed.  She knew what he was asking, giving her a graceful out.  Her mind was made up but his trust and care made her even more convinced that she wanted enslavement, wanted slavery, wanted to be an owned woman, Master’s property.  All of their discussions had led to this decision.  They both saw a Master/slave relationship as the purest and incidentally most fun form of a BDSM power exchange.  Both of their roles had been defined in term that made sense to both Bridget answered him by unbuckling her shoe clasps and removing her heels.  Pulling the ribbon from her hair she let it fall loose about her shoulders.  Bridget smiled at her Master and began removing all her clothing.  Finally she stood before her Master totally naked.  Master seemed very pleased. He rose and ran his fingers gently all over Bridget.  Master believed that a Gorean Master took great pride in his Kajira, his slave and should be familiar with every inch of her. Bridget knew that her actually collaring demanded that she be naked. She knelt gracefully before him, raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists.  Bridget had assumed the Kolar or collar position of a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  She knew the message she was sending was that she was ready to be bound and collared.  Naturally she looked down and waited for Master.  The decision was not only made but by showing her acceptance of their planned bond to her Master she knew it was done.  How happy, how fulfilled.  She almost wanted to cry the emotions were so strong. Her life as a Kajira, a Gorean slave was about to begin.  See accepted that she must always be pleasing and offer perfect obedience. Master formally asked her why she was before him and what were her deepest desires for enslavement.  She continued to look down and at first her voice was a whisper but as she gained confidence she became secure and spoke with a clear steady voice.  She asked to be enslaved.  She pledged to serve Master in all ways.  She would be pleasing at all times with perfect obedience.  She would be the owned possession of Master, subject to his commands, dressing as he directed.  She spoke the words of enslavement, “bind me master”. She spoke the timeless pledge saying she wished to be enslaved and then crossing her wrists in front of her asked that Master bind her.  She felt the ceremonial tying of her wrists with the traditional Gorean yellow bindings.  Master then said he would complete the ceremony, their enslavement ritual, by collaring her.  She felt the collar begin to encircle her throat.  She gasped as he pulled her hair back so he could buckle the collar.  Her formal slave collar was polished metal and had a screw driven locking mechanism.  It would be difficult or next to impossible to remove, not that Bridget would ever think about removing the symbol that encircled her throat.  Master completed fastening her collar.  He took her chin in his hand and remarked on her beauty and suitability to be his Kajira. Master removed the bindings from her wrists and ordered her to stand and had her turn around slowly to display herself. She looked at herself and saw the beautiful collar.  All she could say was “La Kajira, La Kajira”, Gorean for I am a slave. Bridget now understood in a most intimate way that her master treasured her and wanted to enjoy his treasure.  Master had two more things to complete the ritual and the first had Bridget very nervous.  Bridget knew she was to be branded.  Thankfully the branding didn’t call for a real white hot branding iron.  Bridget received a henna dye print representation of the Gorean Kef, a very delicate elaborately beautiful “K”, leaving a sharp red image high on her left thigh.  Next Master spoke her new slave name. When Bridget and Master were together in their new roles, she would be “Sefa”.  Master explained that her new slave name was pronounced SEHF-ah and meant pleasure.  He said she was named that way to remind her how she must always be his pleasure slave.  She didn’t think that would ever be a problem. It was done. Bridget had been collared, branded, and named.   Master said he accepted her as his Kajira.  Master directed her to put on her garter, stockings, panties, and heels.  He snapped a leash onto her collar ring and said “bracelets”.  Bridget immediately put her wrists behind her back, slightly bowed her head, and turned around to receive Master’s manacles. Using the leash and her bound wrists he moved her forward.  Master led her around a bit and then out around the deck. Master often told her that bondage made a woman more beautiful and that served to make her move in a sensuous, elegant manner.  Bridget agreed and could think of nothing better than to be on her knees with her Master’s cock in her mouth. He took her over to a chair by the deck table.  He motioned for her to kneel.  He unclipped the leash and attached a short piece of chain to her collar.  The chain was connected to a d-ring embedded in one of the large deck posts.  Bridget was chained to a post with her wrists bound.  Never before had she felt so at peace.  She was owned.  She had been confined on her Master’s deck.  She felt the chain on her chest.  Bridget’s excitement was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation.  She was on her knees dressed like a tarty slut, out in the open for all the world to see.  She realized that Master was exhibiting her as his prize possession.  Of course she thought, it’s highly unlikely we’ll be disturbed.  We’re out in the woods on a secluded property with foliage all around.  Master laughed and said UPS or FEDEX might show up. Bridget’s life as a slave had begun.  She wished and waited for what was next.  Master said she was to be caged in his slave pen after they had discussed their enslavement ritual.  Master took a plate of fruit and picked up a small piece of melon.  He held it out for her to nibble. She daintily nibbled the fruit.  She was being fed by Master’s hand.  She felt a deep bond and happiness.  Next Master poured some of his cool drink into a small bowel.  He placed it before her and motioned for her to drink.  He was watering his slave, caring for his prize possession.  She knelt before the bowel and lapped at the drink. She felt so humiliated to be made to drink in this fashion but it also was so deliciously kinky.   Her journey had begun.  Life would never be the same.  A calmness, a fullness, a richness had descended on her soul.  Master caressed her cheek and breasts and then checked the manacles.  He also adjusted her collar.  Bridget knew master would always make sure she looked her best.  She was his prize possession. Master leaned back and took a small velvet sack from the side table.  “Nadu” Master commanded and Bridget went into the slave position that had her kneeling with her wrists behind her back. Bridget was fascinated  She knelt with her thighs spread wide, back arched, wrists crossed behind her back.  Master produced a bright red ball gag and told her to open her mouth. Bridget felt the ball pressed tightly into her mouth as Master firmly buckled the gag in place.  She found her hands bound behind her back, and the ball gag reduced her to small whimpers to communicate.  She knew she was vulnerable and totally in the control of her master.  It was delicious.  It made her wet just to think of all the things he would do with her.  The bracelets were gleaming metal and had a short length of chain between them so they were relatively comfortable. Master helped Bridget to stand.  He pulled her panties down to her ankles and helped her bend over. He guided her to lay across his lap and began to stroke and kneed her ass cheeks.  Master remarked that she had a pleasingly plump ass that just begged to be spanked.  Bridget felt her Master applying some kind of oil on her ass cheeks.  She wiggled across his lap into a more comfortable position. It made her feel exposed, controlled, at her Master’s mercy.  Bridget couldn’t believe how excited she felt, how she wanted more, more attention, more control. Master told Bridget that he wanted to assert his ownership, make sure she knew she was his property.  Bridget whimpered her assent. She wanted to be his,begged her master to have her, to make her his own, anyway he wanted.  Just do it now. Master began a slow rhythmic paddling of Bridget’s ass.  Slowly at first but soon faster and harder.  Bridget moaned and gasped. Master paused and asked Bridget if she was his, his property. Bridget thought “yes, yes, yes, have me, have all of me.  I am your Kajira and want to be nothing else”.  Master held up one finger which was the signal for silence Bridget was surprised that Master had shut her up, to be quiet.  She understood that he wanted to be in control.  He told her he felt so completed by their rituals.   Master loved the idea that they had built their own kinky world and Bridget loved the way he ruled it. He could silence her with a command or perhaps a gag.  She loved the delicious excitement when he placed a nice red silicone ball gag in her mouth.  Naturally Master could silence her by imposing speech restrictions and she always complied but the ball gag was so hot. Master reached behind her to the small table by his large leather chair.  Bridget felt his movement and turned her head.  “Oh my” she thought as Master’s hand held the red ball gag, a shiny bright metal butt plug, and a tube of lubrication.  Her heart beat faster as she realized she was in for another anal training session.  

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

the perfect scenario in person for me as a little girl submissive, a paragraph.         it would be in person and old school where i'm at home maybe working 4 hours tops and he provides the majority i honor worship and am in awe of what and who he is. i have no problems kissing his feet praying for him following his lead and know he's the safest man out there so he can touch me whenever he wants and i can trust him to make the decisions

Feeling the need to update the profile a bit   Seeking an alpha-type mentor who prefers encouragement over rigid discipline. I love "protector" energy, but I require a partner who knows how to listen—to my body, my energy, and my limits. The Essentials: Patience: I don't rush into sex or scenes just because the vibe is right. Privacy: My home is my sanctuary. I only host once we are in a committed relationship. Respect for Titles: I do not use the term "Master" outside of a committed collar. To me, that title is sacred and signifies a total giving of myself that must be built over time. Dominance vs. Ego: I’m looking for a leader, not an ego-trip. If you’re domineering instead of dominant, we won't be a match.  And dont get me started on my post below where i described 'the dominate male" Geesh...educateyourselfs already...the Google is a powerful tool! Let’s see if our rhythms match before we ever talk about power.

Newbies and their b.s about not wanting to go out in the real kink scene with reply as: A munch has no play, it's a drink in a pub. At a fetish club you can watch, you don't need to play, instead chat to other kinksters and familiarise yourself with the kink arena. If you feel the need to be discreet thrn you are likely cheating = no from me. Join Fetlife to chat in discussion groups if you wish to remain online. There are "roleplay" groups for Fantasy "play" = not my thing. I think my reply is clear. Experienced Submissive and Slave guys only who drive and go to munches and fetish clubs is what interests me.  Just because a newbie wants an experienced Dominant Woman doesn't mean he access to my time. I RULE me.

