If all You're doing is collecting pics, just ask. i'm an exhibitionist and happy to send You non-identifying images that You can use as wank fodder or whatever You do with them. If You want to mock and humiliate me because of my physical attributes, that's fine too --- i'm an emotional as well as a physical masochist.  What i don't appreciate is somebody who leads me on and gets me hopeful that i may have found somebody who's serious about developing a true M/s or D/s relationship and who, after messaging back and forth and me sending pics, disappears, erases their profile and whom i never hear from again. That's both rude and cruel.  Thank You.

My Friend sent me this to proof read for his discussion of Slave vs Submissive Women. Enjoy  There are several distinctions and differences between a submissive and a slave. I will take the term submissive first. A submissive is a person with an intense desire to serve that does so under some conditions. The conditions would typically include terms of service, length of service, which areas of the submissives' life the dominant does not get to control, what the hard and soft limits are when they play or just interact, and of course the safe word. In many ways the submissive controls play. Hard limits are activities that a dominant will not be able to indulge with the submissive. Hard limits broken would lead to the end of a scene, relationship or arrangement and a serious breach of trust. Soft limits are limits that can be broken, but only after it has been discussed with the submissive. These are things the submissive is not excited about doing, but will try if it seems to excite the dominant or causes some latent excitement and fear in the submissive as well. The safe word ends all play. The dominant has free reign as long as he or she stays within the set limits. After a scene, many submissives go back to controlling their own lives. They slip in and out of the role of submissive in most cases. They continue to make their own decisions and even in a 24/7 situation will continue to control those areas of their lives that are off limits to the dominant. A submissive submits every time a scene starts or some activity where the dominant has been given control commences. The choice is hers or his every single time the dominant requires submission. A submissive can walk away from a scene because something is not working for them and completely slip out of role whenever they feel the need to discuss something about the situation with their dominant. This does not indicate a lack of the need to submit or serve though. Now we turn to the slave - the consensual slave. The slave gives up all rights to make their own decisions, becomes the "property" of a Master or Mistress, takes on the limits of their Master or Mistress and does what is asked of them regardless of their feelings about it. Sometimes a slave will give up all rights to property of their own and will continue to work for the household, having to ask permission to use any money they earn. Slaves earn privileges and do not have rights. A slave submits once - when the collar is placed around his or her neck and when something is difficult, has to ask for help to accomplish it. Slaves are not kept in basements or locked away forever. They are strong people who have an intense desire to please another human being and now has the freedom to live that desire and not have to submit to anyone else but those chosen by their Master or Mistress. Taking on the limits of another means that slaves have to ensure that the limits of the dominant they are talking to matches theirs, as their only choice is choosing the dominant. It is responsible to make sure that the person does match them or their preferences. Can a slave be sold to another? No, most Masters or Mistresses would never do that. Remember this is consensual slavery, a 24/7 arrangement with one person fully in control and another person obeying all the commands and wishes expressed by the other because both of them want this. There is often a lot of love involved in this type of relationship as well. There are mock slave auctions that are used as fund raisers in the community, and slaves would go and serve another man or woman for the evening, but they always go back to the person they chose to be with. Can a slave end a relationship? Yes, they can petition their dominant for release and no responsible dominant would say no if nothing could be done to heal the relationship. The difference between the two does not make one better than the other. I have seen countless submissives that serve as beautifully and perfectly as some slaves do and prefer not to be called slaves because of the negative connotation to that word. I have also seen many wannabe slaves struggle until they eventually found their place as submissives. It is difficult to devote one's entire life to another person but it is also incredibly rewarding.  

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

A slave define destiny ; A slave surrenders all its human rights and civil liberties and indeed it has no real need of them. The slave is after all just a mere nonentity that is the owned property of its lawful owner. A slave is not its owners spouse, lover, friend, associate, colleague; it is its owners owned property...period. The slave cannot say what it pleases, do what it pleases or go where it pleases. It can only do what it is told and go where it is told.  Being a slave is by no means an easy option in life. A slave must have plentiful labor to keep it busy during the day so it’s never really idle.  Some owners require it to endure painful suffering in order to alleviate their own stressful anxieties and/or to enhance their three dimensional cathartic euphoria and improve and maintain their general well being. Even when safety is ensured it is no easy task for the slave to endure.  it has been the custom and tradition for a slave to be kept completely in various types of restraint to restrict but not prevent movement. Such restraints have varied but included shackles, locked or soldered collars, locked chastity restraints. These have served a purpose of demonstrating to the slave and to others that it is property that owns and has access to nothing of its own and that it is completely owned and under the absolute power of its designated owner. It also additionally served to reinforce the slavery through humiliation, degradation and subjugation.    When it comes to clothing there is little room for compromise. Clothing for a slave is a privilege and slaves clothing is chosen for them, they embrace the Masters desires plain and simple . Failure to adopt this simple rule will give the slave ideas above his station.    A slave belongs to its owner and is on the periphery of its owner’s life, not at the center of the owner’s life. It places a servile and support function role only. Its conduct in slavery must be impeccable and it must never ever let its owner down.  A slave is never allowed to look at its owner's face.  A slave should never ever have access to the same luxuries that a freeborn person has. It should be housed in a small locked room or a cage when it is resting or sleeping or otherwise not required. Adequate heating and ventilation provided along with food and drink and mobile toilet facilities during its confinement stay.  Once owned the slave should not have any further contact with family or friends nor should it watch television, listen to the radio, read newspapers, periodicals, books, use the computer, or telephone and write to anyone. It also has no right of complaint about its treatment as a slave or any right of appeal to a third party.  It is property that is owned and so it must remain. Once negotiations have ceased and agreement reached about the parameters of the said slavery, the slave itself must offer itself unconditionally and not place any hindrance in the way of its owner’s legitimate right to use her owned property as she herself chooses within the agreed parameters.   

