People ask me how I met my owners with all the fakes and players who are online. The following is my story. So you know, Master James had a massive stroked and passed away this year. The details are in my journal.Now, before we start, I am happily ownedI searched here and ALTcom for five years finding fakes, etc A friend of my was an INSEX model in those bdsm videos She told me to check out DomConDomCon is a twice annual BDSM convention The cities vary from year to yearAnyway, I went to the one in Atlanta and was looking around Fakes and liars dont seem to go to real conventionsAnyway, I was a single woman trying to get a table at a crowded restaurant at a huge convention Simply put, they didnt want to seat a single when they were turning tables of two or more A couple who had been in line behind me came to the hostess desk and changed their request to three people The lady smiled and asked me to join themGreat dinner, great conversation Three weeks later I sold all of my possessions in Vail, Colorado and moved to serve them in VermontWe have been happily living as Master Mistress slave and last November fifth was our eleventh anniversary as Master Mistress and slaveSo, keep the faith and consider going to a real convention You will be amazed at how many real people there actually areBest to you in your search,slave janet

A submissive is one who chooses each and every time if he /she will submit.  A submissive often comes with a list of his / her restrictions and requirements.  While a true slave is one who comes to serve in the manner in which the Mistress desires. A true slave makes the decision to submit one time for always.  A true slave may have desires, dreams,  and  fantasies but he / she is not selfish and he / she relinquish their selfishness to serve the Dominant.   It takes a very strong person to live the life of being a slave to another.  To observe a slave growing and one day to see him /her become the perfected specimen  in which the Domme  has created is the goal. The submission of a slave is very admirable.  I seek that slave! The one who will serve Me always, under My safe keeping, and owned  by Me.   

Master's WritingsStruggles of a Sapiosexual/Demisexual in a Hyper-Sexual WorldAs I have matured thru the years, it's now clear that without finding someone mentally, and emotionally attractive, it all just feels somehow incomplete. Without some connection to a real person with a genuine personality, they can be pretty and sexy, but . . . It really doesn't do it for me.And here in lies the problem.In today's hyper-sexual, transactional and instant-gratification society, how does someone like me, take the time to connect with another before the tug of physical exceptions frustrate the individual and kill the tempo.Yeah, I know. Its easy to say, I'm just not finding the right people who are also Sapiosexual/Demisexual, but we all know everyone is comprised of shades of grey and even those who lean in that direction feel the pressure of the "quick-fix".Not sure what to actually do about it, other than to continue to be clear up front about who I am, what my needs are during the "approach" and look harder for alignment with the individuals I talk with.But it is still frustrating.

People are vastly different. So to find a single needle in 100 haystacks is seemingly an impossible feat.   Be yourself and be completely open and honest. Don't ever lie in order to find what your looking for because the lie will eventually come to the surface. .   In my opinion to be dominate is not to act or be mean to someone. It's not to hate or belittle in order to get someone to do what you want them to do.   Being self assured and dominate means to take care of and pass on knowledge.  To take someone and fulfill their lives and make them useful.    We all have a role to play in this universe. When your happy and content that means your exactly where you should be  and doing what you should be doing at that moment. So many people are on here searching ... searching but never finding or not really knowing what they are looking for. ( I'm a dom, no wait I'm a sub, no wait I'm a switch...wait wait maybe I'm a dom slave lesbian male )  When I talk about giving yourself up completely you should only ONLY do that to someone you trust and know that they have your best intention at heart. I'm not talking about a romantic relationship , that is silly to think that would happen that way over the internet. It's unrealistic and delusional .   I'm only talking to those that are looking to be owned and cared for. In turn you need to think about what you would give up to get that.

No one stays around for long. This is the famous words, I hear:                             "I don't think I can relocate after all, have lived here all my life"                           "I need some space to clear my head, it's not you, I am just so confused"                   "I can't get you out of my head, I tried by not talking to you and it just made me want to talk to you more, I just want to be with you, but I am so confused," And in all of this?? "It's NOT you!"   What else am I suppose to think?                      BOYS have your ducks in a row, BEFORE a Mistress spends time directing you, with her words and stories, to begin the molding of your spirit to her will.                              That is just a small example of what I have gotten. This is also why a Mistress usually talks to several  boys at the same time.

I've been asked a lot about being poly and I thought I'd make a note here about it. I am polyamorous. I believe in multiple loves, multiple relationships, communication, trust and respect for everyone involved. I currently have my own submissive whom I've been with for 7 years and a vanilla boyfriend I've been with for two. They both live with me. They date seperately and neither of them expects to be included in my exploits (IE we DON'T DO threesomes)  We practice a "kitchen table" type polyamory where we have this cozy, happy little household where everyone gets along with everyone else. We often invite our partners and dates over for little wrestling parties (we're all huge WWE and AEW fans) and Cards Against Humanity.  I love being poly. I have so much to give.  If you have any questions and would like me answer them here in my journal please feel free to write me.  your girl joy

Well its a different thing now for therapy and to make better quality bondage gear again with a guarantee that no store or fetish maker Gives. As alot dont stand by there workmanship as it is a skilled craftsmans that if it makes quality gear of the best leather and hardware it should out last your slave or submissive. If it doesnt it has failed. So it guarantees to always replace free of charge restraints and other bondage gear it makes. It see so many out there making quality bondage gear and charging ridiculous prices. It wanted a Pony Harness and the price was Ridiculous $1500. It has to laugh. Well, the 2nd order of it Leather working tools have arrived from Amazon. Give it the third time in it life Rebuilding its Leather making workshop. And in the next fortnight, got a third order that has to go in. And that should see it. Build the tools and the workshop that it needs to start making. What It needs And wants And to rebuild it inventory. it uses the highest grade harness US latigo leather as used in the Saddle and Harness industry on the market and heavy metal hardware, Post screw rivets and with reinforced with leather sewing machine for extra strength for secure durablity.

just noticed they finally brought journals back, so I thought I would take advantage... What is your purpose of being online?  Mine is simple, to get to know others in the lifestyle, to see if any can not only meet my expectations of as ub slave but also understand how they can fit in my busy life. If I need to invest MY time into fulfilling your online fantasies, then I am simply not getting anything of value out of speaking with you.  it is one thing to discuss limits and interests, to gauge compatibility,  it is another to feed your fantasy with no return for my pleasure... at least that is not for me.   Still think you're here for the same reasons as myself?  Great, but here's the thing, would you walk into a job interview unprepared? Similarly,  why approach a Domme if you are not prepared... mentally or physically. I don't expect much from those who message me, atleast not in the beginning, but I do expect you to know why you are here, that you are prepared to speak, with the hopes of serving, and that you are honest and forthcoming, not just with Me, but with yourself. So, why are you here?

To the asshole who called me a royal bitch then blocked me so I could not reapond... I know you'll see this. I can see that you are still looking at my page. My response: "And you seem like a judgemental prick who puts no effort into a conversation. You just make assumptions, poorly apologize, somehow expect me to be super interested by or attracted to that behavior and fawn all over you, then hurl insults. Whatever." Background info for others:  I didn't respond to his lazy messaging fast enough so he accused me of ghosting in less than 3 hours on a weekday afternoon. I said I was busy and pointed out that most people have things to do on a weekday in the early afternoon. Then I asked him to be more thoughtful and considerate before talking to people. He said "sorry miss". The next message from him was insults, combined with blocking me so he can continue to live in a fantasy world were that behavior is okay.    To everyone looking to make connections. Be thoughtful with your communication.

A lot of people don't realize who they are. Like my neighbor, who says she doesn't want to gossip, I suspect because it's frowned upon, and yet can't wait to get juicy details that are none of her business. She sticks her nose in where it isn't needed all over the damn place. I don't think she realizes how much she thrives on it. She definitely doesn't use it to her advantage in a field where it could be useful.  Or my pain in the ass direct boss, who loves authority, who has to be right, who treats women as slightly to moderately inferior depending on the situation. He's insensitive. He's loud. And he doesn't seem to give one single shit what anybody thinks. This man has no idea that people don't want to deal with him, men or women. That at least a handful of good people have left because of him.  I think a lot about who I am and how it is portrayed. What sometimes comes out instead and if that's me or reactionary. Then again, most of my life has been reactionary, so maybe I don't even know who the real me is. I'm learning. I made the decision to switch careers and I am giving myself a year to do it. Research, learn, prep, etc. And just like that, I care a whole lot less about my boss because now he's temporary.  It's another moment where my life is on hold, but it isn't. This time I'm like a duck swimming; serene above water, paddling like crazy below. I think I'm moving in the right direction in figuring out who I am and where I want to be. It begins. 

I do best at being a Domme with minimal toys at hand.  I don’t need a fully stocked dungeon to have a great time with a sub. (not that there is anything wrong with a fully stocked dungeon) but to me it is more the mental control I exercise over you. The way I approach you, look at and maybe don’t let you have eye contact with me, and the way I touch or don’t touch you, you know just being in my presence brings out your need to submit.  For example, I will say, “Did I say you could look me in the eye bitch? Until I say you can look me in the eye, you will look at my feet. Look down now.” This takes no toys and commands you.

Before you can be taught, you have to know what classes interest you to attend.  But that's not submission, I hear you ignorantly complain. No, but most of you don't understand the difference between being submissive and being A submissive. Most of you try and convince the world you are the latter whereas you are barely the former.  Nosce te ipsum, is the first order of any day. Youre not qualified to know anyone else before you get to know yourself. Life becomes a series of dead-ends and u-turns unless you know where youre heading. Understand this - there is nothing wrong with not knowing, there is nothing wrong with asking and there is glory and purpose is learning. Act accordingly, before that laundry list of expectations and demands that you carry becomes nothing more than a shield against actually experiencing anything. And to those desparing of finding their place and purpose, remember that when you're falling out of the tree, any branch you can grab before hitting the ground is a blessing and should be appreciated. Even if it's not where you want to be, its better than the thud at the end of a drop. There is precious little enough joy in this world these days that any of us should spurn the chance to feel some when the possibility presents itself. Here endeth the lesson.

How Manipulation Begins I had begun conversing with a gent a few days ago. He asked me how my night was or some conversation starter.  I dont typically respond to  emails with no photos, but thought I'd take a chance (in other words, I thought it was safe to let my guard down.)  It was midnight and I was getting  ready for bed.  He stated he wanted to continue chatting , at a later date.  I sent him my Google number if he wanted to text freely.  🚩I didn't receive a goodnight text, which automatically let me know he's a ghost. He's clearly scamming or cheating.   In his response, he states wants to get to know me.  However, he wants to "spoon til morning--that's creating s false sense of intimacy. This is why you need to pay attention, regardless of gender.    His follow-up was just as manipulative.   He didnt apologize for sending mixed signals,  nor did he take responsibility for the confusion.    Be Safe Out There!   I was not ignoring you my dear beautiful Miss, I was search for my archives of pictures so I could share another one with you. Thank you for your number I hope you don’t mind but given the vulnerability I feel in sharing pictures can we keep the correspondence here until and longer friendship is formed. I hope you don’t mind this. And of course I was always going to say goodnight sweet Miss. How much I would love to change now into something satiny and spoon you till morning  

  The silken ropes, a web both soft and tight, Secure your limbs in the fading light. You offer trust, a fragile, sacred thing, Awaiting the pleasure your queen will bring.   Her eyes hold fire, her smile is sharp and keen, The most intoxicating sight you've seen. She moves with purpose, confident and slow, And from a drawer, her chosen tools will grow.   The harness waits, of polished midnight black, And as she lifts it, there is no turning back. The leather sings a low and throaty sound, As she first wraps the straps securely 'round.   A deeper creak as she pulls the harness tight, A groan of leather, bending to her might. The sharp-edged click of buckle meeting tongue, The final sound before your song is sung.   It strains against her hips, a second skin, A promise of the place you've never been. The scent of leather fills the charged-up air, A musky perfume, potent and beyond compare.   She turns to you, her shadow tall and vast, This moment of surrender built to last. The silicone now cool against your heat, A strange and shocking, yet delicious, treat.   Your breath catches in a sharp, surprised gasp, As past your final, guarded line she'll pass. A world of pleasure, sharp and brand new, Unfurls inside, completely owned by you.   And in the creak of leather, in her sigh, You learn to fly, and learn to fall, and die To who you were, reborn in this new role, The willing vessel for her hungry soul.

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

"The Grimoire of Urban Flora: Sacred Sexuality, Healing, and Transformation" this has been weeks coming. i finally got to do the audio review of urban flora. not just a music review..but a review in the context of the sacred spirituality power dynamic i do. with a mindset of mermaid energy. i go over briefly the summary of the energetics of the dark goddess sophia vibe, the dark god archangel michael male energy, where i get this from and the set up of why i see alina baraz's urban flora album as a guidebook aka grimoire for women like us..who love men like this. in this nature. too keep in the mermaid theme besides explaining a summary, all of it is in audio format to continue with the water theme. while i didn't record it on a water day or water planetary hour. i am rectifying it by releasing it today mercury day during mercury hour in my time zone for extra energetic effect. you're like a wave, pulling me underneath, there's a universe inside of you, i can make you feel, can i undress you, let them wash away your pain, what's a king without a queen, chasin your pretty thoughts   https://audiomack.com/sophia-starseed/song/the-grimoire-of-urban-flora-sacred-sexuality-healing-and-transformation imagine sick ass water images because on my other social media it's there and it adds to the effect and the formatting of collarme has nerffed the message. oh well.