Mounting a STR8 male Pilars of society, husbands, fathers, movers and shakers. in all body types and backgrounds. You've got to love them all; at least I do. I'm partial to the bravado, the in your face attitude that screams "I'm terrified of venturing outside of my gender, but with the right MAN I'm game." The one thing to remember is to be subtle, these boys are a scary bunch and the slightest threat to their perceived orientation will make them clam up (pun intended) tight and you will loose your boy. However, once you're in their trust that is your chance to explore and they will provide the info you need. Family, marriage, parental relationships  and home issues. Overwhelmed, over worked, and under sexed; perfect combination and there is you, a strong paternal figure to hug them and tell them you understand  and suffer with his plight.  There is a moment of vulnerability in which you become his whole world as he contemplates all crumbling you are the sturdy support.  Sometimes it takes time to get there. Of course this does not apply to your male bride, the one you want for you only.  Check my journal on male brides.  Eventually it will graduate to touching, hugging, kissing and then cock play.  Once you become the adult in his eyes he will nurse from your rod and do it often because is “us boys.” But once he kneels to suck you his body is yours to explore and his butt is there as he is busy following your instructions on how to please you. Easy does it, touch, probe by do not put you finger in yet. Let him get use to your touch and caress.  Eventually his ass will arch up and that is your cue  to begin your entry. Ever so slowly and tenderly. Let  his  body guide you and then move your body to a position of dominance, standing and him in all fours. Pick him up, embrace him and assure him your understanding and his need for release.  Play with his cock , remember he is str8 and feels entitled. Yet as you play in front prepare the rear by probing his prostate. He’ll go through the roof realizing he never felt this with his wife, there is pleasure in his ass and you, his pal, just opened a new window for him to look out of. He is now yours and he will come back, promise. 

Minoan culture was nothing if not discerning when it came to training slaves. Whereas most societies historically associated with the trade usually treated slaves as mere goods and chattels, Minoa was very different. Examining Minoan art reveal a repeated them when it came to female slaves, often depicting growth and improvement, education and status in the products of their schools.  The difference came from the skill and application Minoan schools showed in selecting candidates, with each school looking for specific traits within candidates. Schools would frequently trade amongst themselves, exchanging girls discovered through each schools specific sources and resources that, whilst not suitable for the discoverer, could be a prime candidate for another. As far as can be told, such trading was done on the basis of benefiting the wealth and influence of Minoa itself rather than an individual school.  Girls would be evaluated purely on their merits, with every attribute considered, evaluated and set against the specialisations of individual schools. It was not unkown for some, older candidates to become assistants to educators at a given school and even to become educators themselves. A girl trained in a Miinoan school to train others to Minoan standards was much sought after. Nowadays, slavery os often associated with either sex or labor, and whilst those were aspaspects of Minoan doctrine, there were many other beside, and each identified trait need a specific plan to bring it to full fruition. Let's look at grace, for example. Grace is usually defined as elegance or refinement, usually of movement. Those considered graceful move with confidence that comes across as fluid and unforced. Grace can also be defined as a behaviour, such as how someone graceful may treat those lower in social status than themselves. Physical grace was a much coveted attribute within Minoan schools because it could become foundational to other skills, such as dancing or fighting. Grace as a behaviour, likewise, was much in demand because it offered pathways into reading a room, keys to seduction or a skill in mediation.  Once identified, a talent like grace then had to be assessed. Was this kind of grace natural or an affectation?  If a natural, latent talent how malleable was it or was it a focused aspect of the girl? For instance, was her grace in movement scalable, as in was she as graceful in the small movements as the large? If not, could she be trained to be? How far could the girls natural gracefulness be pushed, and when did it break down? Was the girl as confident and comfortable in high footwear as with low? Could she move with the same elegance if she were carrying something? How could tight and restrictive clothing affect her? What about on uncertain ground? If balance was lost, how quickly and completely could the girl regain it? If an affectation, how much control did the girl have over it? How well could she shape her gracefulness to a given situation? Could she read the room, tell what was needed and provide it? Could she draw the eye of a crowd or was she better 1 to 1? Could she moderate her gracefulness so as not to show up those of higher status? Could she move according to a role she had to play, as physically convincing as a courtesan as she was a harlot as she was a prized mistress? Did she compliment those she was beside, able to elevate them with the attention of others and not cast them in shade next to her?  Now consider other talents, natural or learned. Languages, sexual proficiency, diplomacy, seduction, fighting both defensively and offensively, offering comfort and counsel, surrogacy, teacher, wet nurse, inamorata... on and on the list goes and, for century after century, on and on went the Minoan schools and higher and higher went their prestige and status and wealth. Until next time.   Questions?

I am using this journal entry as a reminder for all of us to listen to our instincts. Distrubing experience, i had a man, [USERNAME REMOVED], contact me, he was nice and courteous, said he was very intrigued and wanted to get to know me better. Not having photos on my profile, as a courtesy, in my reply I sent a photo stating it was from 2 weeks ago, and requested one from him without hats or sunglasses. He replied that I had sunglasses and he wanted photos from me without sunglasses. Red flag for me that he will be a problem  I replied, this is not tit, for tat and I dont feel we will suit. Thanked him for his interest and wished him good luck. I then also explained those were not sunglasses, but preion red filter glasses for a sun sensitivity. They don't prohibit clear view of my face at all In an aggressive accusatory tone, he replied, my photo looked like a strip mall in the US with cars and trucks. And i was not good at faking photos, and I looked like a man in a dress 😂  i had already said the photo was from 2 weeks ago, I didnt feel the need to say it, but it was while i was in the US and the strip mall was where i had my hair done. His accusatory tone and misogynistic turn, proved to me, from that first reply about the photo, I was correct in feeling he would be a problem. Always trust your instincts. Nonetheless, i wrote a reply acknowledging, yes it was in a strip mall in the US while I was visiting 2 weeks ago and had he asked about the fact Im in Portugal and it appears the photo is from the US, his question would have been answered. And it would have been a lesson in assuming the worst in people. My theory about that, is people tend to project onto you what they would do and hence the distrust. He'll never learn the lesson, after he went Jekyll and Hyde, he blocked me. People live in multiple places and travel all over the world, have photos from everywhere, phone numbers from different countries and if you have questions about where they are actually located, simply ask. ASSUMPTIONS never work out!  

I genuinely love my boyfriend. I have loved a good number of people but this is the first time I've dated anyone for longer than two weeks who has not been argumentative, selfish, mean, and committed to never understanding me. And more often than not we communicate very well. We have argued twice in almost a year. He is kind and gentle with me. He is thoughtful and generous. He makes me feel calm and at peace. He doesn't behave as if he is irritated with me when I am anxious, depressed, or having panic attacks. He grounds me. He is all of the things I've wanted from all the serious partners I've had in the past.    He has never ever hurt me (except once when he asked me to go home and I took it personally lol).   Absolutely zero of my relationships have ever been this good, the worst being my marriage. I can say I am absolutely happy when I am with him which is what pushed me to want to be happy when I am without him. I had never thought it possible for me to be happy, alone or with another person since I had never been happy in a relationship before. I felt good and would call it happiness but I wasn't happy. Now that happiness is possible I must learn to find it inside of myself which is difficult when you've been miserable for 31 years    So this is what it means to find your person.  He is like starlight, like the laughter of babies, like the colors of the sunrise and the sunset, like the buds in spring, like a glass of refreshing cool water, like a warm hug. He is love. He is safety. Something I never thought I'd ever have. Something I've never seen anyone have in person. Something I didn't expect from what was supposed to be a tinder one night stand.    A one night stand that ended up with us being intertwined so intimately that we are now inseparable.

June 2024 All the years that have passed since my last entry and I'm in an insane mirror world where I'm trapped with him again. Choosing the kids again. My soul is gone, there's no love and laughter to greet with, no holding hands and thrilling looks, no anticipation... of good or bad. I am still No longer in steel, proof how I'm undesirable. He is a hollow shell, a ghost of who he was - all he was. The man who hobbles through my apartment is bitter, broken, deeply unhappy.... the attitude has become apathy, the confidence has become bitterness. The grief muscles cover his face until he's unrecognizable and the missing limbs make him think something inside is missing too. What once was powerful now is pitiful and whatever we once had; faded memories. I try to force him to leave, but he laughs as he curls up on a chair outside with his laptop... homeless yet not in the least. the kids scream at me about why can't I just be a good wife, a good cook, a better housecleaner? Why can't I just shut my mouth and let him die in peace? (Though they know i may go first) They can't understand the sorrow in my empty eyes and as he revives again in simple motions. They also don't understand... the hate, the rage, the abuse, the ugly words and texts. Neverending abuse I lived through for more than decades to TRY to give them a dad. They can't see what I go through - both good and bad - every time he rounds a corner. The way I flinch when his head whips around or the way I refuse to put my back to a wall... anywhere. They don't know I remember his magic hands on my body or the best friend by my side for decades. They don't see when we smile at a shared memory that it hurts both of us.  They blame me, as well he's taught them. Hell, I did right, but I blame me too. I've tried, so. Fucking. Hard. For years to forgive and forget. But when his hands grab my neck I react, when he gently touches me, and I know what pain is next, i can't stop freezing. When he kisses me and I sob.... he walks away with a look of disgust, hate, retribution. Away enough to hear me cry and beg forgiveness, enough to hear me beg to be his again, no love even, just property. Beg for the gag, the collar, the pain, the burns and broken. The plead for the hood so I don't see him and he can't see me. To even be taken, this life from the kids in exchange for death or use. Anything but this horrible hell I suffer every single day.  But what is it a sadist wants? REAL PAIN. What is more painful that making a slave a single mother? Anything more soul destroying to hear her beg to choose you over them, to see you've won. They don't want her, they want you. To hand her the loaded gun and laugh that she won't pull the trigger because she won't leave the kids with that final thought.  My mom destroyed my childhood, but in disliking herself - my mom ruined my life too, by taking hers.  I can't  

