1. In your first message don't say something like. " Hi how are you doing?" and that is your only message/words.  I won't even answer that. Be more upfront.  2. Please understand here is what I am NOT looking for    A. Not looking for someone that is married   B. Not looking for a weekend here and there   C. Not looking for someone that drinks, smokes and addicted        to drugs. (herb is ok)   D. Not looking to change your diapers   E. Not looking for attention seekers or someone high           maintance   F. Not looking for someone that is new and looking for     someone to train it (unless your ready to go full in)    G. I'm not a Pro and I'm not looking to play games.   H. Not looking for someone that isn't willing to better themselves   I. In general I'm not looking for a city person that is afraid to get dirty.    J. I'm not " needy " I'm more interested in finding a service slave/sub.   K. I'm not interested in seeing your ass pictures.  I'll probably add more to this list later. But HOPEFULLY you read this and don't bother writing if ...your not what I'm looking for. I try to make things simple and to the point.  p.s. I'M NOT LOOKING FOR A DOM.  I PROMISE YOU I WILL NEVER BE YOUR SUB OR SLAVE. I'm not an egotistic person and I do my share of what needs to be done around here. I  believe in harmony. 

Tears Wow… this is such a loaded word for me.  I have such a love hate relationship with these suckers… I am reluctant to even write on the topic.  For starters, being someone who gets migraines, a good solid set of tears, that leads to solid congestion can lead to a migraine, so over all I typically avoid tears if I can help it and I don’t need them.   My brain seems to produce these things at all the wrong times sometimes.  If am super angry… Tears.  Super happy in a nostalgic way… Tears. Super empathetic for someone… Tears. What the heck is with all these tears??? When they come during these high emotion times, I have zero control over them and their timing sucks!  If I don’t’ shut down the emotion can’t shut down the tears that come with it!  Going silent and withdrawing is often the only way to stop them.  This doesn’t help when I am furious and want to be screaming at someone. This doesn’t help when I am trying to watch a wedding.  This really doesn’t help when trying to counsel a friend who is having a hard time.  I need to engage and be there with them! The other side of the coin… and this was to my big brother’s demise growing up… I can sometimes turn on those tears with the flip of a switch.  Not the legit sobbing my heart out stuff usually, but enough to put a pause in the conversation if I am not happy with it.  I must watch my manipulative side with this.   (I have a broken door in my house because I wanted my husband and son to quit fighting one day and turned them on so well, then ran off and locked myself in the bedroom… the two of them quit fighting with each other and came to find me and broke down the bedroom door to check on me… I never expected they would break the door!) The issue is sometime this same thing happens against my will…  I may not be happy with the conversation, but I really DO want to talk it out, and not have those stupid tears affect the outcome… and the stupid things come anyhow because I am emotional!  So frustrating!  Then in my frustration I cry more!  Then get mad that I am crying, and then I cry because I am mad that I am crying, then it seems like I am crying because of the conversation… then all is lost, I can’t have the conversation untainted, and I am just straight up pissed off at myself. None of these tears are tears that bring me emotional relief though.  In fact, they often do the opposite.  They don’t affect my submission, (unless you count my bratting and manipulating with tears, in which case it might actually be bringing me out of my submission.)  There is one type of tear that brings me emotional relief and brings me further into my submission.  Tears from pain.  They are rare though.  Super rare.  I have health issues and I have (well controlled, without the use of narcotics) chronic pain, and medical professionals have put me through hell and back with some of the things they have done to me.  I get cluster headaches occasionally, some of the worst pain on the planet. (Imagine a brain freeze that lasts for 3 hours).  I simply don’t cry from pure pain.  Now, my eyes will water from it, like when your thumb is hit with a hammer, but it is just that, eyes watering, no redness, no sniffling, no sobs or bawling.  Sometimes though, I need to cry.  I need emotional release, and I need it to not be attached to anything like an argument, a friends ups and downs, an emotional event, etc.  I need my own personal release.   Where have I found this?  Complete and total submission, and I have found that in only one place… pain beyond my control.  There are lots of ways to give submission, but they are mostly all ways I still feel I control.  I can do dishes, cook meals, give physical pleasure, do penance like tasks, etc.  They are all things that I do because I am either happy to do or am willing to put up with the annoyance or interruption to my day to do.  That is really how my brain processes such things.  The emotional repentance within the brain is lacking and there certainly isn’t any call to tears over any of it. Physical punishment is different.  I don’t enjoy pain, I am not a pain slut, but there is an absolute difference to pain punishments.  There is constant thought and anticipation.  I don’t’ want to say anxiety because of the negative connotations with the word anxiety, but I don’t want anticipation to be taken as joyful excitement.  The period leading up to physical punishment.  That time between when you have done wrong, and when the punishment is administered… there is a gnawing in the back of your mind.  Driving the car, talking to your vanilla friend on the phone making lunch plans, brushing your teeth, watching TV, getting the mail.  Randomly, at any time.  It pops into your head!  You are reminded you have done wrong.  You are reminded that there will be a price to pay, and not one that will be easily dismissed.  You are reminded that with every ounce of your being, you are going to have to submit yourself to absolute unpleasantness to pay the price for your actions (or lack of actions depending on the situation).  This alone increase the emotional tie to the pain to come. When it is time for the punishment, it isn’t enough to be told to just go off on your own and do something and be done with it.  You must stand before your accuser, look them in the eye, face up to what you have done, admit your guilt, humiliation of the mind as much as the body as you bare your soul before them and present yourself to them, willing to take whatever they are going to give.  Knowing you will soon lose control over your body’s responses to the pain, jerking this way and that way, trying