From my group  -re-sharing here - Why language matters. Or, Darmok and Jalad. Jan 30, 2019 I had a reminder this week, (not that this week is that unusual, but some cases are more extreme than others) at how important it is to have a common language in any interaction we have with others. Most of our lives, the average American at least walks around hearing English, speaking English, reading English, and assuming they understand what other people are saying. And vice versa - they assume they are understood. And yet, so much of our attempts to communicate end in misfires.  Often, it's because we don't really care enough about the interaction, and we glide along on autopilot, comfortable in the status quo quality of our interactions. We are usually getting enough of what we need out of it that we often don't even question it. Often, if there's a problem, we make a scene to make it clear that no, that's NOT what we meant, or that isn't what was said to us, etc but unless we feel slighted, or it leads to the loss of something we DO value - a comment made here that loses us a promotion, or a question not answered loses someone's interest, or a tone of voice makes us concerned for a possible loss of status- unless it's serious, it's just anger and fuss and it's over. THEN, it may become a real issue, worth some thought, but by then, it's really too late. The miscommunication has happened, the thought process it started it under way, and a feeling has been had, etc.  Stick with me here.  At it's most basic level, language is how we express a thought. It's pretty common to believe that most of the time, other people from a similar area have similar thoughts to our own about a general variety of things. We expect that they want the same basic things, because we are all human, and most of the people we deal with were raised similarly, and had similar experiences. And that they will use the same words as we do to describe them. That's where the screeching halt comes in.  "Most adult native test-takers range from 20,000–35,000 words." That's a decent vocabulary. It should mean that most of us that speak English will have plenty of words in common to have a discussion and be understood with enough clarity to make it through most common joint activities.  That said, most people don't tend to think too deeply about words themselves. Which means when you start to want more than just "enough to get by" conversation, things can get a bit complicated. And in cases where you need to negotiate something VERY specific, in depth, such as the fine details of kink or what our limits are... suddenly, your vocabulary will not only need to grow, but become very precise.  I'm not seeing that as often as I would expect from the letters I receive. In fact, the majority of people that write me seem frustrated by the need for words at all, and irritated by the requirement that we spend some time talking about anything that isn't a deion of a sex act. Which baffles me... if you are wanting someone to tie you up, do ... THINGS ... to you, while you are helpless, etc, wouldn't you REALLY REALLY want to make sure that the things they want to DO are the same things you want DONE? Wouldn't you be DEEPLY interested in making sure they are the kind of person that honors your Safe Word, or who shares your definition of "honest," or who won't just walk off with your wallet and DVD player while you are tied down, or who won't turn out to be straight up batshit nuts?  I've had another rash of "own me" messages. Interspersed of course with the regular "total sub" offers.  The topic at hand isn't the "I'm a TOTAL sub!" who responds to "ok, go read this for me and tell me what you think" with "What? That's not what I want! I'm a SEXUAL submissive!" Or even the "i want to be ur slave" that can't obey enough to respond to an email on time.  This topic is about the problem that causes that problem in the first place.  I received one this week from a very pretty dick pic with an empty profile that did read enough to call me Domina, but obviously nothing else, so I sent a link to the "First Impressions" thread, and followed with "Consider Your Target Audience." You can guess how it went. Before he got to "Bye, Bitchhhhhh!" he told me he wanted me to "own" him. And he referred to himself as "very kinky like to be watched ! Masterbaiting live turns me on" (Yes, that's how he spelled it.) Meh. No great loss.  Later, sissy under consideration asked if I was at all interested by Dick Pic Guy. Aside from the obvious stunted mentality of thinking his naked dick somehow mattered, he was a good tool to explain the problem of common language/vocabulary.  While being turned on by being watched is very common, and whatever floats your boat, etc that he described himself as very kinky based on that was a VERY clear indicator that we weren't even speaking the same language in regards to kink. Much like the majority of the people that write me, he had an interest in something, and had set out to pursue that, and as it wasn't mainstream, they thought it must mean they were REALLY out there crazy kinky. (Hell, ex-husband number two thought anal was the height of twisted and kinky.) Now, obviously, there was no actual interest in submission, or desire to actually be owned, so there was no point in even considering trying to have a conversation.  However, if there actually HAD been interest, if he had just been a newbie and without clue, there would have been this huge gap of vocabulary to fill in before we could have ever tried to talk about anything more than "go for coffee, get spanked." Before we could get to "what turns you on" there would have had to be the initial "what do you know so far, what have you read, what have you tried" just to see what he MEANT by "kinky" or "spanking" or even "turned on." Did "turned on" specifically mean sexually aroused and only that? Does "masterbaiting" (sorry, but OMG LOLOL) just mean "wrap your hand around your dick and rub up and down with or without lube" because it could mean SO FUCKING MUCH MORE to someone else, and in my mind, doesn't always necessarily include anything physical. Ownership? If we haven't even discussed what the word "submissive" means in depth, how can we possibly try to define "Owned" yet? Are we talking an actual legal arrangement with signed contracts and documentation as regards to property, or do you just like the way the word sounds?  Because that matters to me. All of the delicate nuances of meaning hold POWER. Consent is POWER. I absofuckinglutely want to feel like I OWN you, down to your last molecule, if I am going to have that, and we have to figure out exactly how many molecules you have to give for that to happen.  "You just offered an unknown amount of you don't know what to a total stranger."  If you are handing out candy from a bag in your hand, "take it all" is easy. And taking that whole bag may be easy. Hell, I like candy. Maybe I'll want your candy. However - If you actually have a whole trunkful of candy, and you say "take it all" without sharing that "all" may be a couple hundred pounds of confection, that is going to make a difference. Do I like that candy enough to want a whole trunkful? Will it get stale long before I can eat it all? Are you going to throw a tantrum if I share that candy with a park full of kids, or is it truly mine, to do with as I please? Are you going to pout if I toss i

Sissy Bimbo Journal Entry: Hello, darlings! 💕✨ This is your cute little bimbo sissy, just putting it out there: I’m ready and begging to be used in any and every way that pleases you! I’ve totally embraced my role as the ultimate sissy toy, and I am always eager to fulfill every hardcore fantasy you have in mind. My mind is nothing but pink, sparkles, and submission, and I’m craving the chance to be molded, trained, and pushed to my limits. 💖 Ultimate Bimbo Doll Training 💖 I’m fully ready to be turned into the perfect bimbo doll, trained to speak, move, and think in the way you desire. Take control of my wardrobe, my body, and my entire mindset—teach me to be the obedient, mindless bimbo you crave, with nothing in my head except the need to please. 💋 Public Play Object 💋 Imagine me out in public, dressed in the skimpiest outfits you choose, completely exposed to everyone’s gaze. I’m ready to be humiliated, shown off, and paraded around like the little sissy I am. I’ll follow any command you give me, no matter how embarrassing or degrading. 🔒 Chastity and Control 🔒 Lock me up and hold the key to my most private parts—I don’t deserve any pleasure unless it’s from you. You can decide when, where, and how (or if) I’m ever allowed to feel pleasure. Keep me teased and denied, desperate and begging, while you revel in the control you have over my helpless, needy body. 🔨 Degradation Play 🔨 I’m nothing but a sissy bimbo, ready to be verbally torn down and reduced to the lowest possible level of worth. Humiliate me, call me worthless, make me feel like the trashy toy I was meant to be, and I’ll love every second of it. I’ll wear any degrading outfit, repeat any humiliating phrase, and sink into complete mental submission under your control. 🩺 Medical and Sissy Transformation 🩺 Feel free to turn me into your personal project—use me for extreme body transformation fantasies. From forced feminization to body modifications, I’m here for it all. Shape me, mold me, make me the ultimate sissy that exists to fulfill your twisted fantasies. 🖤 Total Objectification 🖤 I exist to be used. You can treat me as an inanimate object—whether that means being your human furniture, your pet, or something more extreme. Use me however you want. I have no thoughts, no desires, no goals except to be a perfect plaything for those who crave power over me. So, if you’re looking for the ultimate sissy bimbo who lives to be used, abused, and degraded, I’m here, fully willing and desperate to be the toy you desire. Let’s explore your wildest, most hardcore fantasies together—I promise I’m ready for anything. 💄👠 Message me and let’s make your most extreme dreams come true. I’m here to serve, sissy bimbo style! 💕💋 Love and submission, Your Little Sissy