In just one word to describe what it feels like to love someone who will never love you back- Hollow. Other words come to mind. Empty. Void. Blank. Pointless. Hollow. Because that’s exactly what it is. It’s like eating junk food when you’re not even hungry or hungover because you are sure, so sure that it will satiate you. That it will make you happy. That it will give you some sort of sense of satisfaction and contentment. But that feeling never comes and you’re left just sitting in front of what is essentially, a waste, with nothing to show for it but a mess you’ve done to yourself. Junk food isn't good for you. In moderation it won't harm you but every day it will take it's toll on your health. Loving someone who doesn't love you is exactly like consuming junk food daily. It leaves you feeling so full you're empty.  It’s an uphill battle where there’s nothing waiting for you at the top. A triathlon with no one waiting for you at the finish line. It’s fighting every single day with bloody knuckles and an even more battered heart hoping that someone will be there to make everything worth it, everything okay. Then you realize that you’re standing on your own with absolutely nothing to show for yourself or all your struggles. Then you're responsible for picking up those pieces of your own emotions solo. But they're broken pieces that never will be the same or fit together "just right" any longer.  Metaphors aside, there’s not really anything good or at the very least, fulfilling, that comes from falling in love with someone who you know deep down will never truly love you back. It’s purposeless. It’s empty. It leaves you completely hollow. Loving someone, really truly loving someone, who cannot and will not love you back isn’t something that will make you stronger. It can teach you a lot of things, but make you stronger? Not really. No matter which way you paint it, whatever beautiful embellishment you try to put onto your own cliché unrequited love, of rose coloured glasses.  Because the number one thing you learn when you love someone who doesn’t love you back? It’s that sometimes, love really isn’t enough. Loving someone, and continuing to love someone who will not love you back isn’t brave. And it isn’t strong. While there is something to be said for having a big heart and having the capacity to give pieces of yourself to people who don’t, and don’t deserve to, appreciate you, holding onto them when they aren’t holding back isn’t brave or strong or good. It’s self-destructive. Because deep down, truthfully, that’s what loving someone who you know will never love you back really is. It’s dousing your core in gasoline, handing them the match to see what they’ll do, and setting everything on fire yourself when you realize that they’re indifferent about what does or does not happen. And the longer it takes you to realize that that’s the case, that you’re responsible for your own entire wreckage, your destruction, the longer it will take you to scoop up your own ashes and rebuild yourself when you finally come to your senses. Hollow. That’s what trying to fill yourself with someone who doesn’t truly love you is. It’s empty. It’s unfulfilling. It’s hollow. It will do nothing but frustrate you, fail you, and leave you standing there with nothing but the remnants of a you, you don’t even recognize in your own hands. Because that’s the cost of loving someone who does not, and will not love you back. You. You won’t lose this person who you’ve idealized, who you’ve loved unrequitedly. You won’t miss out on “what could’ve been” and you won’t fail to jump onto a train that was maybe heading your way. You won't be sad that the ship you were about to board has already sailed. You won’t find yourself gring at the fingertips of anyone else, because the only person you will have failed to truly hold onto is YOU.  You. So what does it honestly mean to love someone who doesn’t love you back? It means losing you, losing yourself. It means letting go of things that may be actually tangible, and favouring something you will never actually hold close. It means putting a fantasy in front of your own reality, fragments in front of your own holistic life. Loving someone who will not love you back is quite simply, a waste of your precious, precious time. So what do you do? What do you do when you find yourself sitting there, attempting to justify and make sense of someone else’s ambivalence and your own inexplicable need to love them when they haven’t asked for it or earned it? You let go. You move on. No matter how hard it is, no matter the struggle. No matter how much you want to cling to them, and no matter how much you feel like you love them. You have to let them go. Because in letting them go, you know who you’ll get to hold onto instead? You. And that’s the only thing you’ll ever really need, anyway. Love yourself first.

Hello prospective submissive, I'm glad my post caught your eye, I've been looking for my pet slave for quite some time now, and I do hope you are going to be the one to fulfill both of our desires. But first, let me tell you a bit about what I'm truly looking for:I search for a submissive that, from the bottom of her heart, desires a relationship with her dom, her owner. This dynamic, and relationship, would be built upon a foundation of transparant communications, triplicate (physical, mental, and emotional) care, and proven mutual trust. Within this, I expect that my word and intentions are the law by which the submissive is beheld to, for her to surrender, both her control and her worries, completely to me, for I shall be the one to lead and to guide her. I do not mind to start off with long distance, but when the time comes, I would expect for her to be with me, and I have the means to ensure this happens, be it relocation assistance or otherwise.She should expect to have protocols be taught and enforced, be able to execute my instructions in a timely and satisfactory manner, assume basic household duties, engage in pet-play or pet-play adjacent activities, and eagerly look forward to affection in all its forms. Shared hobbies, especially nerdy ones, and deep conversations of whatever topics that graces the mind will be part and parcel for the healthy maintanence of the relationship.Do not mistake my kindness for a lack of structure or lack of the darker side of play, I am more than capable of providing affectionate cruelty with humiliating remarks, sadistic orders, and physical discipline. Ultimately, the shape of the dynamic-relationship will be influenced by the experiences we both share. If any of this resonated with you, and you are someone that places her owner first, I invite you to reach out. I want to learn more about you, and there is no substitute for communication.Do you think you would be the one to catch my eye? I look forward to finding out,Your future master

We all know how much of a PITA it is to update profiles...so here's a 2022 UPDATE Current age range I'm seeking is 36 y.o. to 44 y.o.  I get a lot of bizarre, whiny complaints about My education requirements. Three things: First, I don't give af about your opinion.  Second, it's been My experience that most men really struggle being in a relationsip with a woman who has significantly more education...something about those delicate egos.  Third, if you have a high enough IQ you'd already assume the first two and would send Me a brilliant intro making it irrelevant.  Facial hair is and always will be a hard limit, lol

Women, dogs, and toys.  Women deserve to be treated like dogs and toys. Ok hear me out on this one before you light your torches and get your pitchforks.    So, think about this: is your dog abused? Is the dog of any man you'd choose abused? No...? Ok what about his Xbox? PlayStation? Wii? Any abuse there? No? Ok next point (keep reading).   Does his dog have a comfortable life? Does he go out of his way to get decent food, toys, a comfortable place to sleep?    If his gaming system ever has issues, is he quick to tend to it? Always buying it accessories and new things to play on it?    And are his dog or gaming system expected to buy anything on their own, or does he provide it all for them?   Lastly, how much time does he give to both? How involved is he on a daily basis with them?    If more Doms viewed their slaves as beloved pets and toys instead of a kinky partner, we would have far fewer abused, neglected, and used subs. If Dom's treated them like his dog or Xbox, there would be so many more happy, satisfied, and secure subs.

The Weight of Three Minutes : End "Unzip my skirt," I ordered, my voice rougher now, the command firm. "Slowly." His hands emerged from behind his back with visible reluctance, as though the loss of that self-imposed restraint felt like a diminishment. He found the zipper at my hip with trembling fingers and drew it down with excruciating care, the teeth separating inch by inch, the fabric parting to reveal what I wore beneath, thigh-high stockings in sheer black, the lace tops pressing into my skin, and between them, nothing but my own arousal, glistening and undeniable. I let the skirt fall, stepping out of it with deliberate grace, and settled back against the chair with my legs parted just enough to display everything he was forbidden to touch. I watched his gaze track down my body, watched the moment he registered my wetness, the visible evidence of what his submission had done to me. "Look at what you can't have," I taunted, and heard the cruelty in my own voice, the deliberate sharpening of his hunger. "You over steeped my tea. You don't get to taste this." He made a sound: helpless, desperate, and I saw his hands clench at his sides, the struggle for control visible in every line of his body. His arousal was unmistakable now, straining against the constraint of his clothing, and I let my gaze linger there deliberately, acknowledging what I was denying him even as I refused to relieve it. I held his eyes for a long moment, letting him feel the weight of my decision, the absolute nature of my control. Then I reached forward and caught his hair in my hand, gripping tight enough to direct him, to control every movement. "You over steeped the tea," I repeated, my voice dropping to something almost gentle, almost tender in its cruelty. "So you're going to steep yourself in me." I pulled him forward without ceremony, pressing his face between my thighs with deliberate force. He made a sound of surprise, gratitude, desperate relief, and then I felt it, the hot wet pressure of his tongue finding me, eager and unskilled in his hunger, lapping at me with the desperate thoroughness of someone who knew this was his only permitted release. I held him there with my grip in his hair, setting the rhythm, controlling the pressure, using his mouth exactly as I needed. I gasped, my own arousal cresting faster than I had expected, sharpened by the power of holding him, directing him, denying him everything but this service. "Don't you dare stop too soon. I'll make you regret it." He redoubled his efforts, his tongue finding my clit with desperate precision, lapping and circling with the frantic energy of someone who knew his pleasure depended entirely on mine. I felt the heat building, the tight coil of release gathering at my core, and I rode his face harder, grinding against his mouth with abandon, using him exactly as I had promised. The orgasm hit me suddenly, violent and consuming, my body arching as I cried out, my grip in his hair tightening painfully. I held him there through it, not allowing him to retreat, forcing him to feel every pulse, every aftershock, to understand completely that he had served his purpose. My chest heaved, my breath coming in ragged gasps, and I let my head fall back against the chair, savoring the weight of satisfaction the ruined tea had failed to provide. I held him there a moment longer than necessary, feeling the wet heat of his face against my thigh, the subtle tremor in his shoulders as he waited for my permission to move. Then I released my grip on his hair, letting my hand fall to rest on the arm of the chair, and I looked down at him with the lazy satisfaction of someone who had taken exactly what she wanted. "Better," I murmured, the assessment carrying the weight of both praise and dismissal. "At least you can follow some instructions." He brings what I need without being asked, which is the only acceptable way to bring anything in this house. Cool water, a warm cloth, everything arranged with the quiet efficiency of a man who has understood that the aftermath of my pleasure is as sacred as the pleasure itself and deserves the same quality of attention. He assists me back into my clothing with careful hands, smoothing fabric, fastening what needs fastening, restoring the precise and elegant exterior that the world sees when it looks at me. When I am dressed he steps back and kneels without being told. "Devotional," I say, and hand him The Binder, observing him as he flips to the correct page. "Then lunch." He bows his head, and begins reciting from the large book. "She is the standard and the destination. What I give is never enough until she glows. I serve the aftermath as I serve the moment. I am most fully myself at the bottom of her world. This is my honor. This is my purpose. This is my place." He rises, bows one last time, moves to the kitchen, and begins preparing lunch as I stretch out in the sun on a love seat with my book in hand, feeling like a cat that caught the cream. (Finis/End)