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

The “Honest” secret to a truly happy life I came to this epitome recently which felt as if I found a jigsaw piece that I didn’t even know I had loss. I have always known that I do not think the same as most people but never thought about why. As a young kid I was exposed to motivational speakers and realized that the affirmations, meditation and even the music I listened to affected my mood. I grew up confident in my abilities and became a natural leader but never questioned why. I watched an interview where the topic of honesty and lying came up. The interview prompted me to research the physical and mental effects of lying and I was surprised. What resulted caused me to self-evaluate my some of my deepest personality traits. I felt as if I had been bumping into things in a dark room my whole life without even knowing it and a light was turned on. Nothing in my life is any different today but I can now clearly see how being completely honest has had a major impact in my life. It has affected me physically, mentally in amazing ways that I had not considered until now. When I was successful at something I took credit and if I failed, I accepted the responsibility. There were no participation trophies, if I screwed up I learned to accept the consequences. As a result, I develop strong mental and social connections with those close to me because people inherently understood that I had integrity and they could trust me. While still in high school I recognized that most of my peers were interested in sex but few knew anything about it. I was experienced which high school girls found very attractive so I took advantage of it. As an athlete I used affirmations that I was going to be successful it was uplifting and positive. My success with girls gave me confidence and it became self-fulfilling the more experience I gained the more they were interested in me. Self-deception shapes our reality, influencing choices and beliefs both negatively and positively. Many types of ‘lying’ also involve self-deception, in Aesop's fable "The Fox and the Grapes". The fox in the end, gives up and walks away, saying the grapes weren't that good anyway. The fox demonstrates how self-deception can be useful for avoiding the discomfort of unmet desires. When I was not successful with a girl, I would chalk it up to it was her loss not mine. It was because of that attitude that I never let failure slow me down. I have shared a story many times that, I honestly thought everyone was having sex when I was in high school because I was. Several years after high school I met a friend and we talked about the girls we dated. I was amazed that he never had sex with any of them, he was a virgin until he was in college. I screwed every girl I dated, if fact I flat out told them if I was going to go out and spend money on them, I would require at least a blow job. A few were offended but most were intrigued some even enough to pay for the date. That story always meant something to me because all of my guy friends were talking about getting laid but come to find out they were all full of shit. It has proven to reinforce my confidence and success with women. It turns out that studies have shown, those who believe lying will give them monetary or social recognition are more likely to continue being dishonest. Those who tend to be insecure or have an anxious, avoidant or attachment issues are more likely to be dishonest to avoid being criticized, rejected. Lying affects self-esteem, emotions and can lead to psychological consequences. Dishonesty puts the brain in a state of heightened alert, and this stress increases with the magnitude of the lie. There are very real symptoms of anxiety like increased respiratory and heart rates, sweating, dry mouth. That is how a lie detector works it measures your anxiety but there is a reason it does not work on everyone and I will get to that. The gut-brain axis refers to the two-way communication between the two systems, and explains why people describe feeling butterflies in their stomach under extreme stress. Research has shown the act of lying stimulates the neocortex, limbic system the temporal lobe and other areas of the brain. When we deceive someone the Amygdala, the part of the brain that regulates emotion, is activated, and we tend to feel shame or guilt. Brain imaging experiments have shown the limbic system in a dishonest brain lighting up like a fireworks display. Unfortunately, they also show that the brain can adapt to dishonest behavior. Studies have found that habitual lying can desensitize our amygdala and may even encourage people to tell bigger lies to get the same rush in the future. Those that lie all the time about little things tend to pass a lie detector because their body does not respond normally. A 2002 study performed found that 60 percent of people lied at least once during a 10-minute conversation, telling an average of two to three lies. A 2010 study have shown that the average American tells one to two lies a day. Many people find deception essential for survival and social interaction to avoid hurting someone’s feelings. I will do my best to avoid confrontations and avoid topics where I anticipate difficulties but I will not lie to protect feelings or keep someone’s secret. I have always told people, do not lie to protect me because I will tell the truth no matter the consequences and you will get burned. At least to me being honest about everything is not a moral choice, I just find it a lot less stressful. If you have nothing to hide, there is nothing be worry about. If you fuck something up own it and get past it. The facts prove that I am right, if you are in a small group you have to keep track of what you told each person so not to create a confusion. A liar has to steer conversations to avoid tripping over lies which will create the need for more lies or blend, bend lies to make the fit. I am sure that some enjoy the mental gymnastics and get a rush out of deceiving people and they become pathological liars. For most, it just creates anxiety, depression, high blood pressure and all kinds of other stresses. I take the time each day to appreciate what I have achieved. I try to meditate, say affirmations, practice yoga in order to center myself. Life is good…. I have always known I look at life different than most people but never questioned why. I now have a better understanding why a lot of women I correspond with eventually ghost me. My actual life is their fantasy world and they either assume that I am lying. When it becomes clear that I am serious it can scare the shit out of them. I have found that when faced with everything they say they want, their reality kicks them in the ass. They have family obligations, children, career or other considerations that will prevent them from leaving the world they know. In the end they are just looking for a masturbation partner. There a few adventurous enough, that when provided an opportunity to recreate their life, step out of their comfort zone and make the changes necessary to make their fantasies come true. Choosing to live your life before it is too late can be scary. Imagine your life six months from now not having to worry about going to work, paying rent or other bills and everything you need like food, clothing, shelter is provided. The perfect 1950’s homemaker that spends her time taking care of the Master of the home. I have been active in the kink community for my entire life and can make fantasies come true. I won a successful business, multiple vehicles, my home, a bar that hosts monthly BDSM lifestyle events and have organized the Key West kink community for over ten years. I now realize that when I share my reality, the truth about what I have accomplished and what I have to offer it sounds like a lie. Nothing in my life is any different today and I do not know what I am going to do with, this new found understanding of what makes me who I am. I guess the funniest thing is, when I am not successful with a potential slave it is truly her loss not mine. If anyone who knows me wants to comment on what I have written, please feel free. I would appreciate any feedback.  

  The BDSM lifestyle is often thought of as painful play and humiliation.  Bruises and degradation.  Is the kink lifestyle all pain and shame?  Is there more to discover……  

  New Year After a brief discussion this morning we have agreed on a few things to try and get the most out of 2023. wearing my daily collar more often (as permitted by job, etc) more butt plugs less underwear more outfits with access when home more use of the belt more opportunities for us to explore with others Happy New Year!