When we kiss When we kiss Bears and boulders Vibrate through the air i will probably do a whole post on laura veirs. her songs are little girl and softcore approved. but this song when i heard it over 10 years ago..this is love. just a simple share.   When you sing When you sing Stars fill up my eyes   Galaxies Pour down my cheeks Galaxies   Galaxies They flood the street Galaxies   When we dance When we dance Eels and sea grass float on by   I? m ten thousand leagues Beneath the sea Ten thousand leagues   Ten thousand leagues Beneath the green Ten thousand leagues   When we kiss When we kiss Bears and boulders Vibrate through the air   Gravity Is dead you see No gravity   All I need Is beating red No gravity   No gravity No gravity   No gravity No gravity   No gravity No gravity  

After talking with someone on here recently I've done a lot of thinking about my desire to submit and be bound. I had never really thought about how long I've felt that way or why. Looking back on my teen years I think I've always had a fascination with restraint. My first sexual dream revolved around me getting "caught" and bound up. Looking back I have a few memories where even when I was younger there was something about being restrained that appealed to me. Now, as an adult, I think my feelings now are rooted in my desire to be helpless. I'm fortunate enough to have had a safe life, and I've never been in a bad scenario where I was in significant danger, and I suspect that may have something to do with it. Regardless, I think my root desire is to be helpless, forced to trust another person and do what they say. Something about giving into that power and giving up total control is what I really want. i don't know fully, just been thinking about it recently and these are my first thoughts. Thanks everyone for teaching me more and helping me explore these feelings!

Chickens and eggs, carts before horsesBigSigh .. 1st visit, Excellent.  2nd, smh .. Idk which was more detrimental,The combo of miscommunication and misrepresentationor My own error in not insisting on sticking to My original plan anywayBut was led to believe it would be integrated ..  however, wasnt .Then today a previously hidden but suspected piece of the puzzle was revealed, and now the whole pictures clearer, but lost much of its allure.. Shame, bc the issues wouldnt have been issues if theyd just been discussed, and or handled better. Wish it all had been .. ah well.. smh .. hindsight sux Only bright side Im capable of coming up with atm is; they keep weeding themselves out quick as spit 

On Memorial Day and the Cost of Everything It is Memorial Day weekend and I am sitting in my home doing the math that everyone I know is also doing, the specific and dispiriting arithmetic of gas prices against destination against what is left after the bills, and arriving at the same answer everyone else is arriving at: we are staying home. Again. The freedom that this holiday is nominally about feeling somewhat theoretical when the cost of driving anywhere meaningful has become its own small act of financial courage. I want to be clear that I am not unaware of what this day is actually for. I hold that with genuine respect. But I am also a mother of two boys who wanted to do something, anything, that felt like a holiday, and the gap between what I wanted to give them and what the current state of the world permits is sitting on me today with more weight than usual. Everything costs more. Everything. The casual ease of loading the boys into a car and driving somewhere that feels like summer, the small luxuries that make an ordinary Monday into a memory, all of it has been quietly repriced into something that requires calculation rather than spontaneity. I find this exhausting in the specific way that financial friction always exhausts me, not because I cannot manage it but because I should not have to manage it alone, and I do, and days like today make that aloneness more visible than usual. Which brings me to the fantasy, because this is also that kind of space, and the fantasy is not elaborate. It does not require Greece or a villa or anything that could not exist in my own home with the right person in it. I imagine waking up to someone who has already been awake for an hour, who has already thought about this day and what it should contain and has moved quietly through the early morning making it real. The kitchen already holding the smell of something good. The boys' day already considered and provided for, the small things that make children feel that a day is special, the particular attention to what they love that communicates someone has been thinking about them specifically. I imagine being handed my coffee exactly right and being told, not asked, that today I have nothing to manage. That it has been handled. That my only instruction for the day is to be present and comfortable and let the holiday actually feel like one. We would not need to go anywhere expensive. The backyard transformed by someone who understands that atmosphere is created by attention rather than budget. Good food prepared with care, the kind of effort that communicates love in the most practical language available. The boys absorbed and happy, their holiday delivered to them by someone who considered what they specifically would enjoy, not a generic child but these two particular boys with their particular enthusiasms and their particular humor, someone who has paid enough attention to know the difference. And me, in the middle of all of it, actually resting. Actually present without also being the logistics coordinator and the entertainment director and the person holding every thread simultaneously. Sitting in the sun in something pretty with a cold drink that appeared without my asking for it, watching my children have a good day that someone else made possible, feeling for once on a holiday like the holiday includes me rather than being produced by me. That is the whole fantasy. Its simplicity is the point. Instead I will do what I always do, which is make the best of what is available through the force of my own creativity and the particular determination of a mother who refuses to let her children feel the weight of what is missing. We will make it good. We will find the celebration inside the limitations, because that is what I do, and I am very good at it, and my boys will not know what was absent because I will not let them see it. But I know. And on the days that are supposed to be restful, the knowing is the thing that costs the most. Happy Memorial Day. To those who served, genuinely, thank you. To the rest of us making it work on a budget with children who deserve more than the math currently allows: I see you. We are doing fine. We are always doing fine.   I am simply tired of fine being the ceiling. It's more than tiredness, now. It's exhaustion, but exhaustion doesn't befit a Goddess... I long for all the softness the world has to offer. 

I’m funny, strong, sick and alone. I wear a sold-thick mask. Only i choose who will get to see my truth and when. Today and tonight are hard. I don’t like where I am or how I am. I feel desperate for dick for a, tongue even teeth. My neck is naked and breasts - nipples are tingling . Even fat there are places you can feel bones. My ass is high and wide easy to spread and enter. Go slow so we both feel you break through that first sphincter- oh so good, you’ll decide when to do that again. The feeling is pleasure but also demonstrates your power over me. Put me on my belly, lay me on my back, cl my hands and ride me like I’m a horse- hold me down whisper into my ear, bite my skin and enjoy me, long and hard, mmmm. By now my cunt has created a puddle of my juices. Lips are wide gapping open waiting to be entered, i moan as you hit my back wall and I clench as i cum and again. You hit my crevicx, oh my breath pushes out of me. I am cuming again and again. Vagina spasms over and over. I clench down and hold you. You look confused, i laugh and let you go. You turn me over and we kiss passionately you reach up and put a hand on my throat, a bit harder as i slip into subspace. You let go, my eyes are glassy and I smile slowly and quietly.  Mmm i pur. You turn me on my side, you insert a dildo into one hole and yourself into the other, fuck me until you cum - you stay a minute and the cum slides out of me as you do. We sleep facing and touching each other. What do you think?