COFFEE AND ME I awaken to your gentle licks upon my labia what a way to start your day!!!! You assist me with my toileting needs.......you dressed me and then you take me to the kitchen..... you bring me my cup of coffee and a slice of raisin toast..... you get in position on all fours so I can put my feet up while I browse the net and enjoy my coffee and toast. I  enjoy rubbing my feet on your naked body, my feet across your balls and your lil pussy cock. You are very easily stimulated with my every touch. I do enjoy arousing you💦💦💦💦💦! I rub my foot under your belly and to the Head of your cock you are dripping my pet👅 I command you to turn over on your back...... lying flat as I drip some  butter near your navel.....I rub it through your thin hairy patch with my toes and then down to your cock with a nice even spread You like that don't you my pet....... I think to myself will I allow you to cum today....... spreading the butter  of your dick and feeling  it throb and get harder with my every touch makes me very moist......... I outline your lips with my big toe and then tell you to lick it........ I lean over taking the spoon from my coffee and rub it on your balls and I notice your cock is so hard for me but I need you to relax so I give your balls a nice little slap with the spoon.......... you let out a moan. I run the spoon up your shaft to the head of your cock moving it slowly in a circular motion then back down the shaft to your balls with another 4 slaps I then lean back and relax and allow you to lick all the butter off my foot........ my nipples are very hard and I can't resist caressing them as you clean all the butter off my foot like a good pet......... your tongue sliding through each of my toes making my nipples hard..... I'm  rubbing them and and my pussy is so moist and throbbing........ I take my cup of coffee and drip a little bit of the warm tasty liquid on my nipples.......slowly I lick my hard nipples! Gently pinching and pulling them. I bring my nipple to my mouth and slowly  suck off the sticky sweet warm coffee........Oh yes my pussy is throbbing and I know I'm about to cum........you sucking my toes and rubbing my foot like a good little pet....... make me explode my pet...........WOW  

Be who you are—fully, unapologetically, without hesitation. Not the version shaped by expectation. Not the version softened to be accepted. But the one that exists underneath all of that—clear, aligned, and undeniable. Let what no longer fits you… fall away. All the expectations that were never yours.All the identities you outgrew.All the roles you kept playing out of habit, not truth. Release them. Allow everything that isn’t aligned with you to dissipate naturally—without force, without resistance. What’s meant for you doesn’t need to be held together artificially. Free yourself from what no longer exists. And then… build again. With intention. With clarity. With honesty about who you are and what you need. If matriarchy is your path—walk it with confidence.If servitude is your language—speak it without shame.If structure, devotion, power, or surrender call to you—answer fully. There is nothing wrong with becoming who you were meant to be. The only mistake is refusing to. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

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

In correspondence with a gent, I was inspired to write this.  I am posting it here because it will help you understand me. Q1 - Are you looking for a Unicorn?  Since it has only been a few months since my beloved hubby died, I am NOT seeking My Unicorn at this time.  Instead, I seek D/s friends and experiences so that I can enjoy My Dominance.   Q2 - What do you like to do or have done to you? I'm not going to list specific sexual activities here.  You can read my preferred activities in my profile.  I put much care into what I have selected there. I will, however, tell you about Me and My sexuality.  I enjoy connected conversation, a gents' scent as we hug and that tingle in My loins as he kisses My hand.  I enjoy the angst on his face when I direct him to lift My hair while I put on My jacket.  An then, I revel in the public intimacy as he reaches into the warmth at the nape of My neck and lifts My hair. I'm very oral and tactile.  I love kissing, massage and foot worship.  I love to be touched and tasted.  Yes, he shall tend Me.  But more, he shall adore Me.  I am possessive of My boys' genitals and ass.  CFNM seems a natural way of being and reinforcing status.  I am private.  My gent and I understand the quality of our time together.  But, it's nobody else's business. LadyD.

I am worth more than the sum of this profile.  I  love dogs, have a smart mouth and take delight in making someone I care for laugh. I am not perfect .I believe in being transparent.

Some of my messages are getting redundant - so I'll post answers to my commonly asked questions here - My bra size is 38G or 38DDDD - a 38G and 38DDDD are the same size - depends on manufacturer which way they choose to list it.  Yes. I like pain. It's one of the many aspects of BDSM that I enjoy. Despite the photos, and despite the fact that I have had a fair amount of experience with impact play and corporal punishment, I do not have a lot of experience with extreme pain.   I'm located in metro-Atlanta, specifically Marietta. No - I am not willing or able to relocate. No I am not interested in long-distance / virtual to start with Dom re-locating if we are good match. I am not equipped for virtual submission. I don't have any children and do not want to have any children at this stage of my life.  I am willing to be friends with couples but I do not want to serve a couple or become a subsister to your wife or existing submissive or slave.  Hope this helps. 

Created using the words from a conversation between Myself and a female Dom about who was a better dominant  . .   My books are the marks on your skin as I play   My dvds are your muscle twitches that dance   My music your sighs, and cries, as I touch with kisses of fire   That touch makes you lose your mind     My taunts change the weak girl into a strong sub   The glint in my eye fills you with an eagerness to please   For I am as constant, pure, cold and loving as a God.   I AM DOM   I am merciful, I give pain     These are the elements that inflame undreamt of submission   My domination transforms pain into devotion, into worship   The knowledge that you are owned burns to the core   I own, manipulate, crush and build.   I enrapture     I pry open your hidden self and give peace   I show the path and watch as you struggle to take it   I shall alight my lips on your skin and you will be reborn   I give you life afresh     Your history, your future, your now, all reside in ME   I give you freedom. You obey to belong  

i am a submissive man... i have had submissive tendancies for as long as i can remember... it all started with a dream... Around the end of Oct '22 i met a kitten... how we initially met isn't that important. But the chemistry was obvious, to me at least. We arranged to meet at the coast where we both live.. as it turned out the kitten lives about a 10 minutes drive from where I live. While we were walking the boarwalk, we stopped into a bar.. neither of us drank alcohol, but the conversation was interesting, as the kitten pointed out women she thought attractive.. which led to her confession that she was bi. As we left the bar.. we stopped at a tattooo shop, inquired about nipple piercings (for me, as i always wanted one pierced).. turns out both of hers are pierced, as i discovered while there. We walked back to our cars.. stopping for some frozen yougurt concoction, it wasn't very tastful as I recall.. while having the snack at a table by the sand... kitten admitted that she "was into pain if properly administered". I was a bit taken aback, but as i am core sub, i understood completely what she was saying. Understanding, that, for me, infliction of pain in various manners produced chemicals and allowed me to forget the grinds of life for a moment or two.  We enjoyed each others company. Upon departing, as I walked her to the car, I stole a hug and a kiss, that we both seemed to enjoy, and i recieved a positive vibe as we said our good bye's. We texted each other later the following week, "I hope to see your place sometime soon" she texted.. I decided to invite her to the beach again the the following Sunday morning, but schedules wouldn't allow... we did decide on late brunch, we would meet at my place. (the story goes... she was clamped on the couch.. i pulled her nipple clamp chain while i banged her with ma fingers, she came multiple times) CMNF for he most part during tis session.   Decided she was a slave and not a kitten or a submissive..  Reminder notes to write about...  The next Sunday we had brunch... I finger banged her on the couch and told her I wasn't going to fuck her yet... i was going to make her wait.. she wanted to get slapped in the face.. I had serious Dom drop after this as it went against my grain to soo much as lay a finger on a woman.. called her the next day to check on her mental state, cause mine wasn't great.. she was in a very good mood and happy.. the slapping got easier to deal with as we progressed in our process and play. Two Sundays later we had cropping session.. and caned her.. with her new cane.  She got covid... two or three weeks later.. she came over for an hour or two before going on break with family.. in front of the fire.. she dry humped me until orgasm.. she came when i pulled her hair while she was doing this... like instantly as I tugged on her main. She went on xmas break When she got home Jan 12th, that Sunday started with otk after she came out of bathroom in nothing but xmas gift panties... told her to pick a tool from the closet, she chose crop, dragged her into the doghouse by her hair.. we had a cropping session, left marks, she rode a dildo stuck to a saucer plate (while throating me) had a very intense convulsive orgasm while doing this... dildo was expensive and nice one, after cropping and then gave me the blow job of my life... sucked on my balls while stroking my cock, almost made me nut but i stopped her.. was going to fuck her later.. after she worshipped my feet, failed doggy, as I lost my erection in hassle for condom, or she would have gotten fucked.. i was hard all night before that, but she was kind and understanding about it.. I just felt like my cock had been hard for so long all night it was just done lol.. after cropping.. she came again before she left on the couch, during her aftercare session i rubbed her button until she came... after she had put all her clothes back on... they all came off again.. she dressed and left.   We met briefly.. at a bar.. i don't drink but she had two glasses of wine.. we flirted with each other and she said she was going to fuck me.. we went our seperate ways.. we will go to a club to see bulesque next Thursday, but she will come of to get used monday prior.. to be continued.  We met again when she came over.. i wonder if she stricly comes over to be used.. i was giving her aftercare and massaging her red welted ass... i noticed her butthole was so pink.. and pretty.. my mouth found its way there somewhat naturally.. it was a first for both of us.. she loved it and so did i. She certainly earned it.  Haven't seen the kitten going on three weeks... between her studying and spring breaking... I was taken aback when she texted me saying she wanted to come over next weekend.. i think the stress of school and all the studying has gotten to her.. she misses the distraction of the crop.. and needs some masochistic distraction. More to come..         

