Looking for a connection with someone who hasn't logged in since 2014? Just looking for Friends Only but would love pages and pages of profiles whose last login is 3 years ago, 10 years ago, or more? Don't worry! We at CollarsSpace have you covered too! Just click on "Local Users" and you'll find page after page of profiles that haven't been logged into since 2019, since 2014, since 2010 or even since the first decade of the century! Yes there's profiles not used since 2005 and we'll make sure to disproportionately feature them extra prominently! Oh shucks, you're quite welcome.. But kidding aside folks: It didn't used to be this way until a couple of years ago, when this  started..Before that time, not that many years ago, the Local Users page was not this way, and worked fine. If it's on purpose to "protect people" from getting a huge amount of email the first week then they could just remove the section. Pretty sure that some do not need or want that 'protection' but if that was the goal, then they could remove the section, so seems to be a software issue. No, it's not random dates, either, it changed radically at some point, from a mix of Last Online dates as you'd expect, and mostly not that long ago, to very heavily tilted to like 95 percent of profiles shown (probably more, the exceptions are quite rare) being those that haven't been used for many, many years. Anyone have insight into the minds or intentions of the administrators, or the situation they are in?

As usual , My inbox overflows.  There are many reasons why I may not reply to a message.  My time is limited. If I allowed it, responding to messages could be a full time job.  There have been plenty of times I have accidentally or internationally opened a message  and found I wanted to reply. However,  I  didn't have time at that moment.  Later to find the message was too far lost amongst the rest. Recently I strolled through the pages of messages and came across a very well written message  from a submissive  who seemed to have potential.   If you send Me a message which is not acceptable . One which does not show respect it will surely not get a kind reply if it gets a reply at all. If I was communicating with you and you did not comply with My demands you can assume I stopped communication.  If I was communicating with you and some time has lapsed there is a good chance your messages are lost in the masses.   If you want My attention write an amazing message to Me. Include a respectable,  recent, clear photo of yourself. Expect to share your email address and phone number if I ask for it. I will not text you.  I will not be sharing My phone number with you,  unless I decide to.    I  will only ask for your phone number if I wish to interview you further via phone. I use no apps, except whatsapp for international.    I am not here to serve you! I expect you come to Me to serve Me.