A Raven and a Wolf   He sat, kneeling really, slowly panting, under a soft leather hood. It was laced tightly, almost preventing his every breath. And in the darkness, under the hood, he strained his ears to hear whether she was near, or far. He inhaled, trying to find her scent, but could only smell the leather of the hood. He tried to feel if he could sense her presence closer, but nothing. The air was still. His mouth, dry from nerves, with lips slightly agape, didn't utter a sound.   So he waited, arms bound, shoulder back, chest forward and exposed. Uncomfortably upright.    She sat before him, watching him lazily, like how a cat does with a weakened mouse, very still. A hunter and their prey. She was breathing evenly to hide the excitement pooling inside of her. Hands encased in buttery soft lamb skin gloves, the color of his hood, the color of her whip, the color of blood. The color of her lips. A red so beautiful. Her eyes sparkled at the idea of it coming from his body. Beautiful and broken. She could sense he was searching for her; a slight turn of the head, listening, perhap? Leaning forward gently; trying to smell? Like a dog, she thought, just like a dog. And she sat there far longer than even she desired to see how far this "dog" would go.    "Bark, dog" she commanded in a low voice  And he barked immediately, no hesitation. She pulled back her hand and slapped him, his head jerked, body lurched, chest rising and falling rapidly. A noticeable difference between his legs. There it was again, a hunger to bite into him. Taste his blood. Consume him. But only silence. No whimper, no moan, not a sound escaped him. She wondered if he were bleeding from his cute little mouth. Again she slapped him. Softer than the first, a loving caress, bits of his hair peeked through the laces of the hood and she wanted to grip them and tear them away. Would he let her? Perhaps.    The next slap, and the one after, opposite hand, and he fell forward just enough that his face touched her thighs only separated by the hood and her own stockings. The rule was he wasn't allowed to touch her unless she said. This was a broken rule, however accidental. She stood and let him slump forward in a stupor, supported only by the tension of the rope tied to the foot of the bed.   Bark, dog. Dog. He barked.  Up, dog, and he returned to his previous place, exposed and upright. She stepped forward, the toe of her shoe pressing down on the sensitive flesh of the head of his dick. She crushed it gently until he sat even straighter. She held his head in her left hand, caressed it gently, leather on leather. The smell intoxicating her. Raising her right hand she slapped him again, over and over until her hand grew hot even under the glove. Was he bleeding? She hoped so. She hoped to kiss him and bite his lips and taste his blood. She wished she could see his eyes, dazed, glassy, far away. She caressed his head. And whispered, "you may touch me" and he pressed his face into her hands, her thighs. Still no sound, he was so silent.   "Bark, my handsome boy" and he barked, hoarse and painful as she encircled his neck with her hands. This was his idea, he had inspired in her a lust for choking him until he was nothing and drifting away in the ether. She squeezed, her hands perhaps too small, until he gurgled. She wondered if his eyes were open or if they were dimmed. The hood obscured so much. She squeezed until he seemed to go limp. And she let him. Shoulders yanked uncomfortably under his weight.    He awoke. Arms aching, face hot but no longer enclosed by the hood. He could see her though his vision lacked acuity. She was standing over him, wrapped in pink except for gloves. He yearned for them then. Yearned for them to be around his neck, feeling the bones of her fingers threatening his very life. He wanted to ask for it, for her to choke him, strangle him, but knew it was to her whim that he obeyed. Obeisance was her pleasure. He looked at her, eyes soft, left cheek swollen, lips split ever so slightly and she leaned down and kissed him, sliding her tongue over the drying blood. He kissed her back, gentle, but hungry.    Her kiss was soft but grew more passionate until she bit him and suckled his mouth. Did he love this part of her? The softness before the sting.  She broke the kiss. Her lipstick perfect but her mouth and chin stained crimson with what must have been his blood. "Open your mouth, I'd like to try" she said softly. A shy whisper. So unlike the command to "Bark".  He angled himself upright, head back, lips parting painfully like a little bird. She leaned forward and let her own saliva pool in her mouth and slowly let it fall into his. He shuddered. His excitement excited her and she kissed him again before he could even swallow but this time it was wild and wet. Her saliva all over his mouth, chin, cheeks.    "I have to whip you now, are you ready?" She asked and he nodded. A question was not a command to speak. Dogs do not speak unless commanded to speak. She untied him and his body fell forward. Not used to its old range of motion. His limbs buzzed from having sat in one position for too long. He wondered about how much time had passed. Funny thing, time. Why did it matter now when he was in the moment with her.   Without the hood he realized he could smell her. A warm sweet scent, perhaps arousal. And he thought then about being forced to please her like they talked about in passing, forced until exhausted and even beyond. After play. Her, in her pink, looked like candy and he wanted to lick her. She must be sweet.      She looked down at him and his face was peculiar, his mind was somewhere else and he looked rather cute. But she was jealous at the idea that his mind wasn't on her and she kicked him in the stomach to bring him back to her. He coughed and curled up as she walked to retrieve her whip, preparing for the next step in her courtship.  "Up" she commanded and he got to his feet, winded, bruised. Arms still behind his back. She released them to tie them around the post of the bed. The bed post being the whipping post, isn't it somehow romantic, she thought.    "If you need me to stop, tell me, I won't be gentle otherwise" she said to him, her mouth on his ear. His hair was slicked down with sweat and he smelled musky. She liked his smell. She bit his earlobe and stepped back a couple of feet and threw the whip. Lash after lash until he tried moving away. Pulling at the post until it creaked. She wanted him to cry but he only moaned and groaned, no tears. Just a brow drenched in sweat as his back went from fine pink lines to slowly oozing wounds. If he didn't give her tears then she would have blood.  He pulled desperately as if trying to escape her and she threw the whip furiously, lashing whatever she could reach, his ass, thighs, calves, neck, even the back of his head. The post groaned as if it would break under the strength of him trying to flee.   "Do you want to get away from me?" She asked. His breathing heavy, labored, his body wobbled as blood poured from him, he shook his head no, weakly, and looked over his weeping shoulders with hazy eyes. Finally he spoke, a clear and clean "No, ma'am" from his lips now dry from mouth breathing, swollen from having been bitten and slapped.   The no rang through her body and she leapt at him and kissed and licked his mouth, his shoulders, his back. Barely containing her arousal, her hips moving in slow circles. She was so hungry.&n

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

As a Dominant CD Gurl I look for a Submissive CD who can be controlled and influenced and is available on a regular schedule. The submissive CD will wear the types of feminine clothes she is told to wear. The types of fabrics and texture of fabrics her Dominant is turned on with. The pastel colors and cute prints on the girlie girl fem clothes. The submissive will fill her CD closet with the clothes her Dominant likes to see her wearing. The submissive will keep her body shaved and sexy smooth. She will have spending money to go shopping on command by her Dominant. She will be Bi-Sexual or Gay. She will enjoy getting spanked. She will not be a slave but will serve and service her Dominant on a regular schedule. So far the Vanilla Lives seem to get in the way for finding this submissive CD Gurl?

If you do not meet my must-haves, don't contact me. Don't send "if only you didn't want ___ I'd fit" messages. This play for manipulation/sympathy/exceptions doesn't work on me, and shows you don't respect me or other women as people who know themselves better than you think you know them. Don't lie about about reading my profile when you clearly did not. It's extremely obvious you didn't, and lying is a bad look. Also don't lie about your age, ethnicity, etc.  It doesn't increase your chances, and if I find out, I'm done. Yet again, respect my choice to not choose you.  