A Soldier Transformed: In the shadowed depths, a fear resides, Of losing control to the darkness inside. Memories of battles, cold and stark, Of a soldier's heart, hardened and dark.   The echoes of war, they still remain, Haunting thoughts that cause you pain. Afraid to slip back into that abyss, To lose your grip, to once again dismiss.   But remember, dear soul, you've come so far, You've journeyed through the wounds and scars. Strength now lies in the light you hold, A beacon of hope, a story untold.   Embrace the fears, let them fade away, For in the present, a new path may sway. Your heart can thaw, your spirit mend, No longer a soldier, but a soul to tend.   So fear not the darkness, embrace the light, For within you burns a flame so bright. You're not just a soldier, you're a man reborn, With a heart that beats, not hardened or worn.

This bears reposting just about everywhere. I don't know why I bother though; guys will agree with their mouths but so many don't agree with their hearts: What do you mean when you offer to serve? What do you mean when you offer to BE of service? What do mean when you offer yourself in servitude? Do the answers to these questions bring up visions of you being bound helplessly while being exquisitely tortured, teased to the verge of orgasm? Do you envision some Amazon Goddess sporting a huge strap-on taking you anally? Do you envision yourself prancing around in some French Maid Costume and being asked to provide oral service to a Mistress? Do you envision some woman sqatting over your helplessly bound body "forcing" you to serve her orally? Or do you envision being put over her knee and spanked like a naughty little boy? Yes, nice visions aren't they? However, not one of those visions is the definition of "serve", "service" or "servitude". Oh, I'm sure many subs consider them to be just that, but if you check your dictionaries you won't find any mention of French Maid Costumes, bondage, strap-ons, oral sex, or any other fetish you may enjoy. In fact you won't find any mention of fetishes at all in the definitions Serve is defined as: 1. to work for, be a servant; 2. to act in a specific capacity; 3. to place food before, wait on; 4. to be of assistance to. Service is defined as: 1. the occupation or duties of a servant; 2. the act or means of serving; 3. duties performed as an occupation. Servitude is defined as: Submission to a master; slavery. When you offer to serve a FemDom, what you are offering (or should be offering) is the surrender of your control. You should know her well enough to trust her with your life. When you offer your servitude to her, you are telling her that you trust her judgment, you trust her to keep you safe from harm, you trust her to know what is best for both of you, you trust her decisions and desire to follow her orders and obey her in all things. Your offer of service is your ability to let go of your ego and your free will (control) and allow her to control you. Serving is, first and foremost, the act of making her life easier. It is compliance with all her desires, wishes, orders. Yes, BD/SM and fetish play, more than likely, will be included as part of the relationship. But overall, the D/s ect of the relationship will be where you have turned your control over to her and you do as she says. It is about pampering her and catering to her. Everyday life will be a part of this, for most people do have to work, bills do have to be paid, people need to see doctors occasionally, and dentists. Then there are family get togethers, family emergencies, social gatherings with vanilla friends and also with D/s friends. For the most part, life will seem pretty vanilla, but there will be one difference. IF you have truly submitted, then your actions will be measured by how your Mistress would feel about it. Your decisions will be based upon what you are allowed, or not allowed to decide without her permission. You will treat others with respect, but especially other women. You will consider that your actions would reflect back upon your Mistress, and therefore act in a manner that would make her proud of you. There may be other constant reminders, she may insist you wear panties under your clothes at work. But you will always remember that you have submitted to her and will honor that commitment. How can you serve your Mistress - what are the ways? Here are some suggestions: -Make sure her home is clean and neat. -Make sure her clothes are clean and neat. -Prepare her favorite foods for her. -Prepare her bath. -Rub her feet after she comes in from working all day. -Offer her a massage if her day was very stressful. -Offer to do her manicure and pedicure. -Have her favorite music playing or find her favorite show or movie on TV. -Surprise her with flowers. -Serve her coffee as soon as she gets up in the morning. -Ask what clothing she wants laid out for her. These are just a few of the ways you can serve her once you have been trained in what she wants and likes. Don't be afraid to use your imagination to surprise her (provided of course that she has no problem with you doing this occasionally). A happy, contented, pleased, relaxed woman is a woman who will then have no problem torturing you, using you, or even indulging you with a fetish or two that are your favorites…………just to show you how much she really appreciates your service and submission to her. So, what are you offering?

The mystery of living a life of divine love with harmonious relationships, getting total support and joy within a loving family is surrender. Jesus Christ has said to keep the peace so much as it depends on you. There are many who look for social approval and it takes their focus away from having harmonious relationships. They instead care too much about the opinions of others or what others have said regarding a person and not getting to know them on their own, personally. Having bonds within communities is a good thing as we are all truly brothers and sisters of one another. Look out for the interests of others and not to your own only. Look at your brothers and sisters wherever in the world they may be. Are they in need of anything? If you are abundant and possess something they need that you can spare then don't hold back, give. Not everything is about money either. Lend an ear, lend a shoulder to cry upon, write those letters, offer a hug, cook a meal for someone. When you give you receive. It is written. Only please do not sound a trumpet before you for the deeds you are doing for a brother or sister. No one needs to know, just you, God, and your brother or sister that you helped. And if you cannot give, I say to you pray. The prayers prayed in faith will heal a person even a nation. Will you be caught standing strong in love for God and others? Jesus Christ's homecoming is closer than we may think. Will you be ready?

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

I was a member of CollarMe, then joined CollarSpace.  This is my third account here and will be my last.  If I don't find a sincere true slave for my search then I will move on to a different website.I am 100 percent real and sincere. I want a slave who is also real and sincere. I will answer questions as openly and honestly as I possibly can.  I have set up filters on messages.  Sorry, not sorry.  The last account had way too many messages that were from fakes and wannabes.  I appreciate those who are new to the lifestyle but I am someone who lives the lifestyle as much as possible.   I am also in the process of moving and so there will be periods of time where I might be slow to respond.  If you can't be patient then that is your issue and not mine.   Sorry to sound like a hateful *itch but it is what it is.  I am here for my own search and I also do not dance or jump through hoops for anyone.

As far back as I can remember, I've had a compulsion to be with alpha males. Even as young as 6 or 7, I remember fantasizing what it would be like to be kidnapped by men, tied up and taken away. I suppose that says something about my early childhood, but what difference does that make now. And it wasn't that I hated my family. I just wanted to be the property of a strong older man.    Somewhere around that time I began trying self bondage. I would take my mother's supply of ace bandages, go up into the hot, humid attic and tie myself as best I could and fantasize about being some man's captive. Occasionally I would hear “what are you doing up there” and I'd have to spit the sock out of my mouth and come up with some passable answer. I don't remember ever getting caught but there were many near-misses.   We lived directly across from a factory where my father worked and from my bedroom I could watch all these macho blue collar workers file in clean and then file out sweaty and dirty. I was always mesmerized, especially when they were sweaty and dirty.    I'm rusty these days and not as agile as I used to be, but serious bondage was always one of my favorite fetishes. People would ask why and I would always say “there's freedom in bondage.” Freedom to go within and see what you can take and how much deeper you can go in your submission. And then there's the freedom of letting someone I trust take control of me and make my decisions for me.   I've always been hard-wired to be submissive to superior men. It's my nature. To be in the service of men is still the driving force in my life.   If you're reading this far and find yourself interested, I appreciate that deeply but I'm not available at the moment. I'm caring for an 80+ year-old Dom that I've known forever. I'm not even in the US. I park myself in Nevada on this site because there are very few people who understand my needs where I am.   I've been on this site for almost 10 years. First journal entry because I'm bored and a bit lonesome at times. I still feel the need to be owned and probably always will. I'll just have to be patient like a good sub.