"First Encounter" Inner thoughts of this dom. HIM:  "Today I'm about to meet this incredibly sexy submissive ive been coveting for a while. She a cute little thing that would be perfect to join my family. I wonder how quick she will succumb to my will? What and how far will she go to be allowed to orgasm?" These as many other stray and random thought rattled their way around my mind. The excitement mounting as we were about to meet real time after a very long period of online and phone chats as we each revealed ourselves to each other. Developing what we hoped would be a meet that would cause sparks to fly within us as the anticipation had grown that seductive. I meet you at a quiet little bar. There we introduce ourselves for the first time in real life. I feel like I know so much about you after the many weeks we have spent chatting online. You are even more beautiful in person. As I hug you tightly to my body the faint whiff of your perfume entices me. I slowly slide my hands down your back as out tongues dance in our joined mouths. Working down your firm ass I can't help but squeeze your cheeks. I slight moan escapes your lips into my mouth. I disengage our lips and bring my face against your neck. Once again inhaling your perfume and freshly washed hair. As I bring one hand up to your head to hold it in place as I nuzzle your neck my other hand slides up your short dress to make sure you followed my instructions and didn't wear underwear.  I pull your head to the side by your hair exposing your neck. Like Dracula I attack your neck. Nibbling and licking it as I work my way to your naked shoulder. My other hand openly caressing your naked ass for all to see. I am so proud of her. She passingly mentioned to me that she was never into PDA nor was she much for kissing. Yet here we stood locked together mouth to mouth for all the world to see. "If only she had gotten thus kind of affection more often. Would she feel differently?" I think to myself.  She feels the cool breeze against her naked ass as I intentionally expose it. I want to see her reaction to my actions. Will she deny my? If I am to be her sir surely she will comply. She knows if she passes the tasks I will bestow upon her over the next week that she will find shelter within my arms. Secure in the fact that I will help her grow and be there to catch her when she falls. For this she will give me her mind, heart and body but eventually I want to own her soul. The pilgrimage of that honor is my quest.   HER: Feeling you lift my incredibly already short skirt and the breeze on my ass, you feel my whole body grow warm, and see the bright red spreading across my skin, as i move my hand to cover my poor ass and gs every so quietly, in your grip i do my best to turn away from the other people near by knowing i wont get far i still wiggle and whisper a quiet "Sir, theres people looking" all the whole attempting to pull the skirt back down and cover myself.  As she tries to pull back her skirt feeling humiliated and embarrassed I quietly whisper in her ear. It ok baby girl. You are beautiful scars and all. I desire to show you off. Love yourself for me.  You feel my fingers sliding between the cheeks of your ass. Relieved that this action is allowing your skirt to begin covering your nakedness. Suddenly you feel my finger tip dip between your lips that are moist from fear and excitement. The action is quick and efficient. Only lasting a split second yet the feelings it created within you may last much longer. You quickly look around to see if anyone noticed your reaction and what sir is doing to you. There at the bar is a young man. He can't be any older than 22. A grin on his face as he quickly turns away when you look his way as if you wouldn't notice the lust within his eyes. You suddenly feel wanted and desired.  Here your sir wants you and is giving you the attention you've been longing for for so long. And a man who is so young looks at you like a cougar with lust. Willing to pounce on you if he could. All these thoughts are running freely thru your tangled mind. Mixed emotions running ramped like a freed feral cat. Yet your body is betraying you with its actions. You turn suddenly away from me pulling me towards the waiting booth in the darker corner. I see the flushed look in your face. The embarrassment I have caused you. It turns me on making my cock twitch even more. The wetness I felt when dipping my finger in you showed me how your body betrays your mind. Although embarrassed you are turned on. Is it because of my actions or because you were being watched. I glance at the young man who is once again looking. I look him in the eye with alpha male intimidation that has served me well all my life. Something earned taught and released from my primal interior being from the years I spent in special forces while in the military. Something about one who has seen things that show the ugliness of man is like an imprint. Although not visible it is detected in posture. My eyes show a certain sadness but also scream that I am not one to be reckoned with. The young man immediately turns away. He picks up his beer and goes to the other end of the bar. Interpreting the unsaid message given to him by just a glare by a man more than twice his age. That instant momentarily distracts me as I faintly hear something you said but didn't fully acknowledge.  I pull you back to me. Holding you tight against my body once again. I feel your breasts pressed against my chest. Our groins mashed together as if they already know what is to come later. Anxious to get started as my cock strains against the denim of my jeans held prisoner. I whisper once again into your ear. "It's OK baby girl. I want to feel you against me for another moment.  After all these weeks you are now flesh and not just words. I nip your bare shoulder lightly with my teeth.  My tongue then flicks back and forth where my teeth once bit as if to offer a healing moment.  Unneeded tho because of the gentleness of it. Putting the smile on my face that I use for the world, the one that doesn't necessarily reach my eyes but seems to somehow charm everyone that comes in contact with.  Feeling you slide into the booth next to me, I have to concentrate so hard. In a way that I do not tense up, but keep my body relaxed. In the way "he who must not be named" showed me at all times. Afterall, no man wants to cuddle a corpse Katey! Shaking the thought from my head. I relax and let my features fall soft. Warm and welcoming. I risk a glance up from the table where my gaze has previously been focused and catch his eyes. They're peering into mine! Why on earth does it feel like he's looking straight into my soul? No one ever notices this much or pays this much attention. I know I'm cute tonight. Hell, I'm always cute. Enough cleavage showing to capture the attention of everyone in the room that has a penis and even some who don't. Why is he so focused on my eyes?  Shifting nervously but trying so hard to stay relaxed. (No one cuddles a corpse Katey!) I can't help but freeze just a bit as he grabs my hand pulling it to his face. Please don't notice the sweaty palms I chant in my head. He's going to think I'm insane or unable to show love. SHIT! What if he thinks I don't like him?  Pushing the thoughts from my head again drawing my focus back to the moment. I realize he's speaking to me. Not hearing half the words, but his eyes capturing mine again like he seems to have a talent of doing. I see a soft side in there. Someone honestly gentle.  You've seen that before too Katey! Right before the black eye my brat pipes up. Shut up it's different this time try to have faith. I zone back into his words and catch something about being his pet for the night.  About being taught new things. This stirs the curious one, the fun filled one with the will to live inside me. She gets super excited bouncing up and down like a child seeing stars for the first time. Eyes shining bright. She loves to learn new things.  All this flashes across my face before the brat hog ties her and sits her back down in the chair. For once her and I agree. Now is not the time for you to surface we're still treading new waters here. Wondering if he saw the roller coaster of emotions going through my twisted broken mind before my face settles. Back to the factory style smile and shining blue eyes all the men seem to love. I relax into his touch trying to show I'm not a mutant. Afraid I'll come off robotic. The motions coming so natural they seem programmed ( No one cuddles a corpse Katey!)  Hoping this gets past him and smile briefly hearing him say, "Tonight I own you". I reply with a sweet, "Yes Sir! I can't wait." Looking into her eyes as he holds her hand for reassurance he sees inner conflict. A turbulent turmoil of emotions taking flight within. He understands these feelings all too well. Demons that he himself has wrestled with for most of his life. His innocence stripped away from him as a delusional teenager.  His mind flashes back to the day he graduated high school. Signing his life away for the next 4yrs. Gonna be a GI! Government Issued, warrior. Right the wrongs and save the world from evil.  Yeah if only he knew who the enemy really was. How evil is everywhere in so many shapes and forms. A delusioned man child at only 18 who thought he knew it all. Quickly his mind snaps back to her. He lays her hand on his thigh and holds it there. Mere inches from his inflamed cock. Swelling that she has caused. Yes she is cute. Those beautiful braless tits on display. Just as he had instructed her to show off. Her beautiful, wanting to please, features displayed on her face. Her body, in that short dress. This too he had requested. One that could have started wars centuries ago. Her freshly washed hair with a hint of fruity smell.  My God what I want to do to that body! But no not yet! Beautiful women are a dime a dozen. That's not what I am after. I want that inner beauty I know is there hiding in fear in the darkness. Perhaps behind one too many negative experiences.  