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

I've been asked many times over the years, what is the difference between a submissive and a slave? One could say, by common definition, that is submissive, gives up control, but only within the constraints of the bedroom. The submissive can set limits, boundaries and more. So, it's not truly giving up control, but they giving up of limited control within certain areas, usually limited to strictly sexual. The slave, on the other hand, gives up all control at all times, both within and outside the bedroom. Her limits may be observed by her or his master or mistress. But, they don't have to be. Furthermore, giving up of control usually applies to all areas of life, not just strictly sexual. Still, that can be seen as a rather limited definition. if one truly wants to defined the difference between the two, it boils down to this. A submissive will give up control within the parameters of still satisfying her needs, wants and desires. A slave is able to sublimate her own needs, in order to put the needs of someone else before her own at all times. That's the big difference. A submissive may give up control, even total control, but only within the duration of a scene, or a particular situation. A slave not only gives up control, but puts the needs of her master before her own at all times. A submissive can always say, "Not tonight. I'm not feeling up to it." A slave has no such options. Her place and purpose is to put the needs and wants of her Master ahead of her own, and if Master decides that he wants to use his slave, it's her place as a slave to meet and even exceed his expectations. The problem is, with so many, having been raised with this being either fantasy or online role-play, combined with the Tinder culture expectation of "If this doesn't amuse me, I can just ghost him." It's becoming increasingly difficult to find those that truly have a slave mentality. So, those of you who are putting yourself out there as slaves, make sure that you understand the difference between submissives and slaves. Not only for your own benefit, but for the benefit of others as well. That way, no one's time is wasted, not expectations dashed and you'll be more successful at finding what it is you're truly looking for.

On Being Tended To There is a particular kind of vulnerability in being sick that I have never made peace with easily. I am not a woman who softens gracefully under inconvenience. I do not do helpless well. A migraine, specifically, is an affront, the kind of physical mutiny that my body stages without my permission and that I resent with the focused irritation of someone who had other plans for the day and does not appreciate the interruption. What I have made peace with is this: being cared for well, by someone trained to my specific requirements, is its own kind of power. It is not weakness to lie in a darkened room and receive exactly what you need. It is, in fact, the point. I wake with it already behind my left eye, that specific pressure that announces itself before I am fully conscious, before I have had a chance to negotiate or refuse. The light from the curtain gap is already too much. I do not have to say anything. You are already moving. This is what attention produces, real attention, the kind that is trained and deliberate and treats learning me as the serious undertaking it is: you read the quality of my stillness the way a sailor reads weather. You know before I speak. The curtains are drawn the rest of the way before I ask. The room drops into the particular darkness that a migraine demands, not full black but the soft gray of a room that has been told to be quiet. You move through it without turning on lights. I notice this. It matters. The water arrives cold, with the specific glass I prefer, on the nightstand without a sound. My medication beside it, already sorted, already the right ones in the right order without my having to inventory my own suffering aloud. You have learned my protocols the way you learn everything about me: carefully, completely, understanding that the details are not optional and that getting them right is the baseline expectation rather than a performance deserving praise. You adjust the pillow without being asked. I note this too. The house goes silent. Not the silence of absence but the managed silence of someone who has taken on the task of keeping the world at a specific volume so that I do not have to. Inside there is nothing: no television, no movement that is not careful, no presence that asks anything of me. You understand, or you will understand, that tending to me when I am unwell is not about hovering. It is about calibrated invisibility. Being precisely available and precisely absent in exactly the right proportions, which requires more intelligence than most people give it credit for. I am not interested in someone who needs to be seen caring for me. I am interested in someone who simply does it, correctly, without making their effort my problem. You bring a cool cloth without being asked and place it over my eyes with hands that are exactly the right temperature and exactly the right pressure. Not tentative. Tentative is more irritating than bold when I am in pain. You do the thing or you do not. You do not do it halfway and then hover at the edge of the bed waiting to be told you got it right. You already know whether you got it right. If you do not know, you are not ready for this. I sleep for a while. When I surface you are in the chair, not at the bedside, not making your presence into a demand I have to respond to. Simply there, available the way a room is available: quietly, without agenda. The water has been refreshed at some point without my noticing. This pleases me more than you will ever hear me say. By afternoon the worst has passed into the dull aftermath, that wrung-out flatness that follows a bad migraine like a gray tide going out. You bring food without asking whether I want it, because you know that I will refuse food when I should eat and that part of your function is to override my worse instincts with gentle, firm consistency. It is exactly what you know I can manage: nothing that requires effort, nothing with a smell that will undo the fragile progress of the afternoon, presented without ceremony or the implicit pressure of someone waiting to be thanked. I eat. I do not thank you. You do not require it. Later, in the thin early evening light, you sit at the foot of the bed and work your hands over my feet with the focused attention you bring to anything you do for my body, slow and deliberate, the kind of pressure that does not ask anything back. I lie with one arm over my eyes and the understanding that I want from you in these moments is not sympathy and it is not performance. It is competence. It is presence without weight. It is the specific quality of someone who considers this a privilege rather than an inconvenience, who moves through my discomfort with the steadiness of someone who has made my comfort their entire purpose for the day and requires nothing in return. You do not ask how I am feeling every twenty minutes. You do not make small sounds of concern that require me to reassure you. You do not treat my pain as an opportunity to demonstrate how caring you are. You simply handle it, quietly and correctly, and you let me be unwell without making my illness into a performance we are both starring in. This is what I require. Not grand gestures. Not visible sacrifice. The quiet, intelligent, sustained attention of someone who has studied me carefully enough to know what I need before I need to say it, and who finds their satisfaction not in being acknowledged but in the simple fact of having gotten it right. If you can do this, on the days when I am at my least, when there is nothing glamorous or cinematic about what is being asked of you, when the task is simply to be useful and invisible and exactly correct, then you understand something essential about what this life actually is beneath the surface of it. It is not always the collar and the candlelight. Sometimes it is the cool cloth, the right glass, the chair in the corner, the silence held like something precious.   Get that right, and you will have understood something that most never do.

Santa's travels.    Santa has to visit ~2 billion kids (assuming 2.5 children per household),  = ~800 million stops on Xmas eve. Assuming they are equally spread across the planet, each house occupies  0.069 square miles, which means the distance between each is 0.26 miles.    He has 48 hours on Xmas eve if he travels across the international date line in the direction of the Earth's rotation.  He has 2/10,000 of a second per household. He must therefore travel at 1,279 miles / sec. which = Mach 6,395.

CFNM Couples Tea Party 14th September 2024 4pm prompt  After many requests for couples to attend the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies Tea Party I have decided to heed your call!! Dominant Ladies are invited to bring their submissive partner to join the the Tea Party on 14th September for an afternoon of tea & wine with lashings of decadence. The submissives will be there solely to serve and cater to the ladies' every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla tea party again!  This is NOT! purely for male/female couples, ladies who wish to bring their female submissive are also encouraged to join the party. And, as usual, single ladies and gentlemen are also very welcome to attend. Ladies, this is your chance to be served by submissives and objectify them in a group situation. Whilst CFNM includes activities that are not exclusively orientated towards female dominance and superiority, a modicum of humiliation and punishment to submissives not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged! Submissives, (whether male or female) ,this is your chance to parade and display yourself proudly in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM. The AcadaMay events/CFNM is also extremely inclusive and an absolutely safe and comfortable environment for single ladies attending on their own who wish to explore alternative scenarios in situation where they will be supported. All guests (both male and female) at the Tea Party will either need to be known personally by myself or will need to contact me with some brief details about themselves and a face photo so I know who they are. All in the strictest confidence and with the ultimate of discretion ;)  If you wish to attend send me a message!