The Reward i am kneeling before Goddess's throne, with my back straight, my shoulders back, and my head bowed, as posture protocol requires. Leather cuffs on my ankles and my thighs are connected by a short length of chain, such that i cannot lift myself up at all. A plug is in my ass, but it is not a large one. It stretches me only gently. My cock and balls are tightly bound with a long shoestring, which wraps around them in many devious ways. It bites deeply into the most sensitive parts of my body, which throb with arousal and distress. i am engorged but cannot sustain a full erection, and the parts of me which throb are a deep purple, or at least, they feel that way. She was quite flirtatious as She bound me so. She caressed me in all manners of ways. She bit and pinched me tenderly, playfully. She pressed the most tantalizing parts of Her beautiful body against mine. She calls me a good boy, and a sweet boy, and a lovely little slut. She says i've been a wonderful little plaything recently, and thinks it might be time for me to get a very special reward. She asks me if i think i deserve a reward. i reply that i hope so. How sweet, She says, and kisses me on the forehead. Next i feel a clamp attached to one of my balls, and then one just below the head of my cock. The clinking i hear makes clear that they are connected by a chain. Then the other side of my manhood is similarly adorned. I feel a different type of clamp attached to each my balls below the first pair. Then She is putting clothespins in every place on my cock and balls where there is a welcoming patch of skin. They bite deeply into my already anguished skin. i moan gently when the first clothespin is attached, and a bit more urgently as the numbers grow. i attempted to count them, but my concentration falters at 20. i feel tugging on the clamps, and hear more clinking of the chains. She orders me to arch my back and slump my shoulders down and forward. i feel a sharp upward tug on the clamps already on me, and then the sting of clamps on my nipples. She has looped the chains connecting the clamps on my nipples beneath the other chains, such that all the clamps are being tugged by the others, but the tension is not great. i am in significant pain, but i have withstood much worse. i long to do so now. i will adore Her for it. She kisses me on the forehead and sits on Her throne, and then Her stockinged feet are caressing my thighs. She pets my head as She again calls me a swe

We've gotten a few questions, people asking for more info about me dating the Trump supporter. We're still dating! When Kamala entered the race, I teased him a few times about losing to a woman and he'd always make it a point to tell me later (when I was tied up or bent over or otherwise had him inside me) that November wasn't going to change anything for me, that I'd still be fucking him on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, basically anytime he wanted. We don't get too into the details - he's not super politically engaged and it's actually kind of upsetting to think about the state of the country, and how rights are being taken away all the time, when I'm in a relatively privileged position and choosing to indulge in this kind of play. A few people asked how we met. We're in the same grad school program and he's always starting arguments about politics and "how come people don't just get a driver's license if they want to vote so bad", that kind of thing. I'd always jump in and push back, and he told me later that he liked getting me riled up. He said he liked seeing me flush and get upset and try to convince him of things when he didn't really care. We chatted a few times before classes and he'd be incredibly forward so he knew I was married, knew I wanted kids, made a few comments if I wore a choker or a fashion collar. After class one night, my car battery was dead so he came over and gave me a jump. We were the only ones left in the lot so while we were standing outside in the dark, he slid his hands in the back pockets of my jeans and pulled me against him. I instinctively reached back and he trapped my hands and held them behind my back while kissing me, jamming his tongue in my mouth. I blew him in his car and we made plans to go out that weekend. He's pretty rough and he loves being in charge. My husband will buy all sorts of bondage toys and I'll take them to the cop's apartment and that's where they stay. He keeps bondage straps on his mattress, has a spreader bar that he straps my hands and ankles to, has all of my favorite ball gags and blindfolds and plugs. He's also incredibly respectful, in his own way. He doesn't push limits we've discussed and I've gotten him to say things like "do you want me inside you?" which is as close to consent as he's interested in, but is still a huge deal. I let him take pictures of me tied up and naked as long as he obscures my face. I know men always show their friends and there's always the chance he revenge porns me if we break up, and he totally understood without arguing. He said he hears about that at work from teens and he knows it's a huge problem. Last story - he had me tied up recently, wrists and ankles on the spreader bar, gagged, a black hood over my entire head. Then his doorbell rang and he let in one of his buddies. We had discussed before that I was open to other men but I wasn't going to let them fuck me without protection. And here I was, ass up in the air, a stranger carassing me, unbuckling his belt. I started whimpering and wiggling my fingers. I was starting to make our safety signal when I heard him say "dude, condom, come on." I'm not going to say chivalry isn't dead but it made me feel good that he wasn't like "huh huh huh just fuck her in the ass huh huh huh." I gave them both a hell of a ride in gratitude. And to answer the most common question, no I'm not pregnant yet!

Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is.   Every man needs a good woman in his life. Even if she is just his friend. A good woman adds value to a mans life, no matter what capacity she serves.   

I lost someone this week.  No we weren't close lately.  We used to be.  Our relationship was never defined, it was loosely maintained, but we popped in and out of each other's lives over the period of several years.  He was my first introduction to bdsm and the only D type that I could truly call a close friend at any point.   He is the only one who ever took me to that amazing place that every sub reaches for, and when I used to write, I wrote about our times together.  Those are still some of my favorites to look back on.  He was also there to cradle me in his arms and comfort me when a scene with someone else went really bad.  He was there to help me figure out what I was and wanted without pressing himself on me, so that I would be safe in the future and make better choices about who I interacted with.  He served as my protector for a while, when I was feeling vulnerable but didn't know if I wanted to step back from the scene at that point.  He never made me feel like a burden.  He helped me in my kink life and he helped me equally in my vanilla life.  I knew he was sick but he didn't let on how bad it was. I found out on the book of faces.  He is gone now, and I wish I could have been there for him, but he didn't want anyone to know the extent of his illness.  That was his way. Goodbye SkyMaster.  You will always be loved, you will always be appreciated.  I have nothing but warmth in my heart and in my soul for you.  I can say that about VERY FEW people in my life.  You will always be missed.    

(There is apparently a way to actually change the entire background color of a post: I have seen other users do it. All I can figure out to do is to use a different color "highlighter" to contrast against the font color. I guess it is essentally the same thing, but dang.) I got contacted by a man on FetLife who fits so many of my criteria that I'm actually tempted: lives one city over within 7 years of my age in an open relationship (he's separated ad casually dating) has a car He already has some chastity devices, and we have overlapping interests. We're sizing each other up, but he sounds eager to meet. eeeee!My only concern is his interest in "intox play," which Urban Dictionary defines as: short for intoxication play, It is a type of BDSM scene where one or both partners get intoxicated and have consensual sex. I put that one down as a hard limit: it's too easy to forget important things like negotiating safe-signals before someone is tied up and gagged. Not *cough* that I'd have any direct experience with that. *ahem* However, we have plans for a coffee date this week, so here's hoping. However, since the pandemic it's not like I've been a social butterfly, so if nothing else I'll get points for making the effort.  

100% Master 100% Sadist  100% Daddy 100% Degrader  94% Rigger  93% Dominant  92% Experimentalist  84% Primal (Hunter)  79% Brat tamer  71% Owner  56% Switch  38% Non-monogamist  36% Voyeur  33% Submissive  5% Exhibitionist  0% Ageplayer  0% Brat  0% Degradee  0% Boy/Girl  0% Masochist  0% Pet  0% Primal (Prey)  0% Rope bunny  0% Slave  0% Vanilla   

Someone actually quite a challenge to WOW them about consent (not on cs).... I decided to write most of my response here, even though done of it is mentioned in my profile.   Wow you with consent... I love that challenge. So first things first, you can't have fun when anxiety and fear are the prevailing emotions.  Does that mean a person can't struggle against bonds or their patterned who is ignore than please of 'no' or begging for mercy and still find pleasure?  Sure they can, in the form of a safe word.  They can be simple as red, yellow, and green light... Red light being stop, yellow light, don't get any more intense... Or if the room is wiring about the intensity, can ask, sand if she say green light, she's good, keep going.   A bdsm relationship, whether it is in bed only, or 24/7 is still a 50-50 relationship.  Just because the sun lens the doom some of her fifty, doesn't mean she can't take some of all of it back at any time.  He wants to try anal, she doesn't, "I'm the Dom, so I can" is an EPIC of FAILURE of understanding basic [healthy] bdsm... Also might violate a law or two whether or not either of them know it.     Communication is also key.  Set aside time (such as a dinner) to discuss what they like it don't like.  Sometimes telling a person about what they didn't like right after or right before can kill the mood or self confidence... However during Sunday night dinner, a planned conversation, "her that thing when you turned me sides ways, don't do that for more than a minute at a time, but that thing you did when you held my head on the pillow... Don't ever not do that again..."   He laughs, "sure, when your are going down... Teeth are not sexy."     Moving on..   I actually love protocol training early in a relationship.  It's almost an if-then style relationship while learning each other's kinks: If you do this, I do that... Or if I do this, you do that.  For example, if she puts a collar on, he is not allowed to use her real name, just one of the pet names that agreed upon earlier, it could be cute like 'penny' because of the penguin on the T-shirt she wore the first time they met, or it could be something more aggressive such as 'slut,' if she agreed on that at first.  A system of controls to keep them both satisfied.          

had forgotten i can leave 'journal entries'.   i've been unowned for almost nine years... or so?  i've kinda lost track. That's a long time to be wild. To be a stray. i've kinda settled into being alone.  i'm in no hurry to fall into someones lap again.  i read a lot of profiles here, see a lot of pictures, get a decent amount of messages from people who clearly haven't taken the time to learn about me.  Still makes me shake my head. i wonder sometimes if i belong here... The bulk of Doms here seem to want only a slave... they want to bruise and abuse, and hey, that's fine... for them, and for the people who seek that kind of... treatment. It's NOT for me though.  i don't exist to be treated like that.  i won't, be treated like that. i'm on vanilla dating sites too.  Coz, why not. Tossin that line into multiple ponds in hopes of finding -Him-.  While a lot of my views are vanilla, a lot aren't.  i feel like i don't really belong anywhere... i hope... one day, i will find someone as rare and unique as i am. Who wants to own me, train me, take care of me... bring out the utter best of me so that i can return it all back to Him. May those reading on this Halloween, find lots of treats, and enough tricks to make it interesting.