This is a short story i wrote a couple of years ago . . Is your life really that empty? Maybe the best words I have ever spoken Is your life really that empty? That may be the best opening line since ‘.......I was born in 1518 in the village of Glenfinnan on the shores of Loch Shiel. And I am immortal'. In truth maybe not, but these words got me here, pressing keys on my pc’s keyboard about to tell my story. A good opening line, true, although not a good place to start my tale, so, where to begin? Who I am, where I was when I first saw her or the reason I spoke those words? Maybe to ground this thing would be best, I am male, a Dom, a sadist, not rich, not powerful, slightly artistic, getting to be older than I want to be living in a small suburb of a small city in the English Midlands. It was a Tuesday, early afternoon and I was on a coach going to Nottingham to check out an art gallery to see if they would exhibit, or sell, some pieces of my work. Don’t get all excited thinking I am a master painter or sculptor selling pieces for hundreds of thousands of pounds (yes pounds and not dollars) I sell my work for between £100 – 200 if I am lucky enough to find a buyer.Anyway, I first saw the girl, woman, standing on the platform along with others, waiting for our coach to arrive and noticed her because she fell into that style of female I like, slim, simple hair style, makeup tending towards the Goth, in jeans, ankle boots and a soft leather jacket and no handbag – simple pleases me. I am a good and sadistic Dom but I am no good at talking to females I do not know in vanilla situations so I took in her images, filed it under, ‘what a shame’ and then as the coach arrived I entered and walked to the back and sat down only to find she followed and sat in the seat in front of me on the other side of the isle. As we pulled out of the station I saw her take out a book, find her place, about a third of the way through, and begin to read. To say my mental image of her was shattered would be far too extreme but I was so disappointed in her. If she was vanilla it was such a pointless thing to read and if into my ‘lifestyle’ a really sad thing to read and I didn’t know which was worse. I tried to ignore her, and the book, as the minutes ticked by.  I watched houses and trees and cars pass by before we reached the dual carriageway, connecting the two cities, and the coach built up speed. I noticed all other passengers were seated nearer the front leaving at least seven rows of empty seats between us and them and I decided this was the universe telling me to do something – the universe seldom tells me to do things in case you were wondering. I moved across the back seat until I was slightly to her left but still behind her and said in a normal speaking voice, not too loud, not too quiet, “Is your life really that empty?"I accept this could be a very insulting thing to say to anyone especially a stranger on a bus but the words formed and so were spoken. She lifted her head from the book but did not turn around, I could see her face from where I sat and her mouth turned down slightly, not in a frown but in a puzzled thoughtful way and lowering the book to her knees she said, “Why do you say that?" "I am a Dom and a sadist”, I said although not sure why I was so truthful, “I don’t usually tell people as most do not understand.” I paused waiting to see what she would do or say. "I see.” Was all she said, which didn’t give me any sort of clue or guide to what I should do or say next.  "The book does not relate to the real world of BDSM, most of us are so normal we are as boring as vanilla folk.” I saw a smile come to her face at this so continued, “It is only when we play that many of us diverge from the norm, but I suppose the same could be said of golfers or those that go tenpin bowling every week.” She laughed at this; thank god.  "How do you dominate people then, do you do it with men or woman or both?” She did not turn around as she spoke.  "Before I answer that, have you tried anything in a fetish way; are you sub or Domme or both?"  "You would certainly call me vanilla I think. Everyone is reading the book so I thought I would too.” She paused for a heartbeat and then said, “I am not sure if I would like to submit to a man, I think I might giggle too much if I had to call someone Sir or Master."  "There is much rubbish talked about BDSM, you do not need to call him Sir if that is not what you want, I have little interest in a female calling me Sir unless it comes naturally to her at a time that seems correct to use it.  "BDSM is like real life, it is not a video game, it merely has a few given rules that vary as much as any vanilla couple’s rules vary, that and blindfolds and restraints obviously"  "Something else I would not like until I trusted him enough.” She said and added “How to you write a contract?"  "I am a sadist, I like a little fear in my play, if you trusted me, or knew me too well, could you really be scared of me? I thought this was a statement too far and wondered if I was trying to sabotage this conversation. “There is even more bullshit talked about contracts.  No contract is needed by 999 out of a 1000 couples. “I say ‘do you want to play’? You answer ‘I am new to this’, I say, ‘understood’. What more needs saying?"  I watched her face, and saw a small frown crease her brow, “Remember, you have the power to stop whatever is happening by simply saying a single word, it is easier to stop what is happening in a BDSM encounter than, say, trying to get rid of some half drunk moron in a nightclub who is likely not to take no for an answer. If I do something you do not like, it ends and the play stops, it is in the skill of the Dominant one to not make you say that word."  "I don’t understand,” she said, ”if you are dominant how could I stop you doing what you want especially if I am blindfolded or tied up?"  "Blindfolded, AND tied up” I said with a smile, “I said before, BDSM is real life, if you say the stop word and the dominant one continues that is assault, or as close to it as make no difference, BDSM does not give anyone the right to, umm, go too far."  The coach stopped and two elderly couples boarded and I watch with not a little ‘fear’ as they decided where to sit, the universe was still on my side and they sat side by side 5 rows in front of the girl.  We were well passed half way to the city and I didn’t know where the girl was going, the University of Nottingham Campus would be reached in 5 minutes or so and she could easily be a student there. So as the coach moved on I said.  "It is much easier to show you, show someone I mean, what happens in BDSM play than to describe it, just like if you were going on a first date in the vanilla world you go on it and see how things progress”.  She sat for a second and then put the book back in her pocket, “Thanks for the chat but I have to get off in a couple minutes."  "Ok, I don’t usually talk like this on buses with cute females I don’t know so thank you for not running away screaming.”  I reached into my pocket and took out my business card, “I am a body piercer so I have a card, if you are bored give me a ring and maybe I can answer some more questions or, if your curiosity gets stronger, I can show you my Domly skills.” I reached forward and placed the card on her left thigh, gently pressing the card down, before taking my hand away.  She looked at it before picking it up and putting it in her pocket, so I said “I have a normal house on a normal street, although I do have a play room of sorts with some interesting things to play on and with, so if you visit you do not have to walk though a dark wood to a haunted castle."  she took this the way I hoped and laughing said, “That’s a relief, but this is my stop so bye"  "Have fun.” I said as she stood and I was very impressed, not sure why though, that as she got up and walked down the coach she didn’t look back to see who I was.  The coach stopped she got off and I thought I would not see her again and wondered if I should get off too but my commonsense won out and I sat still as we moved off. “One day I will remember to ask a females name” I said to the back of the seat in front of me and again thought ‘what a shame.'  "Good morrow.” Yes, I oft times answer the phone this way. It is Thursday at 7pm and I have been relaxing watching a video on tv.  "Hello.” A female voice replies.  A silence follows which I do not interrupt wondering if this is another recorded message asking if I want to make a personal injury claim or some other tedious drivel. “I thought reality might be better than fiction."  "Ah.” I am a sadist of few words but sometimes one has to be a little helpful, “That is easy to do, come to my home, knock on the door and then enter, all other decisions will be made for you from that point. If you wish things to stop simple say ‘Lucifer’ and I will stop whatever I am doing.  "You do like us to be scared don’t you, I thought we would be discussing what and how, not simply being told to visit."  "When you visit it will be a time of physical interactions, this will not be a time for you to serve me as a slave or for silly things like sitting at my feet waiting for permission to get up or speak."  "Ok, I just come and that’s it, you don’t want to know more about me."  "You are cute, you want to know more about submission and you called me.   That is all I need, I told you before it is for me to play without making you want, or need, to stop me; so all will be found out when you are here."  "When can I come and should I wear something specific?"  "What an entertaining fem you are, if free tonight come at 9 pm or come tomorrow at the same hour. As for clothes, if you wish to please then, as I am a male; heels, hold ups or stockings or bare legs, a thong, g-spring or nothing. Short skirt, not denim (hate denim), shirt with buttons and a skimpy bra or no bra, a coat may be wise as it is somewhat cold out."  "You sound like you have said that before, I will see what I can do and tonight would be best in case I chicken out tomorrow."  I gave her my address and added, “For your safety, and to make you feel a little more relaxed, tell your best friend you are visiting me, say about piercing if that is easier, and tell them you will call when you arrive here too. You will be safe here but it is a wise thing to be careful."  "I will see you tonight then, what should I call you."  "I will be waiting, and for tonight you can call me Demon.” I clicked the end call icon on my mobile and laughed out loud, maybe not such a waste after all.  I never plan what I am going to do with a sub, that way leads to disappointment more times than not, so I sat and watched my video till a suitable time came for me to stop it. I have a small pack of dogs so I sent all of them to their beds and went upstairs to change.  I checked to see that my playroom was ready and laid out my toys on a rack then, with 30minutes to go, had a quick shower and dressed in my Domly garb.  I decided to start the evening off on a high pressure moment, to see how she reacted, so dressed in leather trousers, knee length New Rock boots, vest and full length leather coat, all in black, obviously. To complete the attire I had recently made some leather gloves and a full hood, both with spikes and piercings, and these I put on before going downstairs.  I have a hallway leading from my front door to my kitchen with a turn to the right half way down leading to my staircase. At five to nine I turned out the light in the hall, darkness fell, I turned on the kitchen light, closing the door so only a thin sliver of light could be seen, and bought to life my cd player to beginning playing Metallica’s Black album.  I stood silently at the foot of my stairs, a still, dark shadow in the darkness, calmly wondering if she would come or not.  What a good girl she was, just after the 2nd track, ‘Sad But True’, began there as a double tap on the door.  I clenched my fists as a smile, which could not be stopped, came to my lips when the door opened and closed.  I have a tiled floor and her heels, clicked nicely five times before she appeared looking ahead towards the light in front of her.  I stepped quickly forward making a short, high pitched hiss to encourage her to turn a little towards me. Her head turned and, I am sure, she caught a glimpse of a moving darkness just before my right hand clamped over her mouth and my left arm swung over her shoulder allowing my left hand to grip her right arm, pinning her closely to my body.  "You came.” I whispered in her ear.  Her body was shaking violently and I could feel her breath coming in short, sharp, warm pants against my fingers, “Good girl, now control your breathing and relax a little, I have you safe and sound.” As I said this I used my right hand to brush her hair back over her ear and gently kissed it and, moving my head a little, I bit the lobe with just a little pressure from my teeth.  Even in her present shaken state, or maybe because of it, she let out a deep, long sigh and I felt her weight lean into me as she slumped slightly in my arms. Another gentle kiss on her ear followed by words spoken so softly they were more felt than heard, “Clever girl, pleasure and pain, fear and ecstasy and yours to enjoy or stop with a single word.” It is wise to remind a novice of their safeword I find in case, in the excitement of the new, they forget.  My right hand moved slowly inside her coat, which was of a dark material and almost as long as mine. My fingers slipped between the buttons of her shirt to rest lightly on a shear and half cup bra. Her flesh was very warm as I pushed my index finger under the top of the material and rolled her nipple under it then, drawing back my nail, I scraped over the small budding flesh. Another sweet sigh came to my ears.  I thought one more experience, before going up stairs, so my hand left her breast and moved slowly up to her throat and then, with a strong push, I sent her to thud against the wall and tightened my grip.  In the darkness I saw her eyes open wide as she saw my hooded face for the first time, “Sensations,” I said, “it can be all about sensations.”  “Upstairs, time to show you what the book could not.”  I released her and let her lead the way upstairs and into my playroom, the light was on dimmer so added a little dungeony atmosphere. I touched her shoulder to stop her then walked further into the room and sat on a chair facing her.  “Take off your coat.” I said.  I suppose it might be entertaining, and pleasing, to give a short deion of the girl at this point.  As I mentioned she fell perfectly into what I consider appealing, 5ft 7inchs tall, give or take an inch, a size 8 (I know such things as I sell corsets too) with breasts that fit nicely into my hand. Her hair, this evening, was shoulder length, straight and black with, something like burgundy hints. Her face was perfect, as only teenager’s skin can be, without wrinkles or lines and wearing black eyeliner and dark red lipstick.  As she took off her coat, which was a deep purple, I saw she was wearing a red shirt with full sleeves, a soft cotton skirt of a darker red that came to mid thigh, black fishnets and black, ankle boots, maybe, the same as on the first occasion I saw her.  “Hold-up’s or stockings? I asked, “show, don’t tell”  “You really don’t like small talk.” She said and lifted the hem of her skirt to show the lacy elasticated top of hold-ups.  “In case you do not know what these things are,” I waved my left hand to indicate my play furniture, “That is a St. Andrew’s Cross, a simple why to hold you safely, and securely, when being flogged; many like it this way, Dom and sub.  That is a spanking bench, you can lean against it or kneel on the lower cushion, also a nice height to fuck on. I have a pony, which is easier to show you it use than explain; maybe if you visit again I will let you ride it. And on the wall behind you there are many securing points if the cross is not wanted.”  “Come and kneel between my legs.” I said unzipping my coat and opening my knees.  She did not move and looked a little uneasy, “Be a good girl and come here so I can put some cuffs on your wrists. Now she came forward and knelt down, sitting on her heels and placed her right hand on my thigh.  “A little show of defiance?” I asked and not waiting for an answer I put on a leather restraint.  “These were the first things I ever made when I came to the Life.” She watched me intently with a small smile as I fastened the strap then, when it was done, she gave me her left hand for the other restraint.  “Close your eyes.” I said and once they were shut I said, “Open your legs and put your hands behind your back.” Her skirt rose up and I could see pale skin above the fishnets as she obeyed. I reached down and gently pulled my nails along her inner thigh and then sat back to look at her.  “In a few moments I will use some of my toys on you, I will begin with a soft toy and use it gently but then I will change it and use another type of toy and change again and each change will mean more sensation until it brings pain and maybe ecstasy”  I picked up a blindfold and told her to open her eyes and come closer. Once it covered her pretty blue eyes I told her to give me her hand and to stand up.  “Take off your skirt and give it to me.” She pulled down the zip at her hip and climbed out of the skirt. She wore a thin red g-string which was mostly lace and very seethough.  “Give me your right hand.” She did and I placed it on my left shoulder, “Now give me your right foot so I can add an ankle cuff. “Now your left.” Once the other restraint was on I ran my hand along the underside of her leg, over her hold-ups, across skin and gently touched the g-string with my finger tips.  I lifted her foot off my knee and, standing up, led her back to my flogging wall.  “As this is your first time I will let you keep your arms down by your side, I will still tie them as don’t want you covering yourself, but it is a little more comfortable this way. First though I need to do this.” I unbuttoned her shirt and took it off her compliant body. Her bra matched her g-string, cut low letting half a nipple show above both cups. I lifted out her left breast and sucked hard on her nipple pinching it between thumb and forefinger as I let it fall from my mouth, forcing a gasp of pain, or pleasure, from her lips.  I tied red rope to her left wrist restraint securing her hand about 6 inched from her side then did the same with her right wrist, then, before continuing and because she could no longer see me, I removed my hood and coat. I knelt in front of her and kissed her navel before tying a rope to her left ankle restraint and then her right, forcing her legs almost three feet apart  I sat back on my boot heels and looked at her, chest rising and falling quickly as she breathed in short, shallow breaths, one nipple, very pink, hard rested over the top of red material and moving down to more red material, wet and slick as her body, and mind, responded to stimuli physical and mental.  “This is a suede flogger.” I said beginning to gentle swing it in a figure of eight so that its movement caused a breeze that caressed her skin; goosebumps appeared over her arms.  I took half a step closer and the 18 tails brushed against flesh creating delicate slapping sounds. Downwards over left breast then right breast, from shoulder to nipple then, with a slight change of action, from hip to navel, left then right with not too much force, letting the suede tails move across skin once or twice a second.  I took another half step increasing the speed of my swing and the impact now made a very nice sharp sound. An added bonus, for me anyway, was that her hidden nipple had been forced out by the flogging action and the tails hit each pink morsel on each pass of the flogger.  Her skin was turning pink so I stopped and, discarding my flogger, ran my hands over her gently, creating marks with my nails and feeling the warmth I had created.  I have a very sharp dagger, broad of blade and 12 inches long in my playroom, I unsheathed it and laid the cold blade on her left breast, a nice intake of breath was my reward. I moved the edge across her breasts and under the right strap of her bra. A quick upwards pull and the strap split in two, a reverse journey, with a little more pressure this time, ended in another strap cut through. I reached behind her to unclipped the strap and her head came forward to rest against my neck and I felt a gentle kiss alight there. The clip opened (yes I can do this one handed) and felt the bra fall to the floor.  “More.” Was the single word she breathed against my neck.  “Obviously, little one.” My reply.  3 fingers of my right hand moved up quickly to slap the red material of her g-string, ‘very wet indeed’ I thought as I stepped back and reached for my red and black 36tail flogger.  Now, as the multi tails hit, her muscles twitched and small panted sighs came from her lips. Heavy, thudding hits moved a breast with each contact and made a wonderful sound as they hit her flat stomach, only a couple minutes of this and her skin was red and she was dancing on her toes with each hit  I stopped and dropped the flogger into my play bag and stood still simply looking at her, I had a strong, and strange, urge to untie her and carry her to my bedroom and gently make love to her for she looked so innocent and young tied against my wall. I had an overwhelming desire to ‘comfort, no wrong word, worship her was much closer to the mark.  Her head tilted to the left, as though listening for me, and then said, “Demon: Sir? Is everything alright?”  A slow smile returned to my lips and, stepping forward, slapped down hard on her left breast stinging the fingers of my hand. She cried out in pain and, no doubt, shock and her blind eyes looked down to her hurting flesh as her hand tried to reach up to ease the sensation  "All is just as it should be.” I said, “One more toy and then you can turn around for a time.”  