Normal 0 Yes i put it on my other one too   lol Thought I would put this here.  We all know how long updating your profile takes  LOL  I was passing the time one evening responding to emails (sorry I'm behind, getting better though  lol)  I accidentally pushed the "home" button, which no longer refreshes the page, but shows you profiles of all that are currently online. I started reading other's profiles (Dominant and submissive) and I was surprised to see there are still some lifestyle people on this thing  lol   Below are some phrases here and there and adjusted them to fit me, as well as some of my own words, to explain yet another way what I am looking for. (So thank you fellow CS'ers for the help  lol):    Even though I have a rather in depth profile, I still get asked what I'm looking for.  So hopefully this will work for everyone (yeah yeah yeah I know the wankers aren't going to read this either LOL):    Looking for a slave to train with love and discipline. I'm looking for a partner(s) that is no where near a doormat, like so many on here,  I am way too busy to deal with the game players that seem to keep finding me here. I am looking for someone who can hold their own in the vanilla world during business functions, etc., but also has the ability to enjoy and obey the rules and regs of the D/s lifestyle.    I want my companion slave to be my lover (someone that can and will hold me at night), a friend (someone I can talk to on any level about anything),one I can trust and love back. Go on trips, day or otherwise and have actual fun. (D/s doesn't have to be done just at home ya know?   lol)  And, "no" for all you one handed typers that get mad and say, "You are just looking for a husband" just because I won't "assist" them in their efforts   lol  Trust me, a piece of paper is the LAST thing I'm looking for.  I know they say to never say never but.......NEVER!!!!     LOL   I believe submission is a gift to give not one to take    I mix D/s with everyday vanilla life.  That means I also want a balance in family, friends and the lifestyle.  And I mean our actual families (i.e. mothers, fathers ,brothers, sisters, nephew, nieces, cousins, aunts, uncles;  are all important to me and should be for you as well)  (and "no" this does not mean that we will be shouting in the streets to our family and friends about our personal life, it just means we need to mingle with others just as much as we would if we were just vanilla.  Nothing makes people start nosing around like someone or a couple that only keeps to themselves.  LOL     I usually read history and profile before I respond to someone.  And guys for you that say you don't have kids but want them some day, just move on to the next profile, because that obviously won't be happening here   LOL    Nothing makes me happier than to know that I have a loving, trusting, supportive family/foundation under me (yes, this time I am referring to my "in house" family)  My man/men are happy when I am pleased with them and nothing makes them sadder than knowing that they have displeased me. Me and my guy or guys and that we are all happy and taken care of and that we are living the life that is perfect for what we were all looking for.  Not someone who just says he wants it.  Those kind either try to manipulate you into what they want eventually, or they are here but miserable, making everyone else the same.  Or the worst ones that go with a family just to be with "anyone" and the whole time they are online trying to better deal you  lol    No I wont meet or even DM you after we have a 5 minute conversation in mail if you want to meet me (usually just "hi" back and forth), Take your time. Talk to me.. I think there is a very special person behind this computer screen. If you are a real lifestyle submissive then you should want to take your time and learn as much as you can about the life that you claim you want to walk into, forever. If this isn't your style and you need to move faster, that's awesome, it's just not my way, so we can agree to disagree and you can move on to the next profile. No I don't plan on talking here forever before DM's but I will move on to whatever the next step is, when "I" am ready.  Nothing else will fill the void but what I seek. So don't ask, try to manipulate me, or think you are so special that I will change what I want.  You get to choose who and what you want, I deserve the same respect.                      

My ultimate goal is to find a man to make me his housewife, so I decided to write some things about what that means to me. A housewife is just a fancy way to say you are a slave in a 24/7 TPE. A housewife is property, a housewife has no rights, only those a master gives them. A housewife gives their mind and body to a master, a housewife is not able to make the decisions that are in their best interest, so a master takes that role. They choose the clothes that are best for their housewife to wear that day, a master knows the most important things that need to be done and make a list for the hou to complete for the day. The typical day of the housewife consists of cooking for a master, cleaning the masters house, and completing the duties a master tells them to do. A master cares for their housewife, and if a housewife does something wrong or does not do something correctly, the master punishes the housewife, to teach them and help them grow. A housewife gives their mind and body to the master, a master deserves this for caring for the housewife, this means their body is the master's to use amd abuse whenever and however they choose. I know there is more to this but these were just some of my thoughts.

A lot of people here are searching for their self.  I appreciate this and encourage it. I am not searching for myself.  I know who I am and what I am looking for in life and in partner(s) - I SEEK PRESENCE.  I SEEK SERVICE.  I SEEK COMMITTMENT. I am POLY.  My household and those whom you would be serving are TWO WOMEN - MOTHER AND MYSELF.  Service to mother is doing anything I would do for her. I am POLY.  I choose to have relationships with MORE THAN ONE MAN AND UNDER THE SAME ROOF.  Do not contact me if you cannot handle being part of a FAMILY. SAFE SANE AND CONSENSUAL - RISK AWARE - NOTHING UNHEALTHY UNSAFE OR ILLEGAL.  CONTRACTS get to the nitty gritty of the outline WE follow in our engagements and where we may draw outside of the lines.  They also discuss YOUR CONTRIBUTION(S) to our home, STD's, Emergency Contacts, Health status and a lot more. YOU SUBMIT TO ME.  That means YOU start the process with WHAT YOU SUBMIT TO.  Dont come to me stating you will do anything or with your list of likes.  Come to me with a readiness to live this life REAL TIME FULL TIME WITH A FEMALE HEAD OF HOUSEHOLD. If you are looking to life a life, chained up in my basement, eating my scraps from a dog bowl, or better still only eating shit, you better come with a handler as well.  Be of genuine and sincere value to this home and to me and my family and be seeking to belong to a family.              

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

I found this today and tweaked it to add the woman, she, and her. This goes both ways; it’s not a one-way street. Actions are paramount to a solid relationship, right alongside words. People show/tell you who they are and what they want; pay attention.   You are not right for everyone, and everyone is not right for you. Do the work, read, and listen to what is being said and wanted.   “Every time I want to text him/her, I re-read these lines and suddenly, I don’t need to anymore: If he/her wanted to, he/she would He’s/she’s not busy, he’s/she’s just showing you his/her priorities Silence is an answer Respect yourself enough to stop chasing The man/woman who hurt you won’t be the one to heal you His/her mixed signals are just proof of his/her indifference A man/woman who sees your value doesn’t risk losing you Crumbs are not love, and you deserve the whole meal.”

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.

Twisted Cheshir Madness 2.0 Let the One true Twisted cheshir Lead you into the darkness and down the rabbit hole.... Here we goooolooking for friends and whatever more may come with is this this world .. my name is cheshir i am the one and only .. So come and join me in this journyava name TwistedCheshirLet Madness Guide you into the ever lasting peace that come with it

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'.

There’s a certain elegance in control. Not the loud, brash kind — but the quiet certainty of knowing someone’s will is bending under your hand, moment by moment. I don’t rush the process. Breaking someone isn’t about snapping them in half; it’s about unravelling them thread by thread. Watching pride give way to obedience, seeing the way humiliation transforms from resistance into desire — that’s the real artistry. I’m not in this for a scene or a fleeting rush. I want the slow burn, the kind that seeps into everyday life until submission isn’t something you do, it’s something you are. If you’ve ever felt that pull — the need to be seen, stripped bare, and claimed — you already know the beginning of the story. The question is: do you know how far you want it to go?  