Master's WritingsDo We Force or Do We Cultivate Submission?As Dominants, do we take or do we nurture? Do we force or do we cultivate? Do we allow for discovery and awareness or do we force a submissive to become the vision of submission we held in our minds before even meeting them?Nearly every Dominant I have ever talked to has a fantasy or a story about "taking" a submissive. We hold an ideal in our mind of what a submissive should be like, act like and perhaps even sound like. But do we truly, as Dominants, cultivate a submissive to find their own unique, natural path to their truest self?I believe in guiding a submissive, there is an easy road and a hard road. And like all things the harder road will always produce the richest results. The easy way is to take, force, and command them to fit into a predefined mold. For a skilled Dominant, grooming a submissive this way may be swift, but shallow, suitable for play, but not for a lasting dynamic.The only submission I find worthy of my time and energies, is one that is freely given, honest and genuine, where the submissive understands why they have chosen to submit. I find there are several critical aspaspects that are always part of this "harder" and, what I believe to be, a more fulfilling road. Though it might sound manipulative, it is not when done openly and honestly with the purest of intentions toward your submissive.Understanding: One cannot dominate another without knowing the person. One must understand the individual, both the vanilla and the kink. You should spend time to get to know how they think, what they believe, and the motivations behind them all. Share freely of yourself as well to create mutual understanding and build trust. Seek to discover the things that have shaped their life, brought them to the lifestyle - fears, joys, struggles, and fantasies. Each truth either of you share, unlocks a clue about how best to bring them out of their shell and open them up.Engage the mind before the body: The lifestyle and all its kink, when done right, will always be vastly more mental than physical. So many of the things we do here require deep trust, openness, and communication. I know you have heard this all before, but have you thought about what cultivates such trust? It is the mental closeness that comes from sharing, talking, connecting, explaining, and engaging in ways that are respectful of the thinking being standing in front of you, and generous in the giving of yourself. It is the understanding of how a mind works that reveals their blocks, their turn-ons, their fears, and the past damage that continue to color their present self, for good and for bad. As Dominant, be inquisitive of what takes place between their ears, not just between their legs and always engage the mind before you touch the body.Cultivate their awareness of self: In order for any of us to participate fully in the lifestyle, one must have an awareness of who we are, what we want, and why we want it. Few have taken the time to fully explore this in a meaningful way. If you have not, I encourage you to do this for yourself. Ask at least 3 why's after ever truth you think you have uncovered. Dig, explore and be curious. Don't be satisfied with superficial awareness but strive for the hidden understanding behind each “why”. Then when you have a better understanding of yourself, help your submissive explore in this same way. No judgment, no shame, no allowance for them to become self conscious or hide from a hard truth (of course in a supportive and respectful way that allows us all to share in our own time - some truths are really hard to share). Remain open, honest and welcoming. Create a safe place for them to share all with you. Don't lead or channel them to a specific place but allow the discovery to be organic. There is beauty in watching a flower unfold on its own. Question, reflect, explore and require total honesty as you go deeper. Only in this way can you guide them to an awareness of their most authentic self.Build confidence: Few dominants speak of the power of a submissive. I find that there is enormous power in the confidence and submission of an submissive. To know your most authentic and natural self is one of the highest forms of enlightenment I can think of. As a Dominant, I see it as our job to build that confidence, not break them down.It has been my experience that as you begin working on this fourth aspect, all of the work you have done comes together to provide you a depth of overall understanding of your submissive and quite frankly, they will, and should, understand you as well. I have always seen the yin and yang of D/s and M/s relationships being a growing together rather than a forcing to comply or taking of a submissive. There is no sweeter fruit than the fruit that is given freely and for an s to give themself freely, without reservation to a Dominant who truly "knows them" is priceless beyond compare. Once you have tasted such fruit, I doubt you will ever settle for less.A word of caution: This is powerful guidance, and not to be engaged in lightly. We do not use this for manipulation or deceit. We engage openly and honestly in order to seek the same in our partners. If you, yourself, are not yet ready to be fully open with your partner, please do not attempt this, you will only cause pain and emotional harm when you cannot reciprocate the openness that you have worked to create.For those on both sides of the slash, I wish you understanding and beauty and hope this helps in some small way in your life.

If you've been a longtime follower or avid reader of my journal, you may remember a particular set of rocks on my drive to work that form a heart at a precise moment. That little section of land would sometimes flood when it rained and some portion of the lower part of the heart would be covered. Being the rarely logical and often magical person that I am, I attached direct meaning to my own heart. If the rock heart was partially underwater, maybe my heart was also having a hard time. Sometimes it worked out to be true. Sometimes I thought maybe it was predicting things to come. Likewise, beautiful days and whole hearts meant it would all be okay.  Over the years that little section of land has permanently flooded. It really bothered me at first, having my heart underwater all the time. I've had emotional ups and downs and sometimes it feels like I'll never resurface. Driving by every day, with visual confirmation that my heart is perpetually sinking, well, it doesn't make for a bright start to the morning.  And then there were motherfucking ducks.  I honestly was pissed off, how dare they benefit from my heartache? Swimming around, creating ripples, it just didn't seem right. The other day I realized I have started looking for the ducks. I've noticed how the, I'm just going to call it the heart lake, has taken on more ground. It looks as if it's always been there. Maybe it's not so bad. Maybe I can give my heart lake back to nature because I'm certainly not going to drown. I look for hearts elsewhere sometimes. In leaves, in puddles, somewhere nature might offer me a trade. When I see them I smile. 

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 Whip The single tail was never my impact play item of choice.  In fact, I was afraid of it.  In Texas there are a lot of whip enthusiasts.  There are vanilla groups in Texas for people who are interested in using one.  For bdsm practitioners the use of a whip for scene play is rarely used.  That doesn't stop people from cracking a whip in the dungeon.  Eventually I learned to love being whipped but it wasn't easy.    Some dungeons prohibit single tails.  They're loud and intimidating. Just hearing that familiar sound (my lame attempt at describing the sound) wu-tish!! was enough to turn heads. Some didn't like the distraction of it during play at the dungeon so in some cases it wasn't allowed.    In the beginning, most of my impact play involved floggers, canes, crops and other similar things. My Domme however was very interested in using a whip and connected with other dominants who had experience with single tails. After we scenes She would seek out someone with a whip and practiced with it.    As her sub, it was fascinating to watch her try to crack the whip. I wanted to please her so I agreed to stand by with my hands over my face as the whip would lightly wrap around me over and over.    I want to whip you while you're suspended she said.    Okay but I'm very afraid I replied.  I'll try it as long as I wear a mask and leather thong.    A friend of mine sold me a mask. It was made of stiff thick leather.  It didn't cover my head but it covered my face and ears. It was so cool looking!  The thong was easier to get. I found a side tie one at a leather shop in town. I also wore a leather collar to protect my neck.  I was ready.  Bring it on I thought to myself.    In the beginning I would be cuffed to a spreader bar with my arms overhead.  My Domme bought a 4ft whip which we used for practice. After a few sessions we didn't like the damage it caused. It was very painful. I hated it.  We later learned that shorter whips cause the most pain.    We bought a 6 foot whip and practiced with that for awhile.  Finally we bought an 8 foot whip.  My Domme could now stand far away and whip me like a pro. Both of us were amazed at the performance of a long whip. She learned to throw it around me and got that Wu-tish!! sound Everytime.    We went to our favorite dungeon and did a scene with the whip.  This time I was suspended and wearing all of the protective gear I bought. I was hoisted up and whipped.  She took long pauses between lashes.  Every lash has purpose. She wanted evenly spaced marks.  I wore those marks proudly and the scene caused quite a stir.   Dominants like to push limits and subs often don't think they can say no. In my case, I agreed to be whipped while suspended because I was now confident if her ability and I felt safe.  We were refining our scene. Little did we know but we were about to make a huge impression on the Texas scene.   Next up: The Gift. 

 AcadaMay She's Royal CFNM Ladies Tea Party - Saturday 5th July   You may contact me here to reserve your place.  Most alternative events objectify women, but there is one particular event that reverses the rôles. This is the Clothed Female, Naked Male party. CFNM by definition gives the power back!  Ladies of elegance and sophistication are cordially invited to take the opportunity to mingle with their peers whilst sipping their wine and enjoying the entertainment.  Come & join the the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Tea Party every month for an afternoon of tea & wine with lashings of decadence. All whilst being served by underlings who will be there solely to serve and cater to our every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla tea party again!  Ladies, this is your chance to be served by men and objectify them. CFNM includes activities that are not particularly oriented towards female dominance and superiority, but a modicum of humiliation and punishment to the nude men not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged!  Gentlemen, this is your chance to parade yourself in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM.

i am at a start of a new trail, where will it lead? i do not know, but i do know that i walk a small step behind You. Looking towards You to guide me, that You will pull me into You with a simple look, a word, or a command. The journey from the self-indulgent creature i am to the slave beauty You desire.  A journey that will be fierce and difficult at times, one that will push me to the limit and past it, one that will find You throwing me off a cliff over and over again, to be waiting for me at the bottom, to catch me and say those two small words that make me want to please You more….”good slave”.  It’s amazing how two small words can cause my spirit to burst forth, two small words that make me want and need to fall on my knees in front of You, back straight, head held high, eyes cast downward,  legs spread apart and palms on thighs.You reinforce me to just how quickly i need this. How long it has been since i was truly in this mindset and just how wanton and needy i am.  A connection of energy, of trust and of honesty. It is framed by the mutual respect, adoration, and admiration felt by both and a great deep fulfilling love can be found in and through it. And in my life, i strive for that deepness, it beckons me, calls to me.