I have two toys I call ‘little and big sister’, little sis is a whip flogger with a jointed tail section joining 8 shortish leather tails to the main body of the whip, very flicky and stingy; perfect for nipples and caressing g-strings with touches of fire.  Following the heavy beat from the music, heard and felt from downstairs, I flicked the tails at her legs, aiming just above her knees and, with a strong wrist action, moved the tails slowly upwards, hitting one leg then the other. I was tempted to aim at that small piece of red material but did not want to risk her stopping the play. I, therefore, moved outwards as I got higher and then continued moving towards her navel and up over her breasts. I was rewarded with many twitches, sighs and seeing her hands clenching and unclenching.  I pushed this play as much as I dared, as I love the way this toy touches nipples with fiery kisses, so I watching her face and body intently, looking for the moment when her strength, courage, tolerance or, god forbid, boredom got the better of her.  She was shaking her head from side to side, facing the heavens her mouth open sucking in air as though drowning, so I slowed my swings and eased off the pressure until finally I stopped.  Throwing the toy in to my bag I put my arms around her and pulled her to me, after a moment I raked my nails down her back – sensation upon sensation without time to recover or relax into a lessened state of awareness  “If you do not want this just says no, other things can still continue.” I said and slipped 2 fingers under her g-string and into her wet, warm cunt.  She almost screamed as she thrust her hips forward on to my hand so, smiling (being a sadist makes me smile a great deal), I thrust my fingers into her letting my palm thud into her clit.  I am a Dom, a sadist and I love to inflict pain but I do not like receiving it, so I had an entertaining decision to make for, as my fingers continued to make her body shake and quiver, her mouth found my shoulder and her teeth found my flesh and she bit me as the orgasm, I knew was coming, racked her body.  I added a finger and speed and as her groaning breaths moved against my skin I almost forgot my tortured flesh until she cried out, releasing her hold on me. As her body danced in uncontrolled spasms while waves of orgasm rippled through her the pain in my shoulder doubled up giving me an incentive to reinforce the speed and strength of my fingers lifting her onto her very toes.  “Oh god, stop please stop, for fuck sake stop, god oh god oh god.” Such sweet words tripped continually from her gasping mouth, and like the good Dom I am, I continued, She had arched her back, a beautiful human sculpture curving from toe tip to crown of head resting on the wall with nipples pointing to the sky,  I bent down and bit into her left nipple, teeth clamping hard, head pulling back and lips clamped to allow me to suck hard and long.  I felt a sudden explosion of hot wetness on my hand and she screamed in one long wild cry, second after second her scream continued  as my fingers and teeth did their work, “Demon, Lord, Sir, please, please stop.” she begged as the scream finally died  I stopped my fingers movement but left them buried inside her, releasing her nipple I supported her weight with my left arm as she straightened up to rest against the wall behind her. My fingers rolled over each other in the warmth of her cunt as I slowly withdrew them.  “Open your mouth”, I said, “You have made a mess on my hand.” This she did and as I placed my fingers close to her lips her tongue came out and eagerly licked them clean of her unexpected reaction. “Good girl.” I said as I watched her clean my hand.  “A slight rest, little one, then we will continue with more toys if you still wish it.” I watched her face hoping she would not want to stop. She said nothing as her breathing slowed. I asked, “Would you like some cold water?” With a slight nod of her head I said, “Stay still while I am gone, it will be only seconds but continue to rest against the wall your legs may not want to obey you if asked to do more than stand still.”  On impulse I gentle kissed her lips, tasting her cunt on them, before leaving to run cold water into a glass, returning I let her sip for a few moments until the glass was almost empty.  I placed my right hand, cold from holding the glass, against her cheek and let it travel over her skin to her shoulder then down her arm to reach the restraint. As I untied the rope I said, “I am not trying to break you, little one, I am not trying to release your hidden goddess or any other such sad drivel, I seek only to let you know yourself, your limits, your desires and allow you the freedom to enjoy and act on them.”  With the last rope untied and kneeling in front of her – I am worshipping again I thought to myself - I ran my hands up her legs and under the thin straps of her g-string and then slowly pulled them down her legs until she obediently lifted her right foot, then her left, to allow me to remove them.  I thought for a second or two, artistic considerations my only concern (sometimes my mind takes little detours) and then, making a decision, I removed her boots, ankle restraints then hold ups making sure my hands travelled slowly down her legs as I did so.  Naked, the first time is always so uniquely special, it is a shame how familiarity can diminish the beautiful sometimes - much too deep – maybe tis the fault of Metallica’s ‘Nothing Else Matters’ which is now playing.  No tattoos, no body piercings, (maybe I can add a piece of jewellery so she will never forget me) a tiny scar above her right knee, cunt, now swollen and pink, clean shaven, her skin red with a few subtle marks remaining from the flogging. Worshipping indeed, it is a good thing she wears a blindfold.  I stand and, taking her hand, pull her away from the wall, “Time to turn around,” I say, “Wait”  I leaned a 10 foot piece of wood, 10 inches wide by 2inches thick, against the flogging wall where she had been standing and then placed her hand on it, “Lean on this, it will hold your weight do not worry. It is best if you rest your head on your hands as this get your arms away from the flogger’s tails”  I caressed her back with my nails, leaving swirlling marks in her skin, “I have 2 toys like the ones you have felt, then others that are more severe, twin tailed straps in leather and rubber and then whips and for your arse I have paddles and a horse crop. You may be surprised how much you will like your back being flogged but I would hate for your front to feel left out”  Resting my weight against the full length of her body, crushing her against the hard wood, I reached around to attach a butterfly clamp to her right nipple and she cried out a little, which was pleasing, as it bit. I attached the other to her left nipple and said, “There is a chain between them, do not pull away from the wood or you will not enjoy the result.”  ‘Big Sister’ is a flogger with 12 plaited, leather tails about 36inch in total length, I stood behind her and, again using the typical figure 8 action, began to touch her skin, very gently to start and at a slow speed too.  Building up speed and strength over a couple of minutes she began to make sweet music of sighs and little cries, the tails hit with delicious sharp sounds of their own as I began to punctuate the pattern of swings by sending much stronger whip like flicks at her arse, which, soon made her tense her muscles in anticipation of the next strike.I laid this toy down and picked up my purple and black Cougar (a longer 12 tail leather cat with 4in leather thongs at each tail end). I began again using this new toy in the same place and in the same pattern but then moved to my left, continuing to hit as I moved.  Once I stood level with her shoulder and about a stride from her I changed the way I used the Cougar. I now brought it down in single strokes, striking from shoulder blade to shoulder blade and moving down her back to her arse using much more strength especially when connecting, horizontally, on her reddening arse cheeks.  I could see her face as I stuck, and with each hit her teeth bit into her bottom lip. I said, continuing to hit, “Your choice, 12 hard strokes to upper back or arse?” she did not reply for a couple of seconds so I added, “And then I will take the clamps of your nipples.”  “Bum” she replied so I hit her hard on her shoulders and said “Bum, what”  “Bum, Sir” she said quickly after a gasp  “I was expecting a ‘please’, but Sir will do.” And then added, “count them as I hit in case I forgot how many and have to start again.”  She did as was told and by the time she got to 12 her voice was shaking as the strikes had gotten harder, “Good girl,“ I said and throwing the Cougar onto my bag I rubbed her back running hands over slight welts in her skin. Standing behind her I kneeded her arse for half a minute to ease the sting and then moved to kneel by her head.  “A new sensation now, what fun this will be.” I could see her face react as she tried to work out what I meant, “Your sweet, poor, tortured nipple hurt when the clamp went on but now is almost bearable. But when I take it off, new blood with rush back in, nerves will awaken and you will have an experience to file away and fear for the next time. Rubbing it will greatly ease the pain but do not rub it until I say you can.”  I held the clamp and because I am a sadist I twisted it first with a gentle tug, she squealed loudly, “Sorry little one, I just wanted to make sure you remember my words.” I pushed and the clamp opens, her nipple sticking to it for a second before coming free.  Her mouth opened and she sucked air in in gasps as the pain returned to her pink flesh, it was still flattened from the clamp’s pressure and I waited for a count of 5 then said, “You may rub it now.”  Quickly her right hand reached under her and he caressed her breast and nipple, a most rewarding sight. I let this go on for a short time still holding the removed clamp.  “Now then, time to repeat this joy. You get a choice.” I released my hold on the removed clamp and it swung down freely to tug gently on her other nipple, another squeal; being a sadist is fun indeed.  “You can give me a reward, for all my kind attention, and rub your nipple straight away or you must count 60 seconds before I let you rub after it comes off.”  In a most sweet and quiet voice she asked, “What reward, Sir?”  I stood and stepped slightly forward so my leather trousers just touched her upper arm.  ”You can open your mouth.”  “I don’t think I can count to 60, Sir, so the reward is wiser.” I noticed she was smiling and as I pulled down my zip I said, “I must be doing something wrong if you are still smiling. Open.”  I slipped my prick into her hot mouth and, leaning over her, put my left hand between her shoulder blades ready to release the remaining clamp. I closed my eyes as her head began to move and I felt her suck and bite on my, most entertained, cock. “Let me know when you want the clamp off and I will quickly remove it for you to ease the pain”.  Her left hand had found its way between my legs and was holding my left thigh, gently pulling me towards her in time with her head movements. Her right hand she lifted and laid, palm up, on her back, I thought, so I had easy access to the remaining clamp.  After a very pleasing minute or two she took her mouth off me and said ‘now’ and returned to my ‘reward’. Reaching over I pressed in the clamp and pulled it off dropping them to the floor. I heard, and felt on my prick, her squeal as she sucked harder on me taking my prick to the back of her throat, her left hand pulling me in and holding me there though her right hand did not leave her back.  Her squeal became a mauling sound as her body began to shiver and only after about 30 seconds did her right hand finally move and I saw her massaging her right breast. I may be a Dom and a sadist but this sight, with this ‘attention, was too much (I am a male after all) so I pulled myself from her mouth and looked at the ceiling for a few seconds. This only just did its purpose as once my prick was out of her mouth the sounds she then made, as her orgasm came and diminished, could have deflowered a priest.  Fighting an almost overpowering desire to put my prick back in to her, anywhere in her, I finally put it back in my trousers and pulled up my zip – will power, such a pain in the arse at times.  I went to my bag and found my leg spreader, a 10mm bar of mild steel I had fashioned a few years before in the heat of a furnace - not unlike the forging of a new submissive I thought to myself. I found myself kneeling at her feet again as I replaced her ankle restraints and then secured these to the spreader bar, forcing her legs 30 inches apart. I made the mistake of looking up, and the sight of her open and inviting cunt almost made me change my mind about where I had put my prick.  There is a metal securing bolt at the top of the plank of wood so moving to stand by her head I took her hands and tied them to it so she was stretched along the wood’s length.  “The toys from now on will be much more intense?” I said. “I will use each for a minute or so but with each change they will get a little harsher. You already have pretty marks on your skin but these toys will leave better ones that will last for a few days, shall I begin?”  “Yes, My Demon.” she whispered and I saw her grip the ropes that tied her hands.  I take a red and black leather flog with twin, 8 inch, tails and began it strike her back, moving around her, watching her muscles twitch as the stinging leather hit, from neck to arse, leaving growing welts on her skin.  I hit with a constant strength as I moved from her left side to her right and back again until I was back at my starting position where I took a step closer to her and, reaching, sent the tails around her ribs to contact with her softly hanging breast. Her back arched and she screamed in a short feral explosion.  I dropped the flogger and, as she clenched her teeth, grabbed the hurt breast and squeezed it in my fist, “If you are expecting one thing the unexpected is so much better.” I said changing my hold on her flesh and rolling the nipple between thumb and finger.  I saw a tear appear under her blindfold so asked, “Do I continue, you remember the word to end this?”  I could see her think and then she said, “I remember but I don’t know, I think, I think I want to say stop.”  “ok, I will continue with a different sensation, use the word when you know you are sure about ending things.”  I untied her hands, along with one end of the spreader bar then said, helping her stand up, “I just need you to turn around and lay back on the wood.”  She was a little shaky as she stood so putting my arm around her I held her tight. As I did this her head lifted up so I kissed her and was pleasantly surprised as her tongue forced its way into my mouth. The kiss continued and my hand found its way between her legs and a single finger entered her gently slipping in and out as she lifted her left leg to give me easier excess.  “Enough.” I said removing my finger and mouth from her body, I helped her back onto the sloping wood and again tied her hands high above her head, to the securing bolt, I then secured the spreader bar between the ankle restraints under the wood. The bar has a loop at midpoint and to this I tied a length of rope, the other end I tied to the flogging wall, pulling her feet back under her arse and lifting her cunt high as her hips where pulled wide due to the width of the plank.  I sat on the chair I had used earlier and took off my boots and then trousers. I found a condom and with a little concentration, put it on then selected a horse crop, which had two short leather tails about 2 inches long, and moved to stand at the foot of the wood plank.  With small, sharp movements of my wrist I sent the tails across her nipples, first one then the other, hitting 10 or 12 times in a staccato rhythm then changing the target to hit once between her legs, on soft pink lips which stood, unexpectantly, open. I repeated this 3 or 4 times until I judged I had risked enough and she had had enough.  I moved to stand by her side and, while I stroked her body from nipple to inner thigh, I whispered in her ear, “Some do not think fucking is part of BDSM so I shall ask if you wished to be fucked before I do it as part of this experience.”  “Yes, Sir,” She said with a small smile. “or, Yes Please if you prefer.”  I untied her hands and she let her arms hang down at her side as I lifted my right leg over the plank so my prick was an inch or two from her and said, “Do not be cheeky, little one, you are still tied and just because I will be fucking you does not mean it will be the only sensation you will have  I inched forward and, pushing down on the end of my prick I slowly move inside her and like a good girl she pushed herself deeper onto me. I stood still, prick buried in warmth, and using the crop’s leather tails drew sensual trails across her skin from nipple to nipple to navel to clit and back again. Within a minute she raised her hands and held them again my hips as she began to move on my prick, drawing herself off and then pushing down to rub her clit against my groin as I stood immobile, her breathing began to get faster and, as her nails began to dig in, I saw the growing need she had for me to move inside her. Realising the moment had arrived I rested the crop across her belly and, putting a hand on each of her breasts, leaned down to kiss her ear.  My full weight was pressing down on her, crushing nipples against ribs through the flesh of her breasts. I thrust into her, my movement, adding more pressure and pain, caused her to groan loudly, “I will fuck you for as long as you stand the pain.” I whispered and, pushing myself up on to straight arms, continued to fuck her going as deep and fast as her mirrowing movements allowed.  My breathing was becoming fast as she placed her hands over mine and I saw her dig her nails deep into the soft flesh of her breasts between my fingers, ‘that is unexpected’ I thought to myself and took my left hand away to see what she would do.  Her hands squeezed and twisted her flesh, raking her nails across her erect nipple leaving lines as red as those I had given from my flogging.  “Harder.” A single word, she said, between gasping breathes as she reached for my left hand.  Making my hands into fists I pressed my knuckles into her breasts as her hands returned to my hips.  I fucked and forced my weight onto her as a building pain built in my hips under her hands, looking down I saw a bright red drop of blood on my skin, red lines, from this dear girl’s nails, mirroring her own marks; a small price to pay  I did not think I would be able to make her cum, or decide to stop this pain, before I came but suddenly her head thrashed from side to side and the raking of my skin stopped. She made no sound, did not breathe as her fingers spread wide and muscles moved in slow waves under the tight skin of her stomach.  I came a second later and, fighting the mix of pain and pleasure in the tip of my prick, continued to thrust into her until her movements calmed down.  A second’s pause, heart pounding, breathing trying to fill my lungs, vision clearing from an unnoticed unfocused gaze, I stand and let my prick die a little inside her.  I grasped the wood plank on either side of her neck and, leaning down, kiss her lightly on the lips. I gently removed the blindfold and threw it onto the floor.  Her eyes remain closed as I pushed myself up to stand looking down at her – fuck she was beautiful.  Her eyes opened slightly, they shine, a small smile comes to her lips and letting her arms fall to her side she closes her eyes again as the smile grows bigger.  Sadly, oh so very sadly, I pull myself out of her and stepping over the wooden plank sit down on the chair because my legs are shaking in a most entertaining fashion.  We stayed like that for about 5 minutes, her smiles, fading then bursting out bigger than before as the minutes pass.  I pulled on my trousers, discarding the condom into a bin, but remained barefooted as I moved to her shackled feet. I knelt down - I seemed to always be on my knees in front of her – and unbuckled the nearest restraint. Reaching under the plank I finally managed to unbuckle the other and, as if by magic, found myself within reach of her glistening cunt.  Like the nice Dom I am I lowered my head and, after one long, slow lick, bit gently into her soft pick lips, she tasted sweet, naturally and with a hint of strawberry from my used condom.  After a few seconds I stood going to her side to help her stand but as I got close she reached out and put the fingers of her left hand in to my unzipped trousers. I stopped and she pulled out my prick and, with a gentle tug, she led me back to her mouth, slow and gentle this time she held me with soft licks and sucks.  With eyes closed, her right hand moved slowly to go between her legs, with slow strokes, she put two fingers inside her.  I am old, but luckily not that old, for as I watched and felt her actions my prick came back to life. I took in what she was doing and let myself react as my body wished with no attempt at self control.  With a full prick in her mouth her fingers moved faster and, again, erotic moans began to come from her mouth vibrating on my shaft.  “I am going to cum.” I said giving her time to withdraw her mouth, if she wished, but she sucked as before and her fingers gained speed and strength adding wet sounds to my already stimulated senses.  I had to grab, with equal strength and need, the plank for balance and her hair to pull her on to me as I came in four strong spasms. She sucked, swallowed and bit as I came and I could not stop a cry cascade from my lips which went, something like, ”fffuuucckkkking jeeeeeeesus fucking Christ” as I tried to pierce the back of her skull with my softening prick.  As I died again, this time in her mouth, she gently sucked and licked until after a minute or so she took her mouth away, looked up at me and said with a smile, “Hello, Demon, my name’s Amy.”  The End - i think?