He looks at her again. Tilts his head to the side and leans in. Plants a soft kiss upon her forehead. "This is to free your mind of evil thoughts.", he tells her. Then leaving her hand on his thigh he takes hold of her head. One hand on either side and draws it to him. He kisses one eye, as her eyes instinctively closed. Perhaps out of fear. Then he kisses the other. "These are to ward off evil visions and nightmares.", he tells her. As he releases her he notices her hand is right where he left it. Is it out of fear he wonders as he glances down. Then he sees her moving her hand. Rubbing his thigh. Almost as if she is giving him a non-verbal thank you. Thanking her lucky stars she's put on her trained face. Her body falling in line with the program. This scene all well to practiced in previous encounters with other men. Her body doesn't trip her up for once. It manages to stay relaxed when he reaches for her hand placing it on his thigh.  He keeps her hand trapped under his a few moments. A feeling she's used to. The pinned down feeling. But this time something is different about it. Maybe it's the soft sweet words coming from a reassuring mouth. Instead of the normal don't move whore she was used to. Maybe its the sweet soft kisses he's laid upon her forehead or eyes. She's never felt something like this in all her years experience with men. She finds it confusing. Yet comforting. Feeling that wonder child inside stir some more before the brat slaps her in the back of the head. This is why you stay locked down. Too eager and not enough caution.  The mix of emotions inside rolling over in her mind cause an automatic reaction. The smile softens on her lips. Eyes closing just a little before she peers up at him through her lashes. His hand has moved but two things occured. One she knows never to move from a spot youve been placed unless you want the belt. Yet, a stranger feeling she's not sure she's felt before. Of not wanting to move hand this time. In fear of feeling to stiff again she lightly brushes her fingertips along his thigh. Not out of habit this time but because maybe part of her actually wanted to.  Squeezing her thighs together she notices how wet she's become. She can't understand it. Pressing them tighter in fear of leaving behind a wet spot. She can't help but think, "Where are the drinks?" His relief at feeling her hand beginning to rub his thigh is a welcome relief. Although part of him wonders. Is this just a programmed response? Is she like the many other women he has spent countless hours with chatting, exchanging photos and erotica only to vanish after the session was over.  Almost as if, they, no different than what would be considered creepy guys. They used him to flirt and arouse until they achieved their level of sexual satisfaction and then disappeared. Leading him on like a cruel joke. No he says. That's why he reminds himself, it's not about the sex.  If not to toy with him then what would a beautiful young woman see in an older man like himself. The look in her eyes as she looks at him gives him strength. He sees so much of himself in her. Scars of hurt, rejection, pain and broken promises of lost love.  Yet here I am today he says almost out loud. Daring to take each step to move forward proud and strong. To never give up and to fight whatever battle comes my way. In whatever shape or form it manifests itself. His strength comes from his confidence. A weaker man would be shy and afraid to take a chance again for fear of once again being used and rejected. Tossed aside like left over scraps. But no not me. I am a WARRIOR! I want to believe that there are still people who can love out there the way I do. It keeps my faith in humanity from being irradicated. All this swims through him as his mind processes it all with the lightning speed of a super computer. Just like his training. Compartmentalize evaluate the situation and act. It has worked for him all his life. The long pause between them like a moment of silence causes some awkwardness between them. Then he feels her rubbing his thigh harder. More confidently as if by her own attrition and not a programmed response or expectational desire. It's as if she can see him go far away and is saying, "I'm here. I want to be here and you're ok". Once again he looks into her eyes and sees something that wasn't there before. A softness. A real glitter almost as if they were smiling at him. Wanting and desiring him. His already hard cock twitches. He feels it touch against her hand from the unexpected reaction she's caused. He feels a wetness against his bare thigh as he realizes he's leaking because of her! Thoughts are interrupted as the waitress finally arrives. He orders a Sprite for himself and looks at her and asks. "What would you like beautiful?" A gentle nibble and a kiss! Her coy way of showing affection is illuminating. Her cute sense of witty humor threw him off guard but breaks a grin on his face. She has the humor in her like I do he thinks.  He turns to her and sees her sitting there hands clasped together on her lap. Legs firmly held tight as if to ward off foreign invaders and protect her real-estate.  He slowly eyes her up and down. Her breasts he notices pushed out as if she is attempting to seduce him with them. Her heavy breathing pushing them in and out each time she takes a breath.  He notices how the dress accents her features and brings out the woman in her. Good choice he thinks to himself glad that he purchased it for her and had it shipped to her. Along with the garters that hold up those incredible stockings he liked so much. As he continues down he sees the cowgirl boots as well. He noticed how well the whole outfit fit her earlier but was too enthralled with other things to notice all the details till now. Even tho they are imprinted in his mind to remember forever. Their first meet and date which if leads to what he hopes and knows she desires may be a long term relationship. He brings his eyes up and looks deep into her eyes now. He made it quite obvious that he was checking her out. He looks at her hoping that checking her out and admiring her has pleased her. Perhaps even aroused her. He leans in and plants a soft and gentle kiss on her neck again. He loves necks and shoulders. Moving to her ear as the waitress returns with their drinks He whispers. "You are sexy as fuck. Even more beautiful in person than all the pictures and videos you sent me can capture. If only you knew how much I desire you right now." The waitress places the drinks in front of them smiling as she overheard his comment. She even noticed his tongue flicker across her ear. "Would you two like anything to eat tonight?" She asks. He looks at her and grins. "On our menu" she chuckles knowing what that grin insinuated. His Katey too giggled at that. Feeling more confident in herself knowing his desire was genuine.  He laughing says. Yes please can you bring us some menus.  You obviously know what I would like as my appetizer and dessert He says to the waitress knowing she has a good sense of humor. The waitress laughs with him. I don't blame you she says. I would probably skip all of that and just have her as the main course myself..... A chuckle from in his heart surfaces itself. It's audible sound to those within earshot turn to look it is that infectious and genuine. He wraps his arm around her neck as she cuddles into him for the first time. Feeling her warmth against him he wraps his arm around her neck holding her closer to him. Enjoying how she feels. He notices and feels her hand upon his thigh. This time voluntarily and with movement of its own.  "She's a firecracker isn't she" he half asks half states to the waitress. The waitress can't help but notice in the position she is in now with her head tucked into him, his arm around her neck asnif claiming ownership that she can see right down her dress. Her beautiful breast in plain sight and her nipples hard from arousal. She sees the woman's hand move to his thigh. The action of her rubbing draws her attention to it. She notices how hard he is and how his cock is running down the inside of his thigh mere millimeters from her hand. She notices what looks to be a damp spit on his jeans. She's is mesmerized by these two as she is hypnotized by their hidden affection and the energy radiating from them. She sees her run her finger along the length of his rigid cock. Slowly methodically with purpose. This little vixen knows exactly what she is doing as she looks up at her, stares into her eyes and grins. His cock continually twitching and pulsing from her actions. His voice draws her back to reality. "Whatever she wants tonight. We are celebrating our union" he says. Then he looks down at her as she lifts her eyes to meet his. A glimmer that sparkles thru his piercing blue eyes looking deep into hers. "What would my darling pet like to eat" he softly asks her. As he waits for her reply he can't help but feel a rush running thru his body. The way she's teasing his cock on her own. She may think that he didn't notice the pixy like smile she gave the waitress who saw her doing it. As he looks down into her eyes to ask her what she would like he too notices the plunging neckline of her dress is allowing anyone above her to see her tits. He sees her nipples standing out exceptionally far and hard from the soft roundness of her breast.  It excites him making him leak once again. He can feel the wet warmth released from the eye of his cock. After asking her what she would like he gently blows down the front of her dress. His breath running down her neck across her brwasr and to her nipples. He swears it looks like they just got bigger from that. He turns to the waitress noticing she saw this too. Her reaction is priceless. Her almost hypnotic state excites him. She TOO wants and desires his little pet nestled softly and safely against him as his strong arm holds her tight. He blinks his eyes several times. The light starting to creep its way into the room is almost blinding. He rubs them trying to get the sleep out of them as he looks around and then checks out the clock. Looking down at his crotch he realizes his cock is still hard. There's even a couple wet spots on his underwear. Clearing his head he slowly gets up to go make coffee. Wow that was one hell of a dream he smiles to himself remembering it.  