I'm reading this book on habits. There's a little bit of the science, but mostly it's anecdotal moments of famous and not so famous people and how one small change created an avalanche of positive changes. Sometimes just within themselves, sometimes branching out to entire companies. It's fascinating. As I'm expected to, I'm mining the nuggets and looking at how they fit into my life. A lot of times an easy answer to why you do or don't do something is I don't know. Maybe you don't know, even when consciously thinking about it. And then you're listening to someone else's story and it comes to you, THAT'S why you do the thing! Or you already knew the thing but hadn't figured out the alternative better habit, like replacing junk food with a bowl of apples so when you need something quick and lazy it's the better option. I know I'm going to forget more than I remember, but right now its helping me to piece together the reasons why I fall back into certain habits and how to move beyond the comfortable to solidify the new, better ones. Not today, of course. Today was a shit show. But it's a plan for tomorrow. Progress. 

What I am looking for in a new partner? I identify as a Master who lives for consensual TPE M/s dynamics. I have been in the lifestyle for over 20 years. I am not a switch! I have experience in a lot of BDSM and SM practices and what I do not know I love to learn. Here is some information about me that you may need to know first before you decide if I am the one you wish to serve. If I sound particular and demanding-like, that’s because I kind of am. I don’t need quantity. I desire quality. I want one or two of the good ones; one with a whole actual, entire, functional, language-enabled brain who knows how to use it. One with a bit of passion and integrity about him. Anything worth having is worth the work and effort to make it happen. Building trust takes communication and continuous effort. It is something you must work at to keep and it is also one of the hardest things to regain once lost. That level of complete trust is what makes Master/slave dynamics work. But trust is needed on both sides. The Master has to trust the slave just as much as the slave has to trust the Master. Ok.. so here is what you need to know about Me: My preferred terms of address are MsPebbles or Ma’am. Anything else is not acceptable until you have earned it. I am a married cis woman with one child still living at home. I also have relationships with others. You need to be ok with not being the only person in my life. I am demisexual,demiromantic, and bisexual. I am a non-smoker, a social drinker and a lover of wine. My hard limits are sissification, age play, humiliation, degradation, scat, brat taming, race play, extreme breath play, death fantasy and bull/bbc culture. I will add to the list as I find things that I will not do. What I need in a dynamic is communication, honesty, transparency, respect, loyalty, effort, consistency, and service. Someone who enjoys pain is a plus but so is someone willing to explore new things. I am not just dominant in the bedroom. Having sex with me is not a guarentee for you. So if you think this is going to be just kinky sex with a woman in charge, please move along, we are not looking for the same thing. I am a compassionate, friendly, happy, relatively “normal” human who seeks compassionate, friendly, happy, and relatively normal men or women. What I mean by this is, while I am dominant and seek true power exchange with the right man or woman I also seek cuddles, conversations and yes I am going to say it … INTIMACY. G I know right? As a Dom I like control, A lot of it. Shocking right? I love s-types who are naturally and deeply submissive and who desire to give themselves freely and fully to me on My terms. I am looking for a sub/slave who is willing not just to get down on his knees, but also to be emotionally real with me. This involves communicating clearly about your emotions and who you are and what you need, not necessarily about all that you want. I want to dominate a mind and a soul, not just a body. Enough about me (I know, rare words indeed from a dominant). Let's turn the spotlight on you. What is it that I look for in a potential slave?

For more information see profile under same name...   Update:   Mother on month 7 of sleep therapy.  Yes it makes ALL THE DIFFERENCE.  Meanwhile, I'm navigating a new normal.  Some days you just need to 'smile and wave', put in the induction earphones and carry on... I can always tell when something AMAZING is around the corner.  There is always that s q u e e z e just before.  This is a big s q u e e z e so I know it is going to be GREAT!  Looking forward to My minions coming lol  If this time has taught Me anything it is laugh cry do what you have to do and take no prisoners.  Never more true were the words than -to thine own self be true.  It's all you have at the end of the day and if you are really super lucky, you may have some company along the way.  Needless to say the squeeze in this life is just about choking the every living life out of Me.  With God leading the way, I follow the light fully armed. On a personal front I continue to be grateful for those who share their path with Me.  Each of Us is learning and growing in our understanding of ourselves and one another.  Layiing the foundation for the time to come has been invaluable and all of us are looking foward to what will be. In the meantime and until such time as the house is full, I am seeking and have availability to share in conversation after dinner most nights.