     

  My thoughts and understanding between the difference between a sub and a slave.  Yes, everyone thinks that a slave has no rights. They are property.  I view slavery as the utmost form of submission.  When a sub says to her dom or master "please own me." What the slave is meaning is that she has such trust in her dom that she trusts him with her life. Not only physically, but psychologically as well. She knows that any decsions that her "owner" makes is in the best interests of the slave.  This subsmission should not be taken lightly but after a high degree of trust is earned. That trust has to be mutual or the relationship will suffer.   Basic Rules    1. The sub/slave will address all men as Sir or other appropiate title within the BDSM lifestyle, All women will be addressed as Mistress or other appropiate title within the BDSM lifestyle. If agreed too all vanilla men and women will be refered to as sir or ma'am.   2. The sub/slave wil report any changes to health physical or mental.   3. The sub/slave will commincate any concerns, requests, or desires in an honest and respectful manner as well as keep a journal and make one entry per day in the journal and will present the journal for review weekly.   4. The sub/slave when entering the houshold shall remove all clothing and present herself naked for inspection. Once inspected she is to remain naked or dress in appropiate clothing as directed.   5. The sub/slave will accept any restriction as agreed too including mental or physical bondage.   6. The sub/slave will adhere to all protocols, modes of speech, positions as agreed too. All positions must be done in a graceful manner.   7. The sub/slave will accept any discipline and punishment as agreed too and realize that thisis a corrective action to aid her in her journey of submission.   8. The sub/slave shall perform any sexual service as agreed too, unless there is a health issue that would prevent her from performing that sexual service.   9. The sub/slave shall perform any domestic service as agreed too, unless there is a health issue that would prevent her from performing that domestic service.   10. A collared sub/slave shall honor her collar and not engage in any activity that would dishonor her collar, herself, or her dom/master.

The picture for the following scene deion next week shows the soles of My shoes and a call bell in My hand.   I have just returned from walking on a very popular board walk along puget sound. The only problem with this wonderful stroll is the filth left by dogs on the boards.    People love to walk their dogs where they can also enjoy the vista of sound and mountains. However, people do not love to clean up after their animals.    Now I am home. As anyone can see I have rang the hand bell to call my slave.    Does the reader consider itself a slave? If so, the above view is what it gets when it answers the bell on its knees as it should. Looking up it sees the soles of my shoes.    Tell Me, slave, how does it feel looking up?    Is it hesitant? 

What am I intreseted in?  What am I looking for?  I am open to many situations.  Mostly I would like an online sub to be my babygirl.  Someone who wants to live her normal life and yet needs someone to give her stability and direction.  I would guess a Daddy figure is the most accurate description. All of that being said I understand we all have different views of the perfect relationship. While I search for my "perfect" match, I am willing to learn about what you want, and who knows, it may become what I want. Let's talk and see if we can meet on some common ground.