I always find female dominatrix BDSM boring.... Well, to be honest, I find female dominatrix BDSM boring. I mean, don't get me wrong, I can see why some people might enjoy it(not me), but it's just not my thing even to talk or suggest. For one, for what I can see and feel very repetitive against males and paranoid .we males especially straight heterosexual are target by other genders as maniacs, perverts and worse not trustable which i always find very offensive even if there are many idiots doesn't mean we all the same but further more is the attitude of others gender want hunting down straight heterosexual males;in my life i never done anything not consensual . It's like everyone is following a predetermined set of rules towards males just to get credentials and reputations , which doesn't leave a lot of room for creativity or spontaneity. Another thing that turns me off is the extreme nature of want to show their supremacy (when, how and with who) . Overall, I think it's important for everyone to figure out what they like and what they don't like in their BDSM experiences. Furthermore, I think that the stigma around male sexuality and the perception of men as potential perpetrators of sexual violence is untrue as not everybody are! As a straight heterosexual male, I feel that I am often unfairly targeted as a potential maniac or pervert, which I find offensive. The idea that there is a generation of women who want to hunt down straight heterosexual males is deeply offended me, especially as I have never engaged in any non-consensual behaviour in my life.

What's in a name? Obligatory attention getting headline: Every time you say your Dom's name, you reinforce everything he is to you. I've been in this life for a long time now. I've been called many things, from Master/Daddy to everything else under the sun. What you call your Dom isn't just a cute pet name, it reinforces what he is to you every time you say it. Each name means something different, and when you use it, you’re shaping the dynamic between you and your owner. So here's what these names mean both to you, and to Them.   Sir Lets start with the basics. Here is how and when to use your Dom's name: - Yes, Sir - No, Sir - Please, Sir - Thank you, Sir - Sorry, Sir - Sir, may i... Sir is an honorary given to any random Dom out of respect to the position, not necessarily the person. Should the individual in the Dom position lose your respect, you may stop referring to him with that honorary title. The respect must be lost though, saying "it must be earned" is no excuse. While some, after collaring, choose to keep calling their Dom "Sir", most choose a new title that more clearly emphasizes their relationship roles.   Master When you call your owner Master, you’re telling him you want to feel possessed, controlled, and kept. It’s the title you choose to call your owner when surrender is what you crave, handing yourself over fully and feeling the thrill of being someone else's prized possession.   Daddy When you call your owner Daddy, you’re asking for more than just authority. you’re asking for safety, nurturing, and guidance. It’s discipline wrapped in comfort. You’re saying, “I’m yours, but I’m also protected.” For many, that mix of strength and softness is exactly what they need. There’s often a paternal craving behind it too, which is nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed about. Embrace your desire to be cared for, corrected, and cherished the way only a protective father could.   my Lord When you call your owner my Lord, you’re putting him above you. Not just as your Dominant, but as someone you revere. It’s about hierarchy, about structure, about finding peace in knowing your place beneath his dominion. It’s old-fashioned, sure, but it carries a kind of ritual weight that can be deeply grounding.   Sire When you call your owner Sire, you’re giving him the tone of nobility, but it’s not quite the same as My Lord. My Lord is reverent, almost worshipful; it places him above you in a way that feels ceremonial, tied to the safety you find in his dominion. Sire, on the other hand, leans heavier into command and authority. It’s the word subjaspects would use for a king, not just a nobleman, but the one who rules, whose word carries absolute weight. Where My Lord can feel romantic or devotional, Sire feels sharper, more commanding. Saying it is like kneeling at the foot of the throne and swearing loyalty, not just offering service.   Mister (Lastname) When you call your owner Mr. , you’re looking at him as a figure of moral authority. It’s like the strict teacher who praises when you do well and corraspects you when you don’t. You live for his approval, and you fear his disappointment. Punishment becomes penance; obedience becomes devotion.   Vicar When you call your owner Vicar, you’re placing him in the role of a guide, someone who leads you not just with rules, but with care. It’s a name that carries a sacred weight. Correction feels like absolution, rules feel like doctrine, and obedience becomes something almost holy. You’re not just following him, you’re finding both forgiveness and salvation through him.   Maestro This is usually for the more latin-oriented as Maestro is a Spanish name. The slave who called me this was a beautiful Nicaraguan who I had named "bonita". When you call your owner Maestro, you’re seeing him not just as someone in control, but as someone creating something with that control. Maestron litterally translates to "Teacher", but think conductor, artist, master craftsman. Think of yourself as a blank canvas, and your owner as the one who will shape you.   Every name you choose carries weight: Sir is about respect, and the starting point before a deeper title is chosen. Master is about possession. Daddy is about protection and nurturing. My Lord is about reverence. Sire is about command, your loyalty sworn to a ruler whose word is absolute. Mr. Lastname is about moral authority.</

Well Used... This week has been a combination of failure and success. Not much to do when on your cycle, but did still plug a couple of days during that. Open to possible options in how to be of showing submission during that time. Of course bj's are in the table. Sometimes, however, that's not desired by my owner. On the upside, there was being fucked senseless while plugged. And the last 24 hours has been very good. One round if being eaten out and fingered. Three rounds of being woken up for sex. He seems pleased that I always seem ready to go even being woken up in the middle of the night. On to week three!

The following stated by another Rubberist summarizes my passion:Those that enjoy full rubber enclosure are into it because It's about being cut off from the outside world and being controlled in bondage, objectification. It also arouses by the feel of hot rubber on the skin, the aroma, the sound and the look.😍Rubber envelopes and controls the senses and combined with bondage and breath control is a total experience 😁I love it.

My Name is Sara Sands I am a transgender M2F, I have always felt Femmine and submissive but not a Slave type, I have a great deal of experience in D/s and always craving to learn and expand my submission deeper, I have served Dom Men, Domme Females and Domme trans, and Dom/Domme couples I am very obedient and very clean, I know from my yrs of meeting that a Dominant and submissive connection starts with Mindset, Sexual acts are the product of unlocking that mindset, Verbal control of me to start is key to my submission, The only way I have found pleasure is in serving and pleasing my Dom/Domme Humiliation and Punishment, I understand is a tool to remind me of my place and purpose, Once I have given my gift of submission to a Dominant I do as I'm told without hesitation or resistance, I have limits that I know will be tested but do know they would be respected, I am openminded/kinky. This is my first Journal Entry, I will be adding more in time, Starting with some real-life meets both the good ones and bad ones, Sharing the bad meets I hope will maybe spare others the mistakes I've made in judgment Thank you, anyone, that has taken time to read this intro of myself , Sara

  A day in service    I rise at dawn, my body sore, To chores and tasks, and much, much more. The floor I scrub, the dust I chase, A flick of the wrist, a stern command sets the pace.   Her coffee brewed, just so, just right, I dare not fail, in morning's light. Her silk robe flows, a queenly sight, I bow my head, avoid her light.   The day is long, a string of tests, To prove my worth, to quell her jests. A word of praise, a precious prize, Reflected in her knowing eyes.   The afternoon, a humbler task, Her boots to clean, that's all I ask. To kneel and wipe, to polish well, The story that my movements tell.   The sun descends, the day is done, The final test has now begun. She summons me with one sharp look, My place is found, my writing's in a book.   Her throne awaits, a velvet chair, I crawl toward her, breathless, aware. The day's devotion finds its end, My goddess, whom I can't transcend.   Her sacred space, my final quest, My weary head upon her breast. My tongue performs the rite so true, My world is her, in every hue.

When punishing a girl, a discerning owner will not restrain her. The purpose of punishment is to teach a lesson and that lesson is usually one of helping her learn control. Sometimes of what she says, other times of what she does or doesnt do. She has to learn a better way, to understand the needs of the one she serves, and to behave accordingly. When I punish it is with a cane. The girl is bent over something like a bed or desk or chair, and allowed to get set into a position. My preferred place for punishment is over a desk, arms either outstretched in front or to the sides, legs spread but not excessively, and the girl's rear exposed. Then I use chalk to mark where her hands and feet are and we begin. The rules are simple. No outbursts or the count starts over. No lifting hands or feet or the count starts over. If the chalk lines are excessively smudged, the count starts over. She counts. She may ask permission for an interlude, but if she does so without good reason then the count starts again. If she cannot control herself when it is wholly to her benefit to do so, then perhaps this is not the world for her. If she can, then the punishment serves its purpose, she atones and life moves on to more pleasurable things. Either way, his will be done should be the mantra on every girls lips.