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  

So, here's the deal: I'm 62, I have finally found comfort in my shell... I need a PERMENANT Mistress who is going to be BRUTAL with me, use me and abuse me, dehumnanize me, heavy CBT, bondage, caging/kenneling, toilet (full sometimes), outside bondage, predicament bondage, ashtray slave, spit slave, eating the dead skin scrapings from your lovely and delicious FEET, and yes, your small toenail clippings which I'll consume. I'm REAL, ladies and I need this. I love being in a cage/kennel. I'm not here to waste yours or my time. I'm here to be your slut/pig/whore/toilet/whatever you want. I DO NOT CARE. I get tribute so, yeah, not a problem but NOT before, please. I'm old school and will do that when I come for my 2+ hours therapy session. I take my servitude seriously and my slavery seriously. This is the life I've chosen. Women are POWERFUL and are to be OBEYED. Men don't get that. I do... Women are superior to men in every way. Women abuse/use me as they wish. This is the way. I believe it. I live it. I know it. I shave all the hair off my body save for my lower arms and head.  I wear pantyhose or stockings and panties (all the time).  I love the body I'm in and how I'm used/abused. I seek to have a mistress experiment on me, try new things and enjoy our time together. Please, I beg all Mistresses to consider this slut for her enjoyment. I will travel to you. Warmly and humbly, slave selene (my female name)