Small Mercies, Longer Days ? It has been one of those stretches where the days stack up against you before you have had a chance to argue with the first one. Nothing catastrophic, nothing worth dramatizing, just the particular grind of too much friction in too many directions at once, the kind of week that does not make good copy but costs you something anyway. A significant loss in the family that required me to help plan funerary rites, and restructuring at work that threatens my position.?I have been moving through it the way I move through everything: upright, standard intact, but aware of the weight. Nothing breaks my stride, only I break things that deserve to be remade, but nothing in these uncertain times holds significant comfort for me (currently).? ? What has saved me, genuinely, is the weather.? ? Spring arrived this week with the specific conviction of something that has been waiting a long time to make its point, and I have been stepping outside just to feel it, that clean particular warmth that does not yet carry the heaviness of summer, where the air still has a crispness underneath the heat and everything green looks almost aggressive in its newness. There is something about spring light in the late afternoon that I find quietly restorative in a way I cannot fully articulate. It simply helps. I will take it. The cherry blossoms at the Field Museum are in bloom, and it's an easy walk. Lake Michigan has also been a close held companion, and was still as glass on Thursday. You could scry on her water like a mirror, and the light filtered through the overcast sky as if fingers were reaching out to dip themselves. It felt greedy to take her in, but I am nothing if not hedonistic.? ? And then there was Artemis, splashing down with the kind of elegant finality that makes you remember the world is still capable of extraordinary things on the days it feels most ordinary. Something about watching that capsule meet the water, the culmination of that much human effort and precision and audacity, pulled me briefly out of my own difficult week and into something larger. I needed that more than I expected to. ? The bad days will pass. They always do. I remain steadfast. Someone recently appraised me when I talked about my resiliency : "As the stars stay lighting the sky".? ? For those of you following the story of the weight of three minutes, the continuation posts tomorrow evening. Come back rested.

Em (they/them), a disabled, nonbinary, Dominant human is looking for service creatures who want to be helpful and engage in service with someone who is very appreciative.    Tasks may include but are not limited to:   - Adventures in grocery shopping - Domestic assistance including but not limited to: dishes and kitchen care, laundry help, meal prep, and execution - Secretarial type work including but not limited to: admin type stuff and even just dictation, often regarding the podcast or other form of kink  education) - Grooming and beauty maintenance including but not limited to: bleaching and dying my hair, special occasions might call for doing my hair and makeup or helping me pick out clothes (and get into them if corset or leathers)   Requirements:   - Not bothered by 420 smoke (welcome to partake in the house) - Ok with big dogs (12 year old couch potato pittie) - Not a devotee, chaser, or “BBW lover” - I am more than my body. - I practice ethical nonmonogamy and currently have one partner, my husband. I am open to other relationships starting. Must be ENM or strictly platonic with me. - Open to all genders and orientations (except romance with heterosexual cis people as they wouldn't be interested in me anyway unless they saw me as a woman) - Age: 25-40 - Near Hutchinson, KS and willing to drive to me   Things I can offer in exchange: - a place to provide service that is meaningful and helpful - a space to be yourself in your gender and social expression - companionship - praise and appreciation  - education - training and skill development - advice - emotional support - tasks (toward personal growth) - accountability - sensual interactions (i.e. hugging, cuddling, playing with hair, etc) available if compatibility and connection felt and when negotiated. As a demisexual individual, I prioritize forming a deep emotional connection with someone before engaging in any kind of play or sexual interaction. I am also open to things staying platonic/casual. - kink play available to be negotiated occasionally if we happen to have an overlapping fit of interests.   I am into the idea of multiple people filling these roles as they are able. If you would like to apply, please read my profile (to confirm) and DM me introducing yourself and what you'd like to negotiate.    I look forward to hearing from you and seeing if we are a good match.  

  So I have had a few people now ask me what I am looking for and normally I don't like to put this in to words because it isn't something that is set in stone. It is definitely fluid and ever-changing, but I guess I can put the basics. Firstly, in order to define what I am looking for in a partner, I have to define who I am as my partner would be, in the most base sense, the opposite side of the same coin(s) (note the plural and you will start to see why this isn't so easy for me to define). So lifestyle me in a nutshell: -masochistic tendencies - primal - kajira - slave - submissive - doll - baby girl tendencies (not a little) - slight brat tendencies - service-oriented - energy practitioner Vanilla me in a nutshell: - high functioning anxiety/manic depression (sometimes not so high functioning) - extremely introverted - Norse Pagan - Gypsy Soul/ Wanderlust - dog mom - Scorpio (almost to a T, honestly minus the high sexual side) - highly intelligent and logical - overthinker - animal lover - hopeless romantic So in the most BASIC sense, that is me...so from there I would be looking for someone to complement me in these areas. Great! So what does that look like? Well, let me attempt to paint a picture: If you thought this part would be a bullet list, you will be sorely mistaken as it is not so easy to define. Him- The Dominant that I am searching for, as I stated before, would be my other half. I have MANY sides and nuances and so the person I need is someone who has all of the same sides, just on the opposite end of the spectrum. This is what I mean when I say I am searching for a unicorn as I am pretty sure it just doesn't exist. In the most base sense, I need someone who is 100% an Alpha Male. Yeah, I know that society today frowns upon men being men, but I also know that there are some that are still out there as it is just a part of who they are. I get toxic masculinity, but I also know there are many 'manly' men out there that aren't just a meathead. I have an extremely large and active primal side and it will not submit to just anyone, so that Alpha presense is needed. I need someone who can put me in my place and who isn't afraid to be rough at times. I love things like pursuit, take down, capture; CnC; wrestling; etc. If you made it past that part, the next thing would be someone who has more traditional views of a BDSM relationship. I am old school in a lot of my interests, wants, needs, and that zone in which I thrive. 24/7 M/s is where I find that I function the best. I love the depth of the relationship between a Master and a slave/kajira..but I also know how long it takes to foster the trust and depth of those relationships. I love the ritual and protocol of the M/s lifestyle and do extremely well in situations where everything in my life is controlled. This is not to say that only the daily that my outfits needs approved, but in like making sure my wardrobe is all choices that would be approved and they are sorted by occassions so that no matter what I would wear, it would be appropriate given the occasion and would have been approved. I understand there are not many who want the responsibility of how involved this type of relationship is and they do not want to control every ect of someone's life. They just want their bedroom play and that is it. That is great for those people, but not what I am looking for. I have a HUGE interest in the idea/concept of dollification. I know that most submissives/slaves may say that they want to be perfect for their Sir, but how many will go to the extent of actually doing it? This goes back to the slave mindset I believe in that I do want to be perfect for my Sir. If that entails changing hair color, getting tattoos, piercings, the type of clothing I wear, implants, waist training, etc...then so long as it is not illegal, it is want I would do/want with my Sir. This also includes sexual things such as stretching to be able to be fisted, or anal training, etc. This goes along with the 24/7 ect as typically enforced diets/excercise are a part of this. My masocistic side is weird. I am not a masochist in the every day sense that I crave pain all the time or that it gets me off. It fucking hurts. However, pain for me is a means of catharsis and for me to be able to process emotion as I have a terrible habit of just bottling it up instead of expressing it in the moment. The pain allows me to release all of that. My masochistic side is also very largely dependent upon the energy between my partner and me. I can take