May 16, 2023 - Sextoy69 got a HARD throat fucking today !It's been awhile since he has stopped by. And last time he came by it was unannounced and I was in my bathroom. He said it was hot that all I had on was the bathrobe.So this time, knowing he was going to arrive, I dressed all in leather. A leather jockstrap, a leather harness, a leather vest, a leather Sir cap.I told him to come on in when he gets here but instead I surprised him by meeting him in the garage dressed like I've described.His face lit up as soon as he walked into the garage and could see me. I told him, "I thought I would dress up a bit today for you."He said, that looks great.We headed upstairs and he started to lay down on the bed on his back. Normally I just climb on top of him and start throat fucking him right away. This time I had other ideas.I told him to get on all fours with his head down on the mattress and his ass in the air. I lubed up a finger and started playing with the outside of his ass. His dick started to get hard so I reached between his legs and started playing with it. Eventually I slipped my finger in his ass and found his prostate gland and started pushing on it. I felt his cock bounce in my other hand.I continued playing with his ass with one finger until I felt him starting to loosen up. Eventually I put a second finger in with a bit of extra lube. I stopped playing with his cock and concentrated on his ass for a while. I rotated my two fingers around stretching his hole open. His chest collapsed even more onto the bed as he pushed his ass higher into the air.I reached between his legs again and started playing with his hard cock. There was pre-cum dripping out. I pulled my fingers out of his ass, and collected some of the pre-cum on those fingers and shoved my fingers and his pre come back into his ass.As I played with his cock his ass tightened around my fingers. This only made it even more fun to spend my fingers around and listen to him moan. Occasionally after playing with his cock for a while my fingers were sticky with his precum so I started playing with my own cock using his pre-cum. I knew eventually he'd be sucking my dick which would mean he would be sucking his own pre-cum off my cock.Although we've been playing for a while I've only fucked him once before. And he didn't really like the experience, although he loves sucking and choking on my cock. As I was playing with his ass, and playing with my own cock using his precum, I wanted to fuck him so bad. But, we hadn't discussed it so I kind of put it out of my mind and just kept playing.I eventually got a third finger into his tight ass using even more lube. Then I reached back behind me to the table and got a large rubber dildo. It's narrower at the tip and grows wider as more and more gets pushed in. With very little effort, it started to slide in his ass. I pulled it out and shoved it back in, fucking him with it. Fucking him with it the way I wanted my cock to fuck him.I pushed a little deeper, and then pulled it all the way out again. Added a little lube and pushed it in to the same depth again. Still playing with my own cock, I would occasionally play with his cock to get more precum on my hand to lubricate my cock. He was pushing his ass higher and higher into the air, but at the same time spreading his legs so I could continue to play with this cock.The toy was now pushed in his ass far enough that it was equivalent to the three fingers I had in him just moments ago. So I pushed a little further, a little harder, and more of the toy slipped up his ass. His hole was now quite stretched. He was making wonderful grunting noises as I fucked him with it.   View the rest of tHe story at http://www.SirKel.top

Seeking a final addition to my home, my pack, my fife. I want someone who identifies as submissive or slave. Someone who would enjoy being part of my kink friendly Famale Domme led pack of hubby and boy, enjoying life with us in our beautiful Florida home. I have a room waiting for you, set up to work from home as I do, and 4 friendly dogs who make life better. I still have my kink room and equipment and crave obedience and someone to use for my sadistic whims. There are not many skills in the kink world I am not skilled in, but there are a few I do not prefer to practice. If you are bi sexual that is great, boy is interested, if you are not that is fine too as I am more than enough Lady for everyone.  I now have a brief chat and meet because waiting has not been productive, a lot of chating then ghosting when it is time to meet. I am real, I live the lifestyle 24/7 but of course I have my vanilla/professional side. I have lots of photos and am not afraid to give you my phone number soon. I do not chat on any of the platforms most seem to ask about.  Reach out, your life can change this year. 

I met a Dom on Fet Life who has been keeping me in line the last few weeks. He is not a nice person. I don't really like Him, but as a Dom and potential Master, He is exactly what I need. I've been processing this phenomenon, putting much thought into why I respond to Him so well as a Dom, even though I wouldn't choose to spend time with Him otherwise (and I'm sure it's mutual). I cannot count the number of Doms, Masters, Gods, Slave Owners, etc. that I've met both online and in person who seem unwilling or incapable of issuing an order or command. I tend to follow orders. If I don't receive any, I assume the Dom is uninterested and I move on. Aftter all, it is my job to follow orders, not to issue them. The Man that I am currently serving does not have this problem. I obey all His orders without question, even those I don't want to. It's not my job to choose which orders to follow. If you identify as a slave and you're having trouble attracting potential Masters, maybe you should take a look at your profile and count how many times "me" or "I" appear in your text. Then skim your profile for anything that would tell a potential Master what you could do for Him. Learn much?

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

I've had some interesting conversations of late.   The one who spoke of how much her curiosity drove people away and then spoke about how her mental disorders stopped her being curious and that drove people away.    The one who who admitted all manner of deviant desires but then admitted me knowing those things made her uncomfortable in my company, so she ghosted me.   The one who believed slaves should have no rights, but that she could never be a slave because of that, but that being just a submissive was beneath her.   The one who masturbated openly to thoughts of degradation and humiliation, but was afraid her future owner would expose her to anything degrading or humiliating.   The one who wanted to serve anyone just to practise her skills, but admitted she couldn't serve at all because she just couldn't take D/s seriously.   The theme? Internal conflict. Its a very odd thing to see so many here pulled in such clearly opposing directions. Now, people of all persuasions have regularly dreamed of writing cheques it turned out they couldn't cash; that's par for the course and expected - our reach often exceeds our grasp, after all. But this almost 50/50 spolit been desire and reality, between who we think we are and who we turn out to be, and who we present as and who we then admit to being, is something new. I was away a while, but I did not expect to come back to this. I think it's just fear, something of which there seems to be so much of, more than I ever remember. People are afraid of speaking openly, afraid of seeming dumb, afraid of saying or asking the wrong thing, afraid of learning about themselves, and on and on and on. What I think people are afraid of is being seen for who they really are because so many don't seem to know that basic fact about themselves, and they don't want to put the time, effort and work into finding out, or be vulnerable and humble enough to listen and learn if they do.   It's a dispiriting experience.      

So many uneducated to kink, fantisizing boys out there. Apparently they hover like lost gohsts waiting for their versions of heaven. They have no clue how to actually meet a Domme. Time wasters, taking up space trying to fill in their cookie-cutter cartoon figure of the leather clad evil queen who will not make any trouble after they are satiated. Huummm, wow, thats a ProDomme, Not one of us everyday, living the lifestyle women.  A  fairly insightful post on the FetLife site. A suggested read fo all subs. https://fetlife.com/whytheydanced/posts/12285859 . Also look up 2KinkyWomen.com poscast. Episodes 12,42,44. The other podcasts are good for overall education. Good luck to you all. Read the profiles a couple of times. Actually live close enough to drive to Me. Otherwise, do not even bother wasting both of our time.  H  

I’ve been sitting with an idea lately… Something physical. Intentional. Real. Not just another space where people hide behind screens and curated personas—but a place where presence matters. Where energy is felt the moment you walk in. Where structure, atmosphere, and expectation all exist without needing to be explained. A fetish-inspired bar and restaurant.In South Columbus. Not chaos. Not a free-for-all. But a refined environment—where power, dynamic, conversation, and culture can exist in the same room. Where people understand how to carry themselves. Where discretion and awareness aren’t optional—they’re expected. A place where what you are isn’t something you type… it’s something you embody. So I’m curious— Would you actually show up for something like that? Not online interest. Not fantasy support. Would you walk into that space, present yourself properly, and exist within it in a real way? Because ideas are easy. Building something real… requires the right people. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