I am building a House, an organization for many slaves, many. I offer a concept that is foreign to most, because most seek that one-on-one dynamic. As a result, not all but many flounder for years looking for the 'one'.What is offered is a home to those that cannot find the 'one' or no longer feel life must only be about the the 'one'. With this opportunity comes the offer of being able to call one 'Master', to fill that need, as they enjoy the larger chance to be part of something more than being alone within itself.Can I be a great Master to one? Definitely. It is very pleasing.But, I wish to be more, and more than just to one.I am trying to offer more to more, a home to many.Some would rather remain alone. I respect that.This is not for them. I offer something in lieu of nothing.More than that. I offer something for their 'one' and themselves, if they are so inclined.More than that, I offer community to the M/s community.A chance to be more, much more than just being alone or a couple.A opportunity to grow more than just themselves, to grow their world around them as they grow.To do that one must consider broadening, not limiting ones' possibilities.Master would love to see all grow with Master and the others in the House, as all enjoy the process of growth, of being more of what one seeks. To self-actualize both the light and darkness within.

i have been going through hell for the past week. Yesterday was finally here and gone. Yeah, for that and thensome. i am so drained from the 15 hours of work put in for the day, cleaning the house, laundry and making 3 sets of beds from washing all the bedding (pillows, blankets, and sheets). Then this morning i got sick while sleeping and woke to it.... yes one can get sick and sleep through it. i was so dead tired that i woke sometime afterwards, so then i had to wash the bedding of mine, all over again........minus the pillows.  Good thing ijust had a duvet cover on my bed as a blanket, so no heavy comforter was needing washing again... phew. Now, i lay in bed, with a xour tummy i just fed screambled eggs and cheese. ..... Now that i think about it...... i wonder if my tooth pain is making me feel this way? those eggs were soooooooooooooo good the doggo's wanted them too, they were at me heels trying to get anytihng that would fall into my lap. lol Thank goodness for Friday. Now, Saturday is the next day from Hell.

I'm actually sad to be back here on this site, after so many  years being happy with who I found and who was very loyal.  Unfortunitly he is no more and here I am.    This is time consumming as it is for  you as well.  So if I don't respond after I read your message it's because this search sometimes gets over whelming trying to figure out who is who  and what someone is looking for exactly EXACTLY.  For instance, if someone is just looking for weekend play,  or something along that line. Please do me a favor and don't even write. I'm sure there is probably someone else out there that wants that.   I have to say I do get a rise when I find someone I can connect to on a higher plane.  I like intelligent converstation but it is also time consumming and easier to move to phone eventually.   I'm not talking about someone with a high IQ and can memorize the encyclopedia .  I'm talking about someone that is beyond that and I can talk to about the meaning of life , so to speak.   Does my sub/slave need to be smart and have a college education ? No , some of the best people I know even dropped out of school and never finished.   With today's AI we can all be artist, writers, and seemingly a genious.  But with all that , there is something deeper. If you don't know what I'm talking about then you don't know. If you do understand then you do know.   If who comes to live here can't even read but knows how to have a great garden, knows how to use his hands.( even if he doesnt but is more than willing to learn) That is way more important to me than anything.   However is someone works online and doesn't know how to work with his hands. Then he could be useful as well and I don't rule that out.  I said all that to help you to have a better understanding what I'm looking for .  I hope not to be on here for several months but who knows.    The last person I found on here was about 8 years ago. We met on here talked for a couple weeks. He moved here and has been here ever since.   That's what happens when people are open and honest and do what they say they are going to do . 

tonight i miss you   19 years and counting. i still don't know your name. i still don't know your face. but you have to be out there.   i miss you every day. but nights like tonight are harder.   things are rough right now....big jess is worn and little jess is despondent. just for tonight if only i could see you, if only i could hear you, smell you feel you.   maybe if you could hold me and tell me somehow this will all work out i could keep going better. but i can't.   tonight i hit another wall another moment where the adult me has to push and the little me hides more and more, it's not safe to be out.   daddy i don't know why you've been gone for so long but i really wish you could hold me right now and talk to me and just for one night we could go to sleep together. even if it was just a moment and the stars and spirit took you away from me again...just one moment would fill my juice cup so big.   someone told me it sounds like a good country song, "19 years of looking and he's still not here". every day i feel your absence. but tonight is one of those impossible nights.   tonight i miss you.

I wouldn't call myself Kinky The umbrella that kink, bdsm, dom/sub etc have come to represent is rather large at this point. I would say the majority of people on here are kinky/slutty and only vaguely interested in dynamics in which power is exchanged except perhaps as it makes things spicy or facilitates a kink. Now of course there is so much potential overlap that it can become a rather ry and most likely an unnecessary distinction. I look around it's endless dick pictures, or tit/pussy pictures, it's people throwing dirty sexual thoughts out there, but in a throwaway type, that are put out there for no other reason than they get that quick empty thrill and the vague hope that your next no effort meaningless sexual encounter will find you. I see endless personal ads looking for a "Master to own and train" or one of the 100 variations on that basic thought. No you really aren't, you most likely have not thought through what that really means and if you had you would be starting off much slower. What your really looking for is some hot roleplay, a quick jump into a pretend scene that does absolutely nothing to challenge your identity or ego. Maybe you think you really want that master or slave but chances are you are only thinking about it from that hot sex pov with that fantasy master/slave you have in your head that doesn't exist. There is nothing wrong with all this though. I begrudge no one the pursuit of what they consider a good time and I definitely do not judge needing an escape from the drudgery most of our lives represent. We only live once. That said though much of it doesn't really speak to me. I'm not sure I would consider myself kinky even though the array of things I want to do and that fascinate me i

So I suppose I should expand upon what we are seeking so as not to waste anyone's time. I am absolutely not a Dom or even a switch, not really. Not in kink and not in life. But I am looking for a submissive. Who will let me have my way with them like a spoiled child. I want someone so wrapped around my fingers that even though there really aren't any consequences I can give them, and that even though they could over power me or outsmart me they choose not to they choose every second of their submission wholely over and over again. No matter what I am doing to them they choose me as their princess. A submissive daddy type if you will. And daddys arent controlled with fear and pain and neglect but with love and attention and sweet words...and other tantalizing treats.    I feel this is the type of relationship Westley and Buttercup had. Lol.    Ok I am sure I have done a not so stellar job explaining this but hopefully a bit better then before.    Be well everyone.   As always curious friends are always welcome as well.

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

test results... I don't necessarily agree with all of these amounts though. Updated March 2022 == Results from bdsmtest.org ==100% Rigger100% Sadist100% Owner100% Master/Mistress94% Dominant93% Switch90% Non-monogamist90% Primal (Hunter)83% Pet81% Brat tamer71% Experimentalist67% Primal (Prey)63% Voyeur62% Degrader61% Rope bunny57% Submissive47% Masochist37% Brat14% Exhibitionist11% Daddy/Mommy2% Vanilla0% Boy/Girl0% Degradee0% Slave0% Ageplayer

I feel like the majority of people on this site are clinging to an unachievable fantasy. There. I said it. Don't get me wrong... Kink, total power exchange, all of that stuff is GREAT, and I wouldn't be here if I didn't want that in my relationship. But so many people here seem to blow those things up into EXTREMES. We are all here ultimately seeking some form of relationship. Even if you want your relationship to entirely revolve around sex and kink and that is all you care about, it's still a relationship. Especially if you're seeking to be a live-in slave, how do you expect to fill the void when you're NOT in the middle of sex stuff? The emotional connection is SO IMPORTANT. Yes, it's important to me that my boy be cute and his looks match what I want, but I would get bored of him SO quickly if he had the personality of a potato. I know some of you want to be totally o b j e c t ified and locked away when you're not in use, which DOES sound hot and appealing, but I also feel that would get SO boring, lonely, and miserable after like... a week, if not a day. The kink and power exchange should definitely be present, but to me there is no satisfaction in owning someone without a soul. We are social creatures, and you should be giving more than just your body to me. The TOTAL o b j e c t ification stuff can be a fun activity we do sometimes and turn on and off as I please, but I just don't see the reality in centering a whole lifestyle around it. (Though the total power exchange element WOULD always be present. You are still my human after all!) If you plan to approach me, PLEASE be ready to talk about more than just sexual stuff. Be your authentic self, let your personality shine through, give me a sense of who you are and what you're all about! I promise it will make me want to own you all the more. My favorite people are the ones with lots of personality.

There's this man I know. He says he's not a nice guy. He listens intently to me ramble. When I apologize for it, he tells me not to because I like telling him things, and he enjoys that. There's this man I know. He says he's selfish. I've sent him cute things, naughty things. He never asks for them. He says he'll never pressure me, and appreciates when I do things of my own accord. There's this man I know. He says he's got an unquenchable thirst. I used to lay out opportunities that he'd reject. He says as much as he finds me attractive, there's a reason we've been friends for so long, and he likes having me around. There's this man I know. He says he's dark. I've told him all my insecurities. He's seen my lowest points, seen me spiral out, make terrible decisions. He's never made me feel ashamed. He's never kept them as leverage against me. He makes every bad step I take seem so incredibly small. There's this man I know. He says he's cold. His praises are detailed and specific. He says he's proud of me and that I should be proud, too. There's this man I know. He says he's uncaring. He once kept me company an entire day while I was unwell, just to help distract me from it. He barely knew me. There's this man I know. He says he's a bad man. He's honest. He's kind. He's funny. He's doting. He's patient. He's always on my side.  He's a good man, and I'm grateful to know him.

No poetry from me today as I am looking forward to seeing Pretty Wreckless and  ACDC tomorrow at Wembley!!!  On a different subject those who apply to me who drive don't continue chatting. I have no intention of doing online sexting and expect ordinary topic style conversation which appears to beyond those submissive guys who message me 🤔  Okay they are not compatible so I move on. Though I wonder why they bother at all if they don't wish to make an effort to chat here. Of course establishing his intent is key. Most hold back on that using "boy speak" thinking creepy words which sound simpy will suffice= No. Honesty is key and attending the Munch I mention ASAP is the first step. Want to voice talk with me = it will be voice on Skype no you will not get my mobile number. No I am not interested until your location is near me. "Oh I will move for you" is declined/blocked. Reading other journals I see plenty of Dominant Women going through a similar problem. A guy who thinks he is interested and fits key points she seeks = submissive by his intent to please her and is ready to do stuff to show that. Like attending a munch as an adult and being a pleasant social adult. Why is being a social adult past his remit of what he can offer= his intent is to be an online wanker. That's blocked by me. Then I read one guy's journal about Dominant Women putting him, a round peg, into all sorts of bizarre shaped holes. Not reinventing the wheel here. Compatibility is first = outside of play and kink BEFORE play, kink and sex occur. Those fuckbois are a hard limit =oh fuck my ass"= that's anal sex. So they want a Kink dispenser ONLY=hard limit for me. Poof their gone. No problem my whips, rope, floggers and amusements will go on another. A whole adult strong submissive man intent on pleasing me, and accepting I am poly and being a grown up about it.

  The script was essentially a love story.  The narrator, Heather, describes how she gets revenge after her husband cheats on her.  There's lots of sex and torture going on as any porn movie would have.  My character was simply an innocent girl who was captured and tortured because Heather's character thought I was the one her husband was with.   We'd have these read through sessions which to me were funny because I didn't have any dialogue other than some moaning and screaming.  If you think about it, not everyone has a good scream.  It took some practice.   I met with the makeup girl who handed me a bag of stuff.  What's this? I asked.  It's your costume she said.  I looked inside and there were 20 string bikini bottoms in various colors inside.  I gave her this puzzled look.  She said I know, there's a lot but I had the material and wanted to make them in different colors in case the director wanted it.  I held up a black one and it basically was a couple of triangles and some string.  I tried it on and it looked great.  I was able to pull the strings up high on the sides like I like it.  Can I keep them? I asked.  Of course she said.  I smiled, thanks!  After she styled my hair and did my make up we headed for the set.  There was a lot going on.  Gaffers were busily adjusting cables and lights and the cameraman was setting up.  I could overhear a conversation between the director and the set manager. SM: Ok Heather heads for the dungeon and her and a guard go at it.  Then they talk about torture girl.  Who's torture girl? Jim:  She's that new bondage model from the pool party.   SM:  Oh, ok.  They go to the dungeon where torture girl is tied to the wheel of pain.  They spin her around and interrogate her.  Then they leave her there and go to the bedroom and the guard and the servant girl do it on the bed while she watches.  How do you want to light that? Jim:  I want it as natural as possible.  No floods.  The prop master, the nice man who built all the equipment on set came over to me.  I stood in front of him wearing my bikini bottom.  He looked me up and down.  "Ok you look great.  Are you ready?".  I nodded yes.  He led me to the wheel.  I was instructed to stand inside the wheel spread eagle with my back to a small square pad.  My wrists and ankles were bound to the rim of the wheel and a wide belt was strapped to my belly.  Tight.  A gag was put on me.   PM: It takes about 5 seconds for you to spin around.  Thank goodness you're tall so it should look fantastic.  When the director says action I'll flip the switch.  You'll keep spinning until he says cut.  Got it? I nodded yes.  I looked directly ahead.  I sucked my tummy in as much as I could.  I heard "Action!". I slowly was spun around and around.  I just stared forward trying not to react.  I could see my image in the monitor in the background as the camera slowly panned down from my head to my  toes.  My ribs were showing and my hip bones were sticking out.   Heather stood in front of me and pretended to interrogate me.  I heard  "Cut!". The machine stopped.   Jim: No no this won't work Heather.  You're asking her questions and she's wearing a gag.  It doesn't make sense.  Let's do it again without the gag.  He walked over to me and asked, Are you ok? Do you think you can do it again? I nodded yes and smiled.   My gag was removed and the scene was reshot.  After it ended the set erupted in applause.  I was untied and helped to a nearby chair.  The actors on set said I looked awesome and sexy.   Jim:  We can stop here if you want or we can do the rack scene.   Me:  I feel good.  I'd love the rack.   Jim: You see Heather?  Those muscle girls were a joke.  What good are all those muscles if you can't take any pain?  Ok everyone, take five and we'll stretch her on the rack.  