Desire   I lay in bed reading. My mind lost in the ecru pages with its black ink scrawled across. I was thoroughly enjoying my book when I felt a hand on my left foot. I looked up and at the foot of the bed he stood, looking at my legs, finger tips grazing my toes and tracing them to my foot and then my ankle.    I cleared my throat and he looked up at me, sheepish grin on his cute little mouth. He appeared to be waiting, perhaps asking for permission.  I sighed, pretending to be annoyed, and said, "fine, my sweet boy, you may" and I lifted my foot to his face.  "Thank you, Empress." He cooed as he began first to inhale and then kiss my foot.   "Don't start anything you don't intend to finish, puppy" I said as I returned to my book. Trying to focus on the words as his tongue lathed each little digit, tickled the arch of my foot, lapped at my heel, was difficult. I curled and uncurled my toes at the sensations that tickled its way up to the juncture where my thigh met my panties.    I peeked at him over the book. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavy. A bulge existed in his sweatpants. I may have moaned under my breath and at that he began to rub my calf muscle, massaging me. He must have been in a mood. Anticipating one another's desires hadn't always been easy but it seemed today he wanted to touch and be denied.    He was supposed to fetch his cage when he was in this mood otherwise he was left free. I enjoyed most to tease and play when he had access but couldn't find release without permission. I liked feeling it against me and saying no to it.    "My love?" I said with an imploring tone   He opened his pretty eyes, hazel green with flecks of gold, and stopped moving but kept my toes in his mouth as he said, "yes, Empress?".    "Are you wearing your cage?"   He released my leg and toes and pulled his sweat pants down to reveal that he was locked up in his cage. His cheeks warmed, maybe I made a face of appreciation. Now that he was in it he'd have to beg to be out of it. As he went to pull up his pants I stopped him with my right foot. Pressing my toes into the cage and pushing it up into his body. He opened his legs to give me more room as he reached for the foot he'd forfeited. "Did I give you permission to lock away my property?"   "No, Ma'am, sorry Ma'am." He said with his cheeks flushed.    I was no longer trying to read and I maintained uncomfortably long eye contact before nodding at him to resume his current task. I returned to my book but could only look at the words swimming across the page.  They were like nonsense to my brain as my other senses were being over powered by the pleasure of my love's service.  As he began to rub my leg harder and kiss my foot with more passion I suddenly kicked him away. Loving the look on his face at my sudden rejection.  I crossed my legs and pretended to read as he stood waiting. A whimper escaped his throat, truly a puppy, and I laughed.   This game was a favorite of mine.    If he wanted anything he'd have to ask, beg, crawl and suffer for it.   "Please..." he said.  I pretended not to hear an incomplete sentence, waiting, my heart racing and my pussy growing wetter. I crossed my legs again and the little bells on the anklet on my right ankle made a beautiful sound. I curled and flexed the toes on that foot, encircled by two rings, knowing I had his attention.    He cleared his throat. "Please, Empress, may I touch you, your feet?"   "Hmmm, no" I turned the pages of the book that I hadn't been reading. I made a mental note to memorize the page I could last remember. What I wanted was to ravage my boy. Make him cry. Shove my toes into his mouth even if it was too far and he gagged. I needed the tears now.    "Kneel", I said softly as I looked at the pages of the book in my hands.  "If you want anything you'll have to bleed for it, fetch the toys."    