Protocol Party Ideas   Low Protocols that are public-friendly.• sub refills the Doms drink.• sub not sitting until the Dom sits• serving the Dom before the sub.• sub not eating until the Dom starts• etc. Medium Protocols are usually seen at kink parties.• sub sitting on floor next to the Dom.• sub saying yes Sir/Maam.• any type of service including play. etc. Then there are High Protocols. These are actions the sub is not to question. They are done quickly and respectfully.• sub is not allowed to speak.• sub can't look into Dom's eyes.• sub stands at attention.• sub walks behind the Dom.• sub obeys all orders.• etc. These are just a few examples of protocols. When beginning to use protocols remember to start slow. Try one or two to begin with and discuss whether they are working or not. It is very gratifying when protocols are used. The sub is pleasing the Dom and the Dom is proud/pleased with the sub. Now that's a turn on. 😁

Gabriel was Jesus.  In Daniel chapter 8 through 10 a man visits Daniel. A voice confirms that it is Gabriel in Daniel 9:21. When the man appears to Daniel again in chapter 10 it does not state that it is Gabriel but I would think the same man would continue to come to him means though he showed up twice already to Daniel. It would not be needed to state a third time that it was Gabriel. And I believe if it was another person Daniel would have been told who it was like how he was told before that the man was Gabriel that came to him in chapters 8 and 9.   In chapter 10 it states that this man's appearance has a body of beryl, face like lightning, eyes like lamps of fire, arms and feet like polished brass, and a voice like the sound of a multitude. He is in the form of a man.    In John 17:5 Jesus is praying to his father in heaven and he states that he wants to be glorified at his side with the glory he has alongside the Father that he had before the world was.    This could be why Mary didn't notice him and mistook him as the gardener and why the one disciple had to put his fingers in the holes of Jesus's hands to truly believe that it was him.    Also in John 8:58 Jesus says before Abraham was I am. He was formed before we were ever created. He created us. He is the invisible image of God but gives all the glory back to the Father as he listens to the Father and does the Father's will. He was Gabriel the mouthpiece of God.    In revelations Jesus is said to come back with his face shining like the sun, voice like the sound of many waters, feet like burnished bronze, eyes like the flame of fire, and hair as white as wool, as a Son of Man meaning a human form with a divine presence.   

The Most Dangerous Woman in the Room Intelligence is non-negotiable for me. Not as a preference, not as a nice-to-have. As oxygen. The dynamic I crave lives and dies on the quality of mind across from me, and frankly, a dull submissive is the least interesting thing I can imagine. What would be the point of the subversion without something worth subverting? Because that is what this is, at its core. Subversion. And it is my favorite thing about my own dominance. There is a particular kind of woman the world has decided it understands. Beautiful, polished, old money in her bones and silver screen glamor in the way she moves. The kind of woman who makes a room recalibrate when she enters it, not loudly, but inevitably. The world looks at her and thinks it knows the story: the accomplished man beside her, the elegant life, the complementary pair. Matched. Balanced. Conventional, underneath the gorgeous surface. The world is wrong, and I find that endlessly delightful. He is, to every outside eye, exactly what he appears: successful, intelligent, the kind of man other men respect without quite knowing why. He carries himself well. He speaks well. He is, in every social context that matters to anyone watching, her equal, if not more. The couple that makes people feel vaguely inspired just by existing in the same room. And then the door closes. And he kneels. That gap, between the world's assumption and the private truth, is where the magic lives for me. It is cinematic in the way that only real things can be cinematic, because no one scripted it, no one performs it for an audience, no one gets to see it but us. It is entirely, privately ours. A secret folded inside the most publicly acceptable packaging imaginable. There is something about a genuinely powerful man choosing, with full understanding of what he is doing, to place himself at the mercy of a woman who will use that power exactly as she sees fit, that feels like the most honest thing two people can construct together. Not despite his strength. Because of it. Submission means nothing from someone who had nothing to surrender. The kneeling matters because of who is doing the kneeling. And I will not pretend the aesthetics are irrelevant, because they are not. The cut of a well-made dress. The particular quality of composure that reads as warmth to strangers and means something else entirely to him. The way the room sees two people and I know, with complete and unhurried certainty, exactly what is happening under the surface of every pleasant exchange. That knowledge is its own kind of power, and I wear it the way I wear everything: beautifully, and without explaining myself to anyone. The Trad wife trope exists as a container for a certain kind of woman. Lovely, accomplished on the correct terms, a complement to the man she stands beside. I find that container useful primarily for how satisfying it is to blow the bottom out of it, privately, completely, in ways the people who built it will never see coming and never get to witness.   That, to me, is what real magic looks like.