You should be very careful throwing around terms like "true Dom/Master/sub/slave" or "real Dom/Master/sub/slave". What is real and true to me isn't necessarily what's real and true to someone else. A lot of times people throw out those terms and what they really mean is "someone who thinks exactly like me" or "someone who practices BDSM just like I do". Other times they mean "you have to agree with everything I say, believe and do, or you're not a 'real' Dom/sub/Master/slave". As far as I'm concerned, if you're willing to learn from others (regardless of which side of the slash they live on), you're kind, accepting, practice as safely as possible within you and your partners limits, you're respectful of others even if they have differing opinions/practices or beliefs, then you're as 'real' and 'true' as can be. I may not agree with you...I may not even want to spend time with you or associate with you, but I certainly won't malign you as being 'fake'.

This is a topic which I have had more than a few conversations with other Masters and slaves. So I have decided to post what I believe here and what my house believes. I know this is going to rub some of the Masters/Doms or Masters/doms the wrong way. But we here at the House Of G believe in telling the truth, regardless of the cost to ourselves. Having said this let me launch right into the topic of my posting. "Collar of consideration or under consideration collars" 1.     The first thing that comes to mind is that the Master who has placed a slave under consideration is having trouble deciding whether he wants this slave to be wearing his collar and is unable to decided if the slave should be a member of their house. 2.     The next possibility is that the Master wants to have his cake and eat it too. He wants the pleasure of controlling and using the slave, without making a commitment to the slave, thereby avoiding the responsibility of ownership. Both are fundamentally wrong. Either the slave is worthy or has the potential to be worthy of wearing the Masters collar or is not. If more time and communication is required, then the Master should do that. The undertaking of owning a slave requires that you know everything about that slave before placing your collar around their neck. If there is even the slightest of doubt or concern, then discuss your concerns with the slave. Collaring a slave is not something taken lightly. It is actually making a commitment that we and many others will agree is more serious than the wedding vows and in some cases more binding and lasting.   “The trust between Masters and Slaves is based on the same behavioral Rules that regulate social life within a herd: Those who have obtained a higher rank in the herd assume at the               same time the responsibility for the weaker members.” A Master should reveal to the slave what is expected of them if they wear the Masters collar and what their boundaries and duties will be. All of this should be discussed in great detail almost to ad nauseam. For many in this lifestyle it’s far easier to shed ones clothing and belongings than it is to open up and be revealing about your real desires. We call this being emotionally naked and it seems to be one of the hardest things that one of my slaves can learn. “I have accepted a collar.” 1. This is not dating in any vanilla sense. You may find a slave and initiate a conversation with them with the sole intention of putting the slave in your collar. Nothing is wrong with this. However, why would you, give the slave the initial upper hand in the relationship (before it even starts) with having the slave make the decision to either accept or reject your collar? By offering your collar to the slave and not waiting until the slave asks for it, has not the “Topping from the Bottom” already begun?   2. It is the Master who will structure, dictate, and control the parameters of the relationship not the slave. Hence it is the Master, not the slave, who will really do the bulk of the work in making the relationship successful or not. 3. The slave has a simple, yet complex duty ... please the desires and will of the Master. The slave does what it is told, how it is told, when it is told, without hesitation, remorse or embarrassment.  4. In reality, it is the slave who should offer themselves to the Master for enslavement and collaring. NOT the other way around. You're not seeking the slave to "take home to your mother." You're not seeking them to place an engagement ring on their finger. While that may happen at some point, it is not the primary goal. The goal is to help the slave become the best slave it can be and to guide them to that end.  5. You want that slave, kneeling, naked at your feet, ready and willing to serve you with every fiber of their being to satisfy and please your desires.  I have never offered a collar to a slave. I was blessed to have a lifestyle couple with many years of experience act as my mentors when I first entered this lifestyle, and along the way I have had the opportunity to work with and meet some great Masters, who have all pitched in and helped with my education and mindset. But the main thing I have learned is the differences between the structure of a vanilla relationship and the structure of the Master/slave relationship. The commitment of a slave is on a whole different level than that of a vanilla relationship. And because the slave made it of their own free will and with the knowledge that they were surrendering all of themselves to the Master.  This bond between Master and slave is unlike any other currently known. Think about it, the Master offers a collar to the slave. The slave accepts it. Then later if the relationship or some aspect doesn't go as the slave desires, you've already given them a way out. But if they have to offer themselves to the Master, what they are saying is that they are ready to give the Master their all and that means 100% of themselves.  So let me end this by saying that the slave’s submission is not a gift. There submission is who they are and what they are. And if it is a “gift”, then the slave has certain expectations already that again reverts back to vanilla dating, that their charms (subtly translated sexuality) is something to be held in high esteem and treated as such. Yes, you can love and care for them. But their sexuality is yours and for your pleasure first. If at any point they feel that their "gift" is not that treasured by the Master, you again have given them an easy exit or even much worse a means of "topping from the bottom."   

A MERRY AND SAFE HOLIDAY SEASON TO ALL! It really sucks to say that I'm struggling right now. I know a lot of people have this perception that Dominants are always confident, without flaws, or that we've got our shit together. Hahaha! Not to burst anyone's bubble, but we're human, too. I'm not sure if I'm self-sabotaging or if this is how my depression is manifesting these days. <Blah> but a <laugh> as well. It's Christmas Eve, and though I didn't send my wish list off to Santa, maybe a bit of magic will sparkle down as he flies over. And maybe, just maybe, I'll wake tomorrow to a message in my mailbox from an intriguing s-type who's interested in being an elf-ful helping hand to a delightfully "extra" and jolly D-type. Hohoho! 🎁

Dark Chocolate can be an exotic flavor  So creamy and smooth, you desire a taste  The aroma is inviting The visual draws you in and puts you on your knees I see you salivating so eager to please  I pull you closer and utter the words breathless and moaning "oh my goodness, stay right there!" You're such a talented pet and you know ho w to please

What kind of a Dom am I? Right away you can tell that I have a sadistic side. I've often used floggers, paddles and whips on the asses of those that were mine. Flogging the ass has been my favorite, I get into a kind of zone when I get into the groove of things. I just don't wind back and let 'er rip. I will repeatedly work a small spot over and over again building up the sensitivity until it gets to that stinging phase. Sure I could just crack a whip on her, but where is the fun in that? I like to put the work in. In this instance I like to work harder, not smarter. I like a little bit of ification, humiliation and degradation. Putting my fingers in her mouth and slide them down her throat, rubbing her and my spit in her face. Place a hand on her throat and squeeze with one hand and rub that little clit with the other. Tie her up and over stimulate that clit with a strong vibrator. Messy throat fucking and gagging, I love that saliva build up. Squirting. I love that as well, and have gotten pretty good at fingering it out of her and will see how many times I can get it out of her in a session. Those were some examples of my hard side, but I also have a soft side. I can comfort her, make her feel safe and loved. Treat her kindly and sweetly. I enjoy cuddling very much, because there is that feeling of closeness that is almost hard to describe when we are in each other's arms just enjoying each other's company. A submissive with the tendencies of a little would not be a terrible thing. The spectrum of BDSM is vast, and I do not have experience in every single thing. Though one of those things I would desire more of is a sub that would enjoy anal play. I've only dipped my toes in anal sex a little bit and used butt-plugs on them, just because the girls I have been with were not all too keen in exploring it very far, which I could respect. I would enjoy delving into using larger butt-plugs, anal beads, dildos, and maybe anal fisting, but that is a big maybe because my fists are on the large side. Those are more like wants than actual needs. I am pretty much open to just about anything except for blood and shit play. There is such a thing as too messy and smelly for me.

Update december 8 2022  I don't know if anyone noticed but I was gone for a while. It wasn't by choice and I wasn't too happy about it either. What happened was I was logged out of CS (I usually never log out so I don't know why this happened) and it was impossible to log back on. In addition to user id and password the site requires a capchta, and there was none. I tried everything with no success. I wasn't sure if the problem was at my end or if Collarspace was broken. I could read but not write or in any other way take active part and I could not access my mails. After trying other browsers and other devices with the same result I figured it was Collarspace and I decided to contact support. Turned out one has to be logged in to do so, so no help to be found there. All I could do was wait and hope for someone to notice and do something about it. Meanwhile I lost some people hanging in the middle of our conversations without a clue to why I didn't reply. So here goes: I didn't ghost you! I was locked out! Happy Hollidays! (In case I don't update this until next year.)

When any male decides to go to a Slave Master to become a gay, submissive, life-time slave it needs to be thoroughly and properly broken down from all it's humanity it thought it had in it's life before going to a Slave Master . Once the slave is broken and reduced it can then be trained as a slave and once properly trained as a slave it will be ready to serve any Master that takes it for Permanent Ownership. From that point on there are no choices and no turning back and the slave is a slave for life. This slave is now gay and submissive and ready to serve and go where ever it's New Master takes it. it will be honored to service it's Master's Dominant Cock!!!  it will drink Master's Golden Nectar/Piss, and eagerly swallow Master's Precious Cum as often as Master demands and desires and expects   slave to follow this routine Protocol of it's Master/Owner. slave will submit without question to all body modifications Master may require. slave will perform all mandatory protocol/duties each day. slave will be grateful to it's Master for all that is required of it. This includes Master's punishments and when Master just feels like Whippingor Spanking slave for His Entertainment which also serves to remind slave of it's subjugation to Master's Dominance and Ownership. slave is a slave and has no tittle or name anymore and will always only be known as "it" or "slave"

  The pool party was in Royal OUak,  a very nice suburb of Houston.  I was admiring all the large homes with long driveways and manicured lawns.  When I arrived at the house, I pulled into the driveway and parked behind a Tesla.  I checked my face in the mirror and got out of my car.  I wore a black string bikini under a black cover up with a pair of wedges and some sunglasses.   I could hear voices, music and splashing on the other side of the privacy fence.  I opened the door and I looked around.  From my left was the back of the house that had a covered patio.  The large yard surrounded a big pool with lounge chairs and tables with umbrellas.  To the right was a tiki bar.  I headed there.   Heather called out to me , "Hey! I'm glad you made it.  Why don't you get a cocktail and chill? Bartender?  Give her whatever she wants." I smiled and asked for a hurricane.  Coming right up, he said.  I looked around and saw people enjoying the day.  Most were in or near the pool.  There was mostly a mixture of 20 and 30 somethings.  A group of four were sitting at a table enjoying a blunt.  I headed there.   Me, smiling:  Can I try? "Sure gorgeous" a handsome guy said and handed it to me.  "Hey are you that new girl I heard about?"  Me, smiling:  "Maybe!" Heather, waving to get my attention:  "Come here I want to introduce you to someone.". She led me towards the house as Jim and another man were emerging from the back.   Jim, looking at the other man:  This is the one I told you about."  This is Renee, he provides the financing for my movies. " Renee, smiling at me:  It's nice to meet you.  I heard you have a nice set of abs. May I see them? I opened my cover up and showed off my body.  I flexed my abs and instinctively did a bicep pose.   Renee, still smiling:  You have a very nice body.  Any tattoos?" Me:  "No, I'm all natural.". I glanced at Heather, smiling.   Jim, to me:  "Enjoy the party.  We'll talk later." And the two men walk back inside the house.   Heather, to me:  "Let's go swimming." And we spent the rest of the afternoon just partying and enjoying the pool.  Throughout the day I met other people in the movie business.  There was a black female actress.  A Latino male actor said hello.  I met a lighting guy, a sound guy, some grips, gaffers, a set manager, a camera man and an editor.  I had no idea what some of them did until they explained it to me.  No wonder films are so expensive.  Next, The Pitch  

Wow.. it's been forever since I posted here.  Im not even sure when journaling opened back up.  Last weekend was 1 year since my husband/ex Master passed away.  It's been a journey of refinding myself,  of re discovering independence and my own abilities to take care of "honey do" jobs around the house,  and of learning to put myself first.   I've gone back to favorite recipes I hadn't made in years because he didnt like them,  I've thrown out the foods I never liked but had because he liked them.  I've even learned to install a doggie door and a keyless entry by myself:)   And I've gone through several cycles of being mad and sad,  and mad and sad again.  I didn't like the man he became, but I will always treasure the many years with the man he used to be.  And while it's been a bumpy road,  I like this version of me that has come out of it all.   A me that wouldn't exist without the strength he gave me for years.     Be well wherever your soul rests, Daniels.

7/10/2023 It's been a long time since I updated my profile or made a journal entry so thought I would catch up a bit. I found my mate or rather she found me one evening when we were both online and onsite here. She made a snarky comment about my then profile picture which had one of my pack llamas in it. We started yacking back and forth and 3 days later met on a local walking trail with our dogs and have been together ever since. We live together in a monogamus M/s 1950s lifestyle. She takes care of me full time and I provide the income, roof over our heads and security. I retired 3 years ago so no more alarm clocks and 12 hour commute/work days! We go camping with our tent trailer either across the mountains or to the ocean several times a year. We have been going on long road trip vacations to National Parks every year or two. Last Year was a 4 week trip to 6 National Monuments and 5 National Parks in Oregon, Idaho and Utah. Lots of Lava, caves, arches, spires, hoodoos and canyons! We've been together coming up on 9 years now since we met on that walking trail. We will be together for the rest of our lives! Not bad HUH!!!