He crawled and carefully brought back a bag of equipment from the hall closet. Belts used to bind him, rope, tape, hoods, gags, and a cattle prod.    I turned the page of my book slowly as he remained on his knees with the bag on his upright hands. Endurance would benefit him. We had grown fond of torturous tasks.    Walls squats near my chair so I can rest my feet on his knees. Bridge pose for the same reason. Back bends so I can sit comfortably on his body as I tie my shoes. Anything to put his body to the test. Kneeling with his arms out, palms up, holding the heavy bag was just the thing to amuse me. When his arms began to tremble is when I decided to close my book and focus on him entirely.    I took the bag from him and gave the rest command. He relaxed on his knees, palms up waiting to receive. His face was flush but not just from the shear pleasure of being allowed to serve or the humiliation of being an object, but also due to the arduous task, and he had begun to sweat.    "Undress." He stood to follow my command and then returned to the rest position. I slowly picked out the tools we'd need to play today.  "Are we in the mood for pain, I think so" I said out loud as if truly asking him, as if it weren't my decision to make" he remained quiet.  I took out his special hood. Custom just for him. It laced down into a neck corset. He couldn't see, or speak from within. He couldn't kiss me or be bitten on his lips.  I took out leather belts with satin affixed to the side that would touch his skin. For his legs and arms.    "Open" I commanded and he spread his legs, exposing himself straining in his cage. I could see the beating of his heart as the cage bobbed. I got down to his level and affixed two belts to his bent legs, preventing I'm from standing.    "Inspection." I commanded and he put his hands to the back of his head which prepped his arms for being equally disabled by two shorter belts on each arm.    "Now, how will you touch me without hands?" I asked. Quietly he pushed his face into my legs and rubbed against them, scooting his body closer and attempting to rub his full body on me. I pushed him off and laughed as he fell backwards with a thud.    I sat on his chest and slid the hood onto his head but couldn't lace it. I lifted onto my knees and he rotated knowingly so that I could tie him tight. Then I stood up, leaving him alone in the dark. I tiptoed and climbed quietly into bed, on my tummy, as he lay on the floor, I watched him for a long while to see what he would do.    What COULD he do? Bound as he was, I had not ever tested if he could crawl. I climbed down from the bed and tiptoed out of the room and walked back in as if I was returning from elsewhere. He jerked in the direction of my sounds, bells tinkling on my anklet, I noisily gathered a chain leash and walked to his helpless body and attached it to the ring on the collar of his special hood.    "Come, puppy." I called in my sing song voice, the very one I use for my cats. "Come on, my h

If you think I would spit on you  And call you a cunt I'm sorry but that's not what I do. I'm way more subtle , and with far more respect To be such a prick to you. I will set you rules that you will have to obey No doubt you will break at least one every day Rules on your dress, you grooming , your place On how you must act, in our private space I will cane you for punishment,long and hard Strap you  to keep you line You will beg my forgiveness , plead with remorse Bits that's all part of this design. For a man is man , head of the house The role of the woman is to serve And when each knows their role ,then both both understand Each gets all that they deserve She will get love, certainly and discipline ,  Each in appropriate measure He will have a woman , submissive and pleasing His to always treasure.   I