As the profile edit didn't pass inspection, here it is     This is not the profile of SensualOrgasmDom69. Please look elsewhere for that kind of thing       Fuck, I hate that this thing needs me to update my age       Lets get straight to the point. (and I added stuff!) (twice now) (scratch that, 3rd edit)        I am not a nice person. I am not here to find the love of my life.Least I don't think so, never say never.        I am not a ropes and floggers, leather and latex kind of person. This is not some bit of bedroom fun, but just who I am. Controlling, demanding, sadistic and generally uncaring when it suits me. I like to explore where others dare not, both with the body and mind.        What I am here to find is whatever takes my fancy. It could be easier to say what will not take my fancy. Demanding, princess types are certainly out, as are those who require a massive romance aspect. Sure I can offer affection when it suits me, but overall its not something that should be expected in bulk. Just something I can understand can be required much as a car requires an oil change every now and then. Heck, sometimes even I need that kind of downtime.       I am the kind that gives kink a bad name. I would happily take on one with poor self-esteem, not to "fix" them, but as a way of controlling them. Someone who will lower themselves to the level I desire, someone who can live without rights. I find interest in things normally unacceptable. I'm not that bothered about looks and such, I just want someone who will put up with whatever I throw at them.       I think D could be my favourite letter for what I want, downtrodden, dejected, dependant, desperate, doormat, perhaps even damaged. Even if you are not these, but want to be, or will be these at times, there could be opportunity.       I know what I seek is difficult to find, especially on a long-term basis, so I would perhaps consider other arrangements, chat only, occasionals, part-time and so on, although my preference is for something regular, on-going, something where there is time to build deeper trust, explore hidden alleyways of the minds, to actually learn each other.            I'm not likely to be on here much, it is very much a case of nothing ventured, nothing gained. However I do get mail notifications, so anyone who does decide to message me will be read soon after.       Totally single, can travel, can accommodate

This is really difficult. And I don't mean being cute or pretty. I'm talking about trying to find somebody. I mean I kind of wanted a female, a woman, but I'm realizing, what would a woman want to do with me? I mean, unless she saw our relationship as some kind of lesbian relationship. But then why invest the time with me? Just get a woman. It isn't like I've been cuckhold now I'm just watching my last relationship have sex with men and we go and get our hair done together. That's a silly dumb fantasy. I don't really expect that ever. So it becomes kind of complicated. Being with a guy, I've been there. It never really works out. Most guys really have no idea. And I don't mean that in a mean way. And yes I've tried, thinking OK I'll be with a guy he can just go be a guy I'll be the girl I'll take care of everything that I need to to be cute and pretty. But oddly enough, it never seems to work out that way. I am submissive and really truly just want to explore more of a relationship as a submissive and feminine. I've done all the hard work myself. I am on estrogen and other feminizing pharmaceuticals. I've actually been surgically castrated, yes, have no balls. But yet I still can't find someone. And yet I still also feel more male than female. Is there really a woman out there that actually enjoys the art of emasculation? And also possibly feminization. I remember a long time ago I was at a bar out here in California, called the Oxwood Inn (I think that was it) and I saw a cute couple. a black woman, clearly the dominant, and a effeminate partner. I started a conversation with her, the dominant, basically asking about their relationship, and if she was together with her. I was quickly explained that yes, they do live together. She was working to turn him into a her in every way. This honestly fascinated me so much so that I still kind of looking for that same relationship. Now I'm sure there are men out there that might be able to do this? I've even gone so far as wondered if possibly I could pay somebody. Make some sort of long-term agreement because I'm sure this isn't gonna happen in a month or three months I would venture to say for complete transition, it's got to be at least a year? But then again what do I know? 

I am at a point where I would like a live in. A romantic relationship would be ideal, but a house bitch would be acceptable. I am in the process of purchasing a 3 bedroom home in an affluent part of the south bay area of Los Angeles. It will be fully remodeled and beautifully upgraded in a resort community with many amenities.  I will NOT be supporting you. You will be expected to pay your own way and contribute financially to the household, as if you were a roommate. You should be a working professional with a good income or prove that you have the solid financial means to contribute. I work full time from home M-F, a corporate type job with regular hours. You should keep a compatible schedule or travel frequently. Tell me what you could do to make my life easier and how you could serve, whether personally or within our household. What are your skills? We'd start with a trial period first to assess our compatibility. All other attributes, per my profile, still apply. You must be over 35 and have your life together. I'm not looking to "rescue" anyone with drama, mental illness, substance abuse, or instability in your life. If you can't string together a decent intro, I can't be bothered with replying.  

Embracing my slumber, I feel as though I'm in a dream  The softness of your caress, has me feeling so serene I want to open my eyes to make sure you are real  I will not venture, because I don't want to interrupt what I feel  The moisture begins to flow as my body loses control  You have me at this point and I will never say no  Relaxation and anxiety are about to collide  Multi orgasmic pleasure, I will never hide  WOW!

  A thought    B S and M are the body of BDSM then the D is the breath.  

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? 

I'm grateful to Master Dominus11 for permission to reproduce this entry from His journal.  It so nicely summarises everything I feel! slavery is not about suffering - slavery is about service.slavery is not about humiliation - slavery is about humility.slavery is not about pain - slavery is about being present.slavery is not about being used - slavery is about being of use.slavery is not about control - slavery is about letting go.slavery is not about what is done to you - slavery is about what you do for others.slavery is not about abuse - slavery is about acceptance.slavery is not about proving anything - slavery is about being real. slavery is not about contempt - slavery is about respectslavery is not about how you look - slavery is about how much you care. slavery is not about denying yourself - slavery is about being open slavery is not about bondage - slavery is about freeing your spirit. slavery is not about punishment - slavery is about discipline  slavery is not about being unable to escape - slavery is about being committed slavery is not about submission - slavery is about obedience. slavery is not about fear - slavery is about trust. slavery is not about sex - slavery is about love. slavery is not about pleasure - slavery is about happiness.

It has occurred to me that for thousands of years almost every woman (and man) has participated in not just power exchange, but perhaps a form of prostitution as well. Almost every marriage in history is a result of women looking for protection and provision. In exchange for this the man gets sex. What says the crowd? While on the subject of prostitution, if a woman does exchange sexual favors for compensation, has she also committed the crime of human trafficking, even if her "victim: was herself? Many want "Her body, Her choice" but when it comes to prostitution they will write a hundred laws to prevent it (except for the escorts their aids bring in for them).

The prop master and the wardrobe stylist got me ready for the rack scene.  I was given a dungeon rag to wear over my tiny bikini.  It was adjusted so the bikini would be hidden underneath it.  I think it was supposed to be white but it was made to look worn and tattered.  The PM led me to the rack. PM: Have you used one of these before? Me: Yes, many times but slightly different. PM:  Ok this one only has one roller at the top.  There's a wooden plank that will go under your butt.  That will lift your body off the surface so the camera can see some of you from behind.   Me:  Ok I think I understand.   I laid down on the rack and my wrists and ankles were attached by ropes to the far corners.  The plank was positioned behind me.  Water was sprayed on me from a bottle and the slack on the ropes were taken in.  The assistant director explained.   AD:  Ok everyone quiet on the set.  This shot is going to take a few camera angles.  I want a slow pan of her body from toes to hands.  You just need to look very distressed ok? Me:  Ok.   AD:  Action!   I pretended to struggle in my bonds and my chest heaved slightly as I writhed in mock pain.   AD: Cut!  Reposition! The camera was now filming from the top of my head looking down at my body.   AD: Action!  Reposition! The camera was now suspended above me and filmed my spread eagle body.   AD: Cut!  Alright everyone well done.  So how do you feel? Do you think you can handle being strung up? Me:  Sure.  I need a quick bathroom break ok? AD:  Take five everyone.   I went to the bathroom to gather my thoughts.  I couldn't tell if anyone saw how turned on I was being on that rack in front of everyone.  Now I was about to be suspended.  I hope I can get through this without squirting on everything! I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror.  My stomach was nice and flat and my tits were firm and round.  I smiled and went back on set.   PM: Ok I'm going to suspend you here.  The director would like for your ankles to be tied as well so that you're stretched.  Are you ok with that?   Me:  Yes.  I've done this before.   PM:  Ok if you have any problems just say so.  You're not gagged so just let me know and I'll come get you down but remember it's going to take a few seconds so don't get panicked ok? Me:  Ok no worries.  I offer my wrists to him with a smile.   I'm fitted with the restraints and taken to the suspension area.  The director explains that this scene will also be taken with different angles and that I'll have to stay put while the camera is repositioned.  The entire set is watching as I'm suspended spread eagle in chains.  My body is wetted down like before.  When the director yells action the camera films my stretched body from different angles.  I can see myself in the monitor just off set.  The camera is slowly panning over my stretched thighs and my hip bones and then my stretched ribs.  My face is a mask of pain as I endure the stretching.   AD:  Cut!  There is applause on the set.  I'm surrounded by the other actors and crew on the set as they shower me with compliments.  The prop master is all smiles as he takes me down.  That was awesome! He says.