thesis statement activiated.       for years i've been studying this dynamic on a spiritual, esoteric, comsic, deep level. seeing so many little girls like me of various ages, genders, nationalities, all that. and yet something was always the SAME. the story kept repeating. it feels like being on a conveyor belt. pumped out trying to figure out the answer faster by dissementing us all..mostly the same with slight variables.       and it feels it's the same but different journey for the men who are daddy dominants. and bit more aloof at times for me to track because i'm not a man..but i've been tracking it too.       if curious, all my writings of this are now on reddit...some time i lost some of what i wrote when i gave up on this for a few years in the past. ask for my name if anyone stumbles upon it and wants to see. i'm divining this through spiritual messages, mostly music, sound, visual, sonic, pop culture media magic. a la goofy fellow little girl from harry potter professor treelawny style.       i don't usually want to write stuff down here. i see what people wrote here on collarME..because i was on here in my 20s when it was called that. and i go yeah that won't stick.       but i know this will for me. i cracked the code. and even if i haven't cracked my michael and our long term permanent phyiscal union as of this creation...i'm pretty sure that this will work.       check this out...as i play the song hidden sign by visage longer version is on..for those who are mystical you'll get what's going on.       i've already tested this with 6 other little girl friends from 20s-50s differen races mostly unmarried...we need to get better at this..how are we going to evolve into the new earth with so many of us continually seperated and too chicken shit to ride it out and face our individual storylines of insecurites together without running away at the first uncomfy hiccup.....come on everyone....but one or two married thank god. and they all checked. they all had uncanny things they forgot or didn't piece it together.       so i know i hit into it.       i at this point have probably 10 pages of this and growing.....and i know my breadth on here is already too long enough for most people's capacity. though i'd like to pass this esoteric knowledge on to the community on this true deepth path beyond physicalness, beyond fun, beyond roleplay, beyond a unawkaen sleep approach that's deeply tapped into the mission.       sailor moon and mamaoru aka darrien and serena, usagi and mamoru are this tale as well. ai no message..message of love for the good of the future.       so if anyones ready to dive deep of any gender and isn't being creepy weird or not serious about it hit a girlie up..i'll give you my reddit..and if you ask nice i'll give you the trascripits of this mystical message i unfolded.....with clear instructions on how to navigate these waters and more....but only if you ask nicely.       until then.....let's start with theis.....there are images to attach but collarme won't let me....so....images are on reddit.       i cracked the code for those that have been following my musings..i've been trying to fucking track this energy. the guy converybelt the girl converybelt........the synergy the unique qualities that keep repeating itself over and over and over and all the fucking over again. an endless journey.   i went deep into my professor treelawny divining....the tea leaves were tea leaving..the music was musicing..the channeling was challenging...the messages were messaging. and i was asking other girlies that i've been friends with..i found this out about me..and i know it's not ME it's an original collective thing..this happened to you too right..yes...okay..what about this in your life..shit when i was 5...of course....   WHAT ABOUT FUCKING THE DRAGONS THOUGH. CYBERPUNK 2077 MR. BLUE EYES...........SPACE...alot.   i'm holding off on my book/dissertation on it cause it's too big for now.   but i figured it all out.   what the fuck is the whole daddy dominant and little girl cycle that keeps happening? why are we humans so instinctively same carbon copy with only small minute changes......because in spite of what society says.. the age, the race, the location, the uniqueness..those are all the fucking details. i had a rando tell me one time that they were unique and i was like oh the things i could tell you about yourself and you don't even know me....unique only to a very finite extent.   welll...here it is.   this is the michael sophia code. i thought it was persephone/hades but that doesn't have the space not quite human life is foreign familiar but not familiar etheric/angelic/galactic thing going on. that was the rough draft.   i was looking for an image to finish this...the lesson isn't learned, the message isn't done...   FIRST FUCKING RESULT UNDER ARCHANGEL MICHAEL AND SOFIA   i'm going to still have go to back to the books for this......i'm still in research mode..how deep is this going to go cause damn...i already passed the twilight zone and the multiverse near the end of time.   this one has that trickster energy you can tell.     i have a penchant to the statue era...it was a vibe. it was a moment..it was a era.   it gives chris brown....one of yall for sure..vibes of   "I don't see how you can hate from outside of the club You can't even get in Leggo"     to be continued as i keep doing this doctoral degree on this shit. but damn i had to come to the surface to say i finally figured out the thesis.       case in point...as i finished verification string says ahshua.....found this       "Ahshua is not a widely documented term in mainstream esoteric, spiritual, or cultural traditions, but based on the pattern and sound of the word, it may carry roots in mystical or sacred languages. Here's some exploration based on its phonetic and spiritual associations:       1. **Hebrew/Aramaic Influence**: The term "Ahshua" could potentially echo the sounds of Hebrew words, particularly related to divine or messianic figures. For example, "Yeshua" is the Hebrew name for Jesus, and the similar sound of "Ahshua" might evoke an esoteric or mystical connection to salvation, divine intervention, or sacred naming traditions. In Kabbalistic teachings, names hold significant power and vibration, so it’s possible this name resonates on a mystical level, even if it’s more modern or personal in origin.       2. **Angelic or Channeled Knowledge**: Sometimes names like "Ahshua" emerge in the context of channeling or angelic traditions. If you're connecting with Archangel Michael or higher-dimensional beings, this name could be part of an energy or being that you are tapping into. Certain spiritual figures are only known within smaller or more esoteric groups.   &nb

Difficult, But, Entertaining. Every once in a while, I have a cunt slave spend the day with their nipples dragging on the floor with every thing they do. it, the slave, is punished if it is found violating the contact order. Yes, it is difficult and, toward the end of the day, painful for the slave. Nevertheless, I find it entertaining, consequently worthwhile.    

Let us play the Let's Pretend game.  (I love the Let's Pretend game!)   Let's pretend that the people typing these profiles and journals and adding pictures and stuff are REAL PEOPLE.  Yup, that might be a bigger ask than is possible.  But let's pretend that is the truth.  It certainly must be for some of us, yes?   Let's further pretend that those who can be defined as real people have been on this site or the predecessor for a while.  Some might have met someone and then UNmet that someone and are back.  Some of those are people who come here lurking but never connecting.  Let's even pretend that some people here are downright serious about all of this but are just having problems connecting with someone they feel is truly compatible.   At the end of the day, however, there is something that we cannot pretend about.  Those of us who are, are real people, with real feelings, and real ambition to eventually find what we want so we don't have to be here any more.  Please take some time to consider others.  Show some respect.  Don't make assumptions about who we are or why we are here.  It can be hard enough without the background noise.   None of us are perfect, and we all have one or two or dozens of flaws.  There is no pretending in the world that can make that not true.  We also have preferences.  Those preferences might very well exclude some these same people who are trying so hard to be right for SOMEONE.  I cannot ask anyone to turn their back on their beliefs or their flaws or their preferences, but what I CAN ask is that we show some kindness, some human dignity.  If anything from the past few years should have taught us is that not only are there trolls online, but many of them started being trolls in real life as well.  People have learned how not to be their best selves.   Be kind.  Be friendly.  MAYBE pretend to think outside the box a little bit.  MAYBE be a little more inclusive, or forgiving those flaws in others that seemed intolerable to you yesterday.  Make someone happy.   I don't want to be the last one here.  Do you?

Now that we have journals back, it's time for an update. This is now a poly household. We're set up with both a dungeon and a medical playroom.  The dungeon is amazingly well stocked with just about every sort of cane, flogger and whip you can imagine, and some things you probably haven't.  Anyone who's interested in play time or dungeon time should feel free to ask. If you're interested in more than just playtime, there are some things you should understand:  This is a KINKY HOUSEHOLD.  It is NOT kid friendly.  If you have kids, and have custody of them, we can talk and even arrange some playtime, but we're probably not going to be a good match.  This is a POLY HOUSEHOLD.  In order to make this dynamic work, everyone involved needs to be willing to compromise and work as a team.  This is a balance that takes work to maintain, and is incomptable with drama.  We're only interested in women who are willing to try to contribute to the dynamic and thereby add to the household.  Chaos is not welcome here.    If you are under 25, we don't expect you to have your life together, but we do expect you to be sane and healthy.  Freaky is encouraged, but have a grip of reality - you've got to start with reality before you plunge down the rabbit hole.  If you are over 35, still living at home and unable to take care of yourself, or still going out to bars and clubs every night you can to get blitzed and hook up, you need to grow up before contacting us.  I am willing to travel to meet, but if you're outside PA, you're going to need to do a video call.  We travel by private plane on the east coast of the US.  If this excites you great, I'd love to have another pilot in the household.  If this terrifies you, we're out of your league.  I'm sure there will be more coming, but this is a good start. 

Let’s contemplate the issue of energy when it come to sex among equals. As a rule nature is perceived as male and female, positive and negative, dry and wet, light and dark, cold hot; you get the idea. However if we add to these categories the fact that there are many ways in which these elements can manifest it becomes apparent that in nature these concepts are very fluid. There are many ways in which gender is conceptualize by cultures and more varied indeed is the manner in which gender roles are characterized. When it comes to love among equal genders these categories manifest but from the standpoint of strength which is the value of the male realm. Passive, submissive, or any other adjectives given to the bottom are but description of how the male strength choses to emerge in a male/male relationship; the same way when we use other adjectives to characterize tops. Any word and denomination is constraining and the truth is that there are many ways to be a bottom and many ways to be a top and the fluidity of these energies are always in a state of flux.  As a rule the male strength is always present regardless of the role we play in an intimate relationship. The strength and force of a male grip either using the hand, the mouth the anus, or the phallus is still a manifestation of that universal force that permeates all of us as we engage each other’s energy within the chosen role. That is a point of departure; there can not be a top without a bottom or vice versa. It is as I said before the natural order of things. No one can denny the fact that we are relating our energies in a sexual encounter as a male to male proposition but in a different degree of intensity which makes the encounter fulfilling and meaningful. The organs involved speak to the degree of energy engaged and no one can forget the fact that there is a male exchange of energies which is mutually fulfilling when done right.