A few days ago I scheduled a coffee date with someone on a different kinky site. I'd accidentally sent him a "wink" when my finger slipped on his profile, which was unfortunate as he also identifies as a dominant. However, he DMed me about having submissive tendencies that he didn't mention on his profile (nothing on there about being a switch). We chatted off and on for a few days and then decided to schedule a coffee date.   He's in another city, but close enough that I wasn't too worried about his commute. He was way younger than what I was looking for, but he assured me that he wasn't worried about the age discrepancy. He wasn't commercially attractive, so I wasn't completely suspicious of his motives, but he was quite vague in direct messaging about what he was hoping for.    Having bussed over, I got there early enough to get a to-go tea and grab a table. We'd talked about getting warm beverages and going for a walk while we chatted, weather permitting. I played Pokémon Go as I waited, having multiple tasks and projects to address in the game as apparently beating Team Rocket Go Boss Giovanni wasn't enough for one day.   I experimented with ways to look up when someone came in without looking expectant. He and I had traded photos, so we pretty much knew what each other looked like. I committed to staying at least 15 minutes after our official meeting time as getting parking in that neighborhood could be tricky. We hadn't swapped phone numbers, so I checked the site periodically to see if he'd contacted me: nothing.   A PoGo raid started at 3:15pm on the dot, so I left closer to 3:25pm ... just after he sent several messages to me over the kink site about his truck giving up the ghost to the tune of $4,000 and him being so worried about it all.   Uh-huh.   It's possible that he was telling the truth and that this wasn't some really, really bad attempt at a scam. But then I remembered his reported age, the vagueness about what he was hoping for, the secret reveal that he was interested in finding a domme; and I think that maybe I dodged a bullet.   Mollena Williams-Haas once talked about gameifying putting oneself out there by awarding oneself points to being brave enough to try, pulling together the energy to be bothered, presenting oneself attractively, and - in this case - even bothering to show up. So, hey - I have more points!   And that tea was quite lovely.

I was logging in the other day when I spotted a random profile, where the owner was bragging he'd had a profile on here for some 11 years, I nearly said something to him as to however long you've had a profile on here doesn't make you a better Dom, anyway my seventeen years trumps his eleven. I'm sixty five in a few day's time, the first thought that enters my mind most mornings is "How the hell did that happen"I've spent many years looking for my miss right I guess if I've not found her by now the chances are I'm not going too. I spent far too many years fighting to stay alive I guess I just missed out on life, but I can't say I've been unhappy I've just never really known the joy of finding a partner, there was a few attempts but nothing that lasted for long, I did have a live in sub for a few years but she turned out to be violent and on one occasion managed to put me in hospital. It's said what one has never had one will never miss, I really don't know how true that is.

Who am I? Well that is an interesting question. I am myself. I am who I am. I have learned you can not change who you to make others happy. You have to be yourself and you will be happy and so will others. IF they do not like you then they are not friends. I have been told that I can not be a Mistress because I am quiet and shy. Well guess again! I am very much a Mistress and very much shy and quiet. I just am that way when I first meet people. I have always been a quiet shy person at first but then my bossy side can come out. I have worked hard to reign that side in unless I am with my partner. I am a very loving and affectionate person. I love to just come up and kiss who ever I am with, hold hands, or even just wrap my arms around them. I do not mind if they do the same to me. So on that note, I am a very shy person when you first meet me. I will be until I'm comfortable with you. That may take an hour or may take weeks, but once I am comfortable you will see the my goofy quirky spazzy side. Though when pissed off you do not want to be in my way. And now for the kink sideI'm a Mistress looking for someone to add to her family. I'm sweet, loving caring Mistress that gets to know her subs/slaves so I know how to interact with them. I learn what they like and dislike and go from there. To me this lifestyle isn't just about playing around, its about building a relationship with the other person, about building trust. So I mix my 'vanilla' side with my 'kink' side. Because they are the same person just different aspaspects of me. How can you get to know someone if you do not know every side of them?

 YourEnabler