The stick shift was prominent and imposing. He knew what to do and eased it into gear. She sat turned towards him. With her left hand she softly gripped the back of his neck. With her right hand she started to unbutton his shirt.   Her attitude and demeanor softened as she directed him to drive off into the night. Not given an address, turns we’re made on her instructions. Right here, left there at the next light.   After what seemed like an eternity he was instructed to pull up a ramp to a townhouse garage and as if by magic the garage door opened and closed behind them. Mindful of carbon monoxide, he shut off the motor. The two sat for a moment in the dark both the garage door light and the interior dome lights having timed out.   Her left hand now gripped the back of his neck firmly with authority and she made her demands.   She told him he had a choice. He had to decide immediately. Get out and leave. Walk away and forget tonight ever happened, or go around and open her door with the understanding that he was surrendering his will and body to her.   He stuttered, fumbled his words and choked out an acceptance of her demands. The door opened, he helped her to her feet and she produced a latch key. From a cabinet hung on the garage wall she retrieved a black leather hood. She ordered him to put it over his head. Once in place, he realized it eye holes were covered and a rubber mouth piece similar to a scuba diving hose was forced into his mouth. She laced it tightly and he heard  a lock click around his neck. Swiftly she slid off both his jacket and shirt together. Bare chested he felt the chill of the room as she pulled his wrists behind his back and heard the handcuffs ratchet closed. She put her hands around him from behind and fondled his breasts and pinched his nipples. A low grunt escaped through the mouth piece. He could breathe freely by nose and mouth through openings designed for that purpose.

Since it takes weeks to either edit your profile or setup a new one, here's a bit of an update of what we're actively looking for since so many people who approach seem to have the wrong idea. We have been wandering down this line for a while now and its time to pull the pin. I am seeking several live-in slaves for the purpose of increasing our quality of life.  Turning my teeny 2 person household into a lovely little harem by attaining a couple worker bees. I seek those who find their meaning in serving another, and find their pleasure through submission.  This is not  about sex, or even BDSM.  It's about the beauty found in service.  Using your particular gifts to enrich the life of your master. I have a preference for women (natural or trans) and sissies, but any betas or otherwise less-than-males are welcome to apply. Of course if there are any couples who would like to apply, I am happy to speak with you as well. You will be expected to work.  There is, much to the dismay of many, no real world in which you can be caged 24/7 and fed only dog food or some silly non-sense.  That's fantasy beyond fantasy, and in the real world it is a burden upon your owner.  To have them pay for your existence, feed you, clean you, etc etc.  So yes, you will be expected to work outside the home.  There's of course other more fun responsibilities as well.  You will be expected to clean, cook, run errands, entertain, potentially serve sexually, and whatever else comes into play. You will have a schedule, expectations will be set, and you will meet them. You will exist to improve my life. And dont worry, there are benefits for you as well, future slave. Just think, youll never have to worry about anything again. Not your future, not what to do, not what to eat or how to act. Your sole focus will be on doing everything you can to make your Superiors life a better one. A simple life, a purposeful life. Thats what you need, and what I can offer to you. Must be able to live and work in Southern CA, unless you've something extraordinary to offer elsewhere. If you cannot commit to a 247 TPE, please do not message me. If you are already in SoCal or Vegas, I have special interest in you.   EDIT: It now looks like updating the journal deleted our profile information?  What a joy this site is :/

Here’s a sensual, evocative poem that embraces intimacy and desire. **Kindling** Come closer, and let silence speak,   In whispers soft, in touches sleek.   Your breath against my skin, so near,   Ignites the spark, dissolves the fear.   Fingertips trace in whispered lines,   Mapping secrets, as bodies entwine.   With each soft touch, we come undone,   Bound together 'til night is spun.   In this dark world, we’ve found our place,   Time slows to linger, breathes to taste.   The ache of longing fades to peace,   In arms that hold and will not cease.   We meet like fire, we burn like sun,   Two shadows melding, joined as one.   Lost in rhythm, a timeless flight,   In whispered heat, through endless night.    

  If you demand, expect, or require any of the above or if you have any demands at all, then you cannot be a slave. I suggest you re-think what it is you want. Then you, the submissive seek a nice Dominant who you can share the fantasy that you are a slave with. I am sure that once you agreed on terms, you will have the time of your life!!!!     Now: slaves don't get vacation, 'personal' days or 'time off' for being sick. Well, they can ONLY IF they are granted such by their Owner.   However, they have NO entitlement to such things. As a real slave you will be expected to (and here's the shocking part) actually be a slave. I know - that's just so crazy, huh?       A real slave is expected to be a slave 24/7/365. This is why slavery, real slavery, is not for everyone; or even most people for that matter.   If you are thinking: "Hey, I want to be a slave."   But you do want recognition for your service, you want to be rewarded for your efforts, you want to be treated with 'fairness', you want some variety or flavor of “equality”, respect, compassion and appreciation, then you want something other than real slavery.   What you are probably looking for is to Role-Play the part of a slave in an OTS (Other Than Slave) relationship which is great and you will definitely enjoy it with the right partner.       Similarly:   Ownership is neither a simple nor a small undertaking, beware!   An Owner assumes total responsibility for the health and well being of their slave(s).   - Some Owners love to train their property, others do not.   - Some Owner choose to have a love relation with their slave, others do not.   - Some Owners love to micro manage their property while others do not.   - Some Owners enjoy the acts of bathing, grooming, feeding, clothing, and housing their property while others do not.   No matter which aspects of Ownership you may enjoy, every aspect of a slave is your complete responsibility.   Here is a listing of the bare minimal requirements that an Owner MUST attend to, in order to maintain their slave(s):   A. Housing:   A slave requires a 'dry' living space with protection from the weather, where the temperature will be reasonable to live in.   B. Bathing and Grooming:   For health and sanitary reasons, a slave must be fully cleansed at least once per week. Whether you provide access to a shower or simply run a garden hose, the slave still must be washed, regularly. The dental care and sight of a slave are also very important for obvious reasons.   C. Feeding:   A slave must be fed on a regular basis; to maintain good health in your slave, a balanced diet of nutritional foods and plenty of water must be provided by you for your slave.   D. Physical Health:   Sun, conditioning and training a slave is one important thing, but you will incur substantial medical costs if the general health and welfare of your slave(s) are not consistently kept in mind.   An Owner must acquire more than a cursory, basic knowledge in First Aid if Owner is Sadist.   An Owner must, in fact, be prepared to handle a wide variety of physical maladies and to do proper reading regarding long term consequences of the activities he submits it's slave to.   Owning a slave is difficult, demanding and stressful. As owner, you may forget relaxation, privacy or spontaneity for a long time and be prepared to make sacrifices before your slave will be anything close to your target.  

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

I get the fact that if you don't ask for it, it is harder to find. But some people are so particular about the it they seek, that they don't give others with similar but not the same exact specifications, an opportunity. On this site, we aren't given a lot of choices as to the role we put on our profiles. Using myself as an example, I have changed my orientation from dom to sub to switch hoping to find a woman I am compatible with because I feel the person, not the role is more important. If we get along otherwise, she and I can decide which role is best for US. So many filter out potential partners for really minor reasons. It must be nice having the luxury of so many people desiring you, that you can cut some of them off without further consideration.   I guess it doesn't matter, who is going to even read this?

i just miss him so much and all I want to do is make things right between us again. I know there's alwasy a reason behind everything he does, but I have thought of all that I think it could be this time. I've admitted my wrongs, sat with his words and mulled them over extensively, and examined my behavior over the last few weeks. I've given him space the last week aside from updating him on the necessary and important things he absolutely should know, and still, not a word in response. I'm at a loss as to how to resolve this without communication and for that, he has to be willing to respond, to talk. Many would say this is not right for him to do, and I only half agree. The fuck up was mine. Entirely. I just have no idea how to prove to him that I'm sorry and intend to work on improvements and growth. It also saddens me that he has not so much as seemed at all troubled by our lack of contact. Though, I don't know this for certain, but how do you go so long with no contact with your slave if you love them as much as you say you do, and want them just as much? I'm doubting a lot lately, and losing more and more hope as the days pass.  I won't give up, though. I am his, forever. Whether he considers me his anymore or not. I just wish he would tell me, either way. Even if he still needs more time, I just want to know I am still his if I am. And I want to know if I'm not, if I'm not.  I feel like I'm in limbo, a state of purgatory. Banished from even learning my fate. It's painful. It's agonizing. It feels cruel and confusing. And it doesn't feel particularly safe, though with him, as his, I feel perfectly safe. But in this space of frozen in time, hanging limp from fated thread, I am scared. Terrified that it may be over. I've broken so many times since we last spoke. And I'm still breaking. Every fracture piercing the deepest depths of me. The knowledge that I caused this for myself? Makes his last words to me sting all the more: Enjoy the misery you bring on yourself. 

Many messages- let's addres and be clear and concise.  So many have this aversion to Dominants who are interested in transactional ects of this lifestyle and so many have been taken advantage of, hurt, scammed. I am so sorry you've put yourself in such position, except- own it and wear a helmet. If youre that desperate but only wish to live bi-curiously through your online persona, behind the security of a screen and your cowardice; please do not judge and condemn those of Us who truly are committed to who We are as dominants.  This may not be the absolute truth, it is simply My experience in over fifteen years in this particular site, lifestyle and walking in My truth and acceptance as a Dominant Woman, you seek leadership, direction, guidance, for someone else to take the responsability (often times, the burden) of where you are and guide you to be the best you can be, to serve Us. Power exchange is not, at least for Me, a kink. It is My identity, in every ect and area of of My life. So, approach with humility, accountabilit and honesty to your own self, to who and what you say you are. Do not, however, message me with aimless superficial comments, idle or vain conversation or the worst- requests as though you are pulling up a drive thru window topping from the bottom making requests and commands.    Infinite question?-" How does one earn a spot at Goddes' feet?"   Through committed, consistent actions. Bdsm aside, that’s how a man, woman( however it is you identify as)who knows who he/she is/ they are, what he/she/they is/are doing, what his/her/their purpose is and what he/she is /they are willing to be or become to get it knows the price for anything is actions for it speaks of who he/she is they are, his/her character and value. Values are simply what W/we value most above all else. Values are Priorities. The higher the priorities, higher the standard- My standards. The higher the price paid in any power exchange is and will always be submission and sacrifice of who you are through your actions, not words.  sacrifice of your time, commitment and honest and consistent actions and communication. That in itself is money, is the kind of money, finances, many here do not have  because as subs or slaves the are simply not it or are not at the level I and many dominants deserve. All is well, so lukewarm and flakes or those who revel in nice ideas and words but are not in a covenant and commitment towards who they are. Many are not even aware they are required and must take ownership of their identity. Who it is you, as a sub or slave, at best are mediocre, and at worst are cowards. so they’re filtered away by their limitations and mediocrity. Many of you discarded and ignored to continue to repeat the same level, course, process, lessons over and over and over because you are completely comfortable in your discomfort, victim hood and mediocrity whilst continue to complain why you are where you are, why you suffer, for you do not see that is you who limits yourself. Without said self revelation and acceptance, there cannot be space for the discipline and obedience to your own self as a submissive, slave. Taking ownership, accountability and responsibility of this self awareness is to be committed and loyal to who it is you are at your core and pay whatever price necessary; whether it is parts of yourself, to be transformed, upgraded, or simply let go and let die so your true self can be liberated through deed. This is one very finite answer to what I mean by “earn a spot at Goddess’ feet”- at any dominants feet quite frankly.   We are what W/we give and in return what W/we are and give is also what is returned to U/us ten fold. To serve is a privilege that requires sacrifice and courage, to give is also to receive. Both are one and the same. For Me? This is the standards I adhere and live by- so whatever is done for Me I know is the minimum for I know who and what as a sub or slave with trust, committed actions and guidance My subs have flourished and transformed into their own personal and professional lives. 

Everyone criticizes CM but I like this site.  I've heard people complain that there are no genuine lifestyle dominants. I've had waaaay more success making real time connections on CM than on any other site.  I've met several awesome lifestyle male dom/sub couples and other female dominants (with a couple that I know personally who are LOCAL non-pro and looking for personal relationships).  These are folks we hang out with regularly who are terrific people in addition to being lifestyle. I also communicate with a small number of non-pro Ladies in other cities. I've also met a few local quality male subs who are genuine submissive gentlemen and who fit my very stringent requirements for distance and fitness level. I've played with a few as well and even when it didn't necessarily become a "relationship" I've maintained a friendship with them and invite them to events or gatherings.  I've even visited a couple of them and stayed in their homes when I was in their area for events such as Tampa's Fetcon. Yes, I have to weed out the morons looking to wank just like anyone. I also communicate with a few out-of-town boys who have cam verified and talk about making a visit to my area. We'll see. So, why is everyone so down on CM?  While I imagine that the experience is very different for a male sub, but is it THAT bad?  Are there other sites that have been so much better for you?  I met my current sub via ALT years ago...which I'm no longer active on, too commercialized.  I met the other boy that I've been training since August 2011 via CM. It DOES happen.  