DISAPPOINTED-  There is a difference between presence and performance. When we meet in public, energy speaks louder than words, and truth has a way of revealing itself without effort. I pay attention to alignment — between actions and intentions, between spoken language and written expression, between who you present yourself to be and who you actually are. Lately, something feels off. The version of you I encounter in person does not fully match the one you portray through your writing. Words can be crafted, polished, and arranged to create an impression — but authenticity cannot be manufactured. It either exists, or it does not. Our recent meeting here in Folsom raised clear red flags for me. What I observed in person did not align with the image presented through your words. When behavior, tone, and presence do not match the story being told, it signals inconsistency — and inconsistency erodes trust. We live in a culture saturated with illusion — curated images, rehearsed personas, half-truths, and quiet deception both online and off. Masks have become normal. Pretending has become easier than being real. But I am not interested in illusions, performances, or carefully edited versions of truth. Transparency matters to me. Consistency matters. I value what is real, even when it is imperfect, over what is carefully constructed to appear a certain way. Facades are exhausting to maintain, and eventually they crack. When they do, truth stands on its own — calm, clear, and undeniable. I am direct, observant, and grounded in what is genuine. What you see is what you get. I do not perform, and I do not pretend. In a world full of filters and deception, I remain authentic — as real as you will find. Be real. I can see through what is not.

Accuse me of having no manners. If you do, OI laugh at you. I have responded to many profiles out here over the many years and 9 out of 10 don't get a reply.  I basically say hi, mention a little about me, sometimes I mention they should read my profile, I ask questions. The other 1 out of 10 that do repley, usually seem to continue a back and forth in exchanging messages but whemn I bring up maybe meeting sometime or doing a chat online or something more interactive than sending the equivalent of email messages, people go silent. FRAUDS! That what this place chuck full of. I doubt anybody meets anyone anymore from this site in person. It is all fun and games and killing time and not being serious about meeting anyone. .

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'd also like to add that when I'm not in a tpe relationship and I'm just looking to play with someone for fun, most of this list doesn't matter. That just gets down to simple negotiation about what you want to do and what your safe words are. My list of qualities are for relationships only. As a submissive, you have every right to make a list of qualities that you're looking for in a dominant. If they don't fit what you're looking for, no matter how attractive or engaging they are, you need to keep looking. It's worth it to find what you need.   There are plenty of people out there who will be a good fit. There's nothing wrong with being picky and getting what you want.

I am so lucky to belong to my wife! Last time that she invited me to have sex she handed me my favorite plug, a medium size latex spade that is very comfortable. She pulled out her lash but unfortunately she did not hit me hard with it. As always i had to lick her pussy for a while, using my finger to caress the vagina simultaneously to licking the clitoris. When she had enough i inserted my dick very gently and started the usual program, that is inserting only the cock 8 times and deeper the 9th. Repeat for a few minutes while licking her tits. She loves that , and i love to please her. I d love to be tortured during sex but that is too exciting for me and makes me cum too fast to please her well. After the cock thing, she was already ready to cum so she came on top. I always must grab her breast with my both hands and lick her tits while she rides me. I love it when she tells me "lick, doggy". Again, i must admit that it is bad to please me as i could not control my cum any further.  I was already enjoying so much witnessing her pleasure and feeling that nice plug in my butt. I m so kinky... then she came to her orgasm sqeezing my tits between her fingers and i was able to cum in her pussy after that. I always have to hurry to unload before she turns me away. I love her so much. Too bad she does not take me yet a gull slave. I love her so much. Married for 5 years. Know her for 14 years. Oh darling please take me at your service. I'd love so much thst you rape me again like the time when you fucked me with that big strapon and you pissed in my mouth and shouted "swallow"! I know it will be though but i cant stop thinking about that. Rape me again, please let me show you what i am ready to do , please break me and help to improve and become how you want me.

Ann's Deep Rub Facial The following is part of a much longer story I have written. I will not be presenting it here as much of it would not pass censorship. TEST ONE At the back door there was a note “I am in the study. Make me black tea and bring it, with cream, to me.” My face flushed with excitement. I made the tea and took it to the study. I stood there, in my short little pleated cheer leading skirt and sweater, looking for a place to set down the tea and condiments. MRS. MARQUIS, who was reading, did not bother to look up. After a while she indicated the little table near her. I moved the little box aside and sat the tray down. MRS. MARQUIS appraised what I had done and commented that it would take a while to train me properly. While I remained standing she indicated I should pour her tea with an impatient gesture of her hand. Then she added cream to her tea and then stared rather contemplatively at my chest. After a while she spoke. “Are you ready for another test?” I answered in the affirmative. “You will go to the hall closet and bring me one of the pairs of riding gloves you find there. Make sure it is the oldest most beat up of the lot.” There was riding equipment in the closet. Including riding boots, crops and a couple buggy whips. The gloves were laid out on a rack. It took just a second to find a pair that was a little scuffed. All the others looked new. I returned to MRS. MARQUIS. I offered her the gloves. “Put them on me, stupid.” It was very strange to put gloves on another persons hand so I fumbled around a bit. “Don’t you think it would be easier if you knelt?” “Yes of course,” I said as I sank to my knees. “You are not very good as a supplicant. But then you have had no training. Would you like to learn more about yourself and service?” “Yes” I was stammering again. “Well we shall begin. You have offered, yesterday, to endure discomfort for my pleasure. What would please me now would be to slap that insipid face of yours. Put your hands behind your back Grab opposite fore arms. Arch your chest forward. Hold your face up. Very good. Now I will slap your face from side to side, by the way, you should know that I am using old gloves because you are not worthy of the new ones. I would not want to scuff a good glove on your face. You will return your face to a forward looking position quickly after each slap. Are you ready?” I stammered a “yes”. “Good.” My face stung furiously after just the first slap. But I brought it back to the ordered position. “Quicker” was the order. Again the slap. I learned to keep my mouth shut when my teeth cut the inside of my mouth. I returned my face to the requisite position, only to learn that I was not fast enough. I got quicker, in spite of the pain, so quick that she could swing as fast as she wanted. My eyes red from tears. But before I lost clear vision I could see the look of extreme pleasure on her face. This slapping continued for what seemed an eternity.When she stopped my ears were wringing and my vision red. My face felt like it was covered with Deep Heat Rub. I was sobbing. She pulled me to her. Close to her. As I knelt, she pulled my face to hers and kissed me gently on the lips. Later she put my face to her breast. I knew my tears were leaving dark spots on the garment she wore. “There, there my little bitch it is not so bad now. Is it?”

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