I figured I should come back and do a follow-up to my previous post about successes. It was not a success. But I guess it was a learning experience. Long distance is always an issue, but more so because it's nearly impossible to really know how honest someone is being when you can't actually see them in real time. It's easy to say this or that isn't a problem when you aren't in that situation. Its easy to say you are doing something when no one can see otherwise. And it's easy to let yourself believe someone is who they say they are when they don't actually have to prove it in real time.  No one wants to believe they are lying to themselves about who they are. I don't think this person intended to be dishonest with us, so much as they wanted to believe they were able to be that person FOR us, and thought they had done enough work to pull it off. I think that maybe they hadn't really considered everything fully, even though that was what we consistently discussed. And I think that my rules about recreational drugs and mental health will have to be 100% held to, and not let slide on technicalities or softened just because someone talks a good game in other areas. Self-analysis and deep thinking aren't enhanced by substances intended to "take the edge off," and one's ability to face hard truths gets padded by it, so the hard truths look a lot softer and fuzzier through the smoke colored lenses. Unfortunately, when the fuzzy wears off, and reality sets in, everything looks very different, and suddenly all the thinking is un-padded. That buffer of artificial happy is gone, the work that should have happened beforehand is still needing to be done. And now, they were here, so it had to happen in real time, not gently eased into over however long it would take to do it gracefully. All the easy vaporizes, and honesty gets REALLY FUCKING HONEST really fast without all the distance to hide behind. And to be even more honest - although everyone wants to insist that who they are under the influence is still them, there are always significant differences. Since all we had known till then was this person under said influence, both of substance and of unrealistic expectations, in the absence of those things, it felt like we were suddenly dealing with a total stranger, with whom none of the prior negotiation applied. There was acting out, there was sullenness, there were passive aggressive behaviors, and there were attempts at emotional manipulation. All of which I tried to defuse, discuss, and handle with the same level of communication and ethics that had come before they arrived, which unfortunately, as they were no longer really thinking or feeling the same as before, all failed to help them re-center themselves. It in fact made it worse, because they apparently were not actually capable of what was being asked - the calm, realistic consideration of what they wanted long term, in order to re-negotiate and regain the long-term view of the previously stated goals. They could not let go of their focus on their immediate desire for a physical and emotional gratification, in order to secure the possibility of probable long-term gratifications.  In the end, what went wrong was what always goes wrong- short sighted, low level thinking, lack of actual effort and lack of serious thought. While they SAID they were doing these things, and they SAID they valued what we valued, etc, in the end, while they did more, and better than others have in the past, they didn't actually DO it so much as give better effort at faking it.

Cheeky Observation:   Are some men merging the lines between the back-packing hostel lifestyle with submission? I am noticing men from Europe and India contact me and claim to be submissive. I also notice they have this assumption they can stay with me in some kind of exchange student lifestyle with no plan as to how they settle in the UK or how they are going to get a job. No women dominant or submissive wants to deal with that sort of nonesense. Regardless if your submissive or dominant you can still behave like a decent respectable man. 1. Being submissive does not mean you don't hold manly values 2. It just means lean towards a gentle nature, it does not mean your a freeloading tramp. If your looking for a back-packing lifestyle please just contact the YMCA, contact some Bistro's looking for extra kitchen staff but don't expect me to be impressed if that is your lifestyle.    

So, this is working now, is it? This site is weird, but hopefully I can post somthing here without sending my profile off to limbo for another few years. Anyway, consider this an addition or replacement to what's in my profile, as appropriate: Lockdown's given me a chance to think more about who I am and what I'm looking for and I'm interested in discovering more about Female Led Relationships (FLRs) and the women who lead them. It's the mental and psychological side of it that interests me more than the physical part of it. I want to know what it's like to give yourself to serve and follow another, and if I'm capable of that level of giving myself or devotion to another. When i read stories of submission and dominance, it's the mindset of the submissive that interests and arouses me, not the physical element. That doesn't mean I'm not interested in the physical side of submission and surrender, but it's not my primary interest. I'm interested in finding someone to connect with for a relationship, but also friends and people who want to chat. I'm monogamous in relationships, I know people who are poly and it works for them, but I'm really not sure I could deal with the logistics of being involved with more than one person, let alone the emotional side of it. What am I interested in most of all? Knowing things, learning new things and discovering things about the world, especially the people that fill it, and especially myself because even after all this time I still don't even come close to understanding everything that goes on in inside my mind. I definitely don't think I'll ever understand everyone else, or the world, but it's fun to try and understand as much as I can. I'd be happy getting to know someone here who makes me want to write and think more, to discuss and explore everything and anything together be it sexual or not. I don't really mind if you're next door (well, I know my neighbours, and it would be a bit of a surprise if you were) or on the other side of the world, if your interested in getting to know each other, I'm happy to fire interesting messages back and forth.

1/25/25 Are there Dommes of quality in New England or NYC?     As I have said in my profile, I'm nominally a dominant man, very much the take-charge sort of person, and have fully explored D/s as a MDom. I was hoping that there would be a few Dommes who could make my head spin, my heart race, and shift my libido into overdrive. Someone to make me want to throw caution to the wind and put myself in your hands, kneel and worship you.     Sadly, the landscape is pretty barren, barely out of school “dommes’ who want money, or others who wouldn’t catch my eye on the street. Engage my mind as well as my libido and I will worship and please you as only a well-rounded, complete man can.  

Journal Entry: Why Some Women Choose Slavery I have often reflected on why some women willingly choose to live as slaves in a Master/slave household. To outsiders, it may appear confusing—why would anyone want to surrender control of their own life? But when viewed through the lens of trust, devotion, and purpose, the answers reveal themselves clearly. For many women, there is a deep longing to be free from the constant burden of decision-making and responsibility that the modern world demands. In slavery, there is clarity. A slave’s role is defined, her place is secure, and her purpose is to serve. This surrender of control is not weakness—it is a relief. In letting go, she discovers freedom from doubt and hesitation, and in service, she finds strength and fulfillment. There is also the matter of intimacy. When a woman gives herself fully, she allows herself to be seen in her most vulnerable and honest state. No masks. No pretenses. In that surrender, bonds are formed that are deeper than most will ever know. To be owned is to be cherished, and for many women, the knowledge that their Master claims them as His gives them a sense of belonging they have always sought. Growth comes, too, from the challenges of slavery. The training, the discipline, the demands of service—all of these shape her into something stronger. She learns to endure, to obey, to strive for excellence. In pleasing her Master, she also proves something to herself: that she is capable of devotion, of transformation, of becoming more than she thought she could be. And perhaps the greatest reward is devotion itself. To give one’s life, heart, and soul to another, without reservation, brings a sense of completeness. Some women long to dedicate themselves fully, and in slavery they find the purest expression of loyalty and love. Their submission is not a loss—it is the path that brings them peace. This is why some women choose slavery in a consensual M/s environment. Not because they are weak, but because they are strong enough to surrender. Not because they lack value, but because they find value in being claimed, used, and cherished. And in that, they are fulfilled.

The Particular Ache of an Empty House I have been thinking about doors lately. The specific quality of a door that opens onto something waiting for you, the difference between entering a space that is simply empty and entering one that has been prepared, held in a certain state of readiness by someone whose entire orientation for the hours you were gone has been toward your return. I know that difference in my body. I have lived on both sides of it, and I will not pretend they feel anything alike.   Right now I come home to silence. It is my silence, my space, maintained to my standards because I maintain it myself, and there is nothing wrong with it except that it is inert. A room that has not been thinking about me. A kitchen that holds no evidence of anticipation. A threshold that does not know the difference between my arrival and any other event in the day. I cross it and the space simply continues being what it was, indifferent, unchanged, requiring nothing of either of us.   I miss the other kind of threshold with a specificity that surprises me sometimes.   I miss the quality of a home that has been tended. Not cleaned in the transactional sense, though that too, but tended in the way that a person tends something they care about, with attention to what it is for and who it belongs to. The particular arrangement of a room that tells you someone has been thinking about your comfort in your absence. The light already correct. The temperature already what you prefer. The small and specific details of your own preferences reflected back at you by a space that has been held, carefully, in your image while you were elsewhere inhabiting the world.   I miss being known before I speak.   There is a warmth to genuine devotion that I do not think translates to anyone who has not felt it, because it reads from the outside as service and from the inside as something closer to being loved in the most precise and practical language available. Not the warmth of sentiment, though there is that too, but the warmth of competence directed entirely at your ease. Of someone who has studied you carefully enough that your needs arrive met before you have finished forming them into requests. That warmth is not loud. It does not announce itself. It simply exists as the temperature of the space around you, slightly and unmistakably above what the world outside provides.   I think about coming home after a hard day, the specific hard days that my body produces without my permission, the ones where the pain has been a sustained and wearing presence since morning and the outside world has asked more of me than I had available and I have given it anyway because that is what I do. I think about what it would mean to cross a threshold into a space that already knew. Where the bath had been drawn, not because I asked but because someone understood the day I was having and had moved to meet me in it. Where the room was quiet and the lighting considered and the particular tea I need when I am worn down was already steeping to the correct minute.   Where someone was waiting, not with needs of their own to present or words requiring response, but simply with presence. The warm and steady presence of a person whose purpose, in that moment, is entirely my restoration.   I built that once. I know how to build it. I know what it requires, and what it produces. I know the specific quality of peace that settles into a body that has been genuinely, competently received by someone who considers receiving you their greatest privilege.   Kahlil Gibran wrote that work is love made visible. The devotion I am describing is exactly that: love made visible not in declarations but in the ten thousand small and correct things that together produce a life that feels held. The right cup. The considered room. The hands that know where it hurts without being told. The presence that asks nothing and gives everything and finds in the giving its own complete satisfaction.   I am building toward it again. This quiet house is a temporary condition, a chapter rather than a conclusion, and I know this with the certainty of a woman who understands the difference between where she is and where she is going.   But tonight I notice the silence, and I name what it is missing, and I let myself want it fully and without apology.   The warmth of a home that has been thinking about me is always on my mind.

Just a quick amused note here. I have a 'no Drump supporters, past or present' on my profile for a reason. I also have no smokers, no addicts, no cheaters, etc. The only group that feels it's important to send me hate filled messages are the Trumpers. Kinda confirms my views of you I've never met anyone from that side of things that wasn't hiding deep violent hate, or wasn't lacking the intellect to see the problems that are right there. It's not about him. It's about who you are that lets you be ok with him So yeah, send me threats and insults. Helps me sift out and block you faster.

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

It has been years since I've been on here. I left because the ability to journal was no longer an option. Apparently it has been restored!! This past Summer someone who first viewed me here, found me on Fet.  He remembered my profile and reached out. I was not looking to find someone. And pretty much saw  myself as content to be alone. It was a fluke that I went on Fet , after 1.5 years. Just as I am on here for several years away.  Presently,  I am in a lovely dynamic, with a very good Dom.  He and I see the world and more through  similar lenses. While a new dynamic, I feel so comfortable.  We fit. It is not easy to find someone who has similar,  faith, politics, perspective on D/s , and compatibility, as well as have vanilla life be a great fit too. We have found the needle in the stack of needles!    I appreciate this man very much, and can see myself with him , I can see a future. Tony I am yours, through thick and thin,  I have your 6 and feel the same. You have my heart ❤    M.

The Gift Pt 2 I first met a male Dom couple at the West Texas event.  He was an older gentleman with a grey ponytail.  His kink was the cane. He always had one with him wherever he went.  He was married to his sub, an olive skinned red head.  While my Domme and him talked, his sub saw me sunbathing on a bench nearby.  My eyes were closed as I soaked in the sun in my white string bikini.  She walked over to me and said. "Mm, mm, mm."   I opened my eyes and glanced to my left and I saw her smiling face admiring my body.   So your her sub? She asked.    Yea I replied.  Is that your Dom talking to her?   Uh huh. It's nice to finally meet you.    Months later we saw each other again at the SW Leather convention in Dallas. We wanted to go to the host hotel because there was a pool and I wanted to go swimming and attend a small meet and greet going on in the hotel courtyard. The area was set up for a cookout and a pot luck. So I spent time making sure my Domme was comfortable and got her something to drink.    Most of the small group there belonged to the Dallas group. There were several couples and half a dozen singles. I knew everyone by their IRC handles so it was nice meeting everyone face to face.l for the first time. The male Dom couple we met was also there.  So we sat at a picnic table talking.  Someone started the grill to cook hamburgers.     My Domme turned to me and said.  I want you to go cook some burgers.  Take off your clothes and make yourself useful.    Ok I replied.    I stripped down to my bikini.  That day I was wearing one of my favorite suits.  It was a brightly colored Brazilian string bikini.  It was very thin on the sides and high on the hips. I go to the grill and start placing burgers on it.  My presence there was a bit awkward for me.  I could feel eyes on me from everyone there.  I tried to ignore the attention and focus on the grill.    Pop! Pop!    The grease from the patties were spewing hot oil and some landed on my skin.    Ouch! I cried. What the hell!    I could hear snickering.  Psst! I hear.  My Domme held out an apron.  Put this on.  I walked over to the table and took the apron to put it on.     Have you ever watched those safari shows on TV where the lions are watching a gazelle in the brush?   I felt like that as the Dom watched me put the apron on and tie it around my waist.  His gaze kind of threw me off and I felt a bit shy.  Later on we hit the pool where my Domme made sure I was oiled up and on display in front of her chaise lounge.    It was a fun day. The convention was awesome and the event went well.