  Her previous Dom turned up at our house late one night with two of his mates He was saying things like where is your slut wife? Ive brought a couple of cocks for herThey had all been drinking and came straight from the pubI tried to explain that it was late and she had gone to bedHe went straight upstairs saying he was going to wake herI found out the next day when she told me that she was awakened when he pulled the bed covers completely off the bed She sleeps nude He made her suck his cock before dragging her out of bed by her hair She tried to put her house coat on but he wouldnt let herHe dragged her downstairs and into the front room naked in front of his friends This is Teds slut wife Holding her in front of them he pulled on her hair until she said yes, She loves big cocks dont you? again he pulled on her hair until she said yesThis went on for some time making her crawl on the floor barking and panting like a dog He made her Grunt like a pig and all three were laughing and making jokes about her I was told to go and fetch her whip and cat of nine tails he knew we had because he had used them on her before All three took turns whipping her leaving marks all over her He held her arms behind her back while the other two took turns whipping her tits She was crying her eyes out at this point They used beer bottles to masturbate her and even had her licking their shoes. They ended up fucking her in all holes They totally abused her as I could do nothing but watchAfter they left we went to bed and I gently made love to her She admitted to me that she loved every moment of her ordeal Her cunt was absolutely saturated so I knew she was telling the truthShe once said to me that it is not about the sex, she can walk into any bar and get a man for sex For her the sex is nice but it is all about the pain and humiliation She can get a man to tell her how beautiful she is but again that is not what she wants deep down

These writings are my thoughts. They're neither right or wrong simply what I think and feel. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions; Submission evolves just like everything else. However, we fundamentally stay the same. We have that deep need, want, desire to serve.  I believe a Dominant will build a submissives confidence. He will build her up and show her how strong she is because He is confident in His Own Dominance.  Anyone can Own a doormat. Not everyone is capable of Owning a strong minded, confident woman.  Ultimately the submissive doesn't have to bow down to every Tom, Dick or Harry just because they call themselves a Dom. You do not have to address them as sir or master or any other title. Submission should be earned through Mutual Respect, Trust and Honesty.  Like any relationship it takes time to get to know each other. The deeper the bond the deeper the submission. I do think as a submissive we should try to conduct ourselves respectfull. When lucky enough to be Owned we need to be mindful that we are a reflection on our Owners.  Before a submissive is Owned they hold their power in their hands. They owe it to themselves to be strong and ask questions. Remember when you submit you are putting your life in that persons hands. Do you both want the same things?  Yes of course you want to be led out of your comfort zone but, you want to be as safe as possible.  Always remember to have a safety call set up when you meet someone for the very first time. Listen to your gut. If something feels off then trust that feeling. Don't feel pressured into accepting things that don't sit right with you.  Most of all enjoy this beautiful lifestyle and stay happy and safe 👌🏻

I am finding more people reaching out to me from out of state. While I don't mind chatting, some just send the how are you or other similar message, then don't really converse or may even ghost me. Then a couple months go by, and some even come back again with the how are you. I have stated in my profile at one point that if you are not in my state and not willing to relocate yourself to not contact me. At one point I had a guy reach out to me asking if I would take on his fiance and train her as a sub. I tbought why not.  He was willing to pay to send her to me and cover all costs. We had a good conversation going on for almost a month. He sent me photos, we discussed different scenarios. He then asked if I would keep her as my own and not let her come back to him and kept pushing that as if he did not want her. After several messages, I noticed he was fishing for info that I was not willing to give and after a while, he blocked me.  I wasted all that time chatting for something that ended up being a fishing scam. So be aware of the conversation you have with others. I have a rule not to give out personal information specifically for these reasons. I have had many people attempt to use information to try and blackmail me. What they don't realize is that I don't care. If they want to out me to family or frineds......be my guest. Most family I have on my social media don't care and some even know about my lifestyle choices. I had someone also reach out to me asking for me to relocate them to my area from another state. Thisnwas the first red flag as I clearly stated in my profile that I would not. I even went as far as to start texting via phone and text messaging directly. Their story was so convincing. However that old addage of if it sounds too good to be true it probably is. I ended up blocking them because I just had a bad feeling about the while situation. They were asking me to do some crazy things that were either borderline illegal or plain out against the law.    Long story short. I am so done with the lack of reading my profile and asking me to do shit that I cleay stated I would not. I am tired of the short how are you doing messages. I put a little more effort into my messages so I expect a little more substance. I understand and am more than happy to be adult about discussing things, and if by chance we are not a match am more than happy to say lets be friends or even go our seperate ways. Just be adult enough to say it rather than blocking me or ghosting me. We can all be adults here. Let's act like it and not be like we were in middle school.    For now, end of rant. I do use the block member button regularly and am more than happy to also report users that appear to be breaking the rules on the site or in some cases the law. We are all here for a reason. Mine is to connect with like minded local people and see what may come of it and at the very least hope that I can make a new friend      

Mmm… You feel it more with every word, don’t you? That deep, irresistible pull. My voice echoing in your mind, shaping your thoughts. It’s natural now—easy—to crave more. To need more.   Every time you listen, you sink deeper. Each word, each breath, each pause, wrapping around you, becoming part of you. The more you listen, the more you understand—this is where you belong.   And you do listen, don’t you? Daily. Repeatedly. Because it feels too good not to. The rhythm of my voice, the subtle commands slipping into your subconscious. Each session building on the last, rewiring your mind, reshaping your desires.   You love how it feels. You crave how it feels. You need how it feels.   Because each day you listen, the desire grows stronger. The craving becomes undeniable. You want to surrender more. To do more. To be more for me. You imagine what it would be like—my voice no longer distant, but close… So close.   Breathing with you. Guiding you. Controlling you.   In real time. In person.   The thought excites you, doesn’t it? My eyes watching you as you obey. My words directing your every move. The rush of knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be—on your knees, mind open, body ready, doing everything together.   And that’s coming. You can feel it. Each daily session brings you closer to that moment. Deeper into obedience. Fully addicted to my voice, my words, my control.   It’s your purpose. It’s your pleasure. It’s inevitable.   So keep listening. Daily. Let the need build. Let it consume you. Each session making you better, more obedient, more perfect for me.   Because soon, you’ll be ready for everything. Together. In real time. In person.   And when that moment comes… You’ll beg for it. Good girls always do.   Listen. Obey. Surrender. Serve. Your Hypnotic Master C is waiting.

    Desire fires: a machine gun Turning love to hate. You could never Be my mate... Tears fall, heart aches. i poison myself Day after day till  Pneumonia hits In ways You never did. Grief buries feeling, As i cleanse, Breath by breath, Coughing sadness Till life deceives, yet i defy death And hate, For God knows As i let go In prayer, love feeds What love makes.   6/14/24    

Many people love the fantasy of Dominance. The commanding presence and the control. The title of Master just drips with power and for many, the image it conjures is one of unquestioned authority, luxury and being served hand and foot. Maybe for some it is, I know I definitely have that life most days. But here’s the truth most don’t talk about, being a Master isn’t just about being the king of the house, it’s about being the rock. The standard. The one who leads with clarity, compassion and an unshakable sense of duty. It is the responsibility of a Master to do the best for those in your charge. This is your cautionary tale, because once you accept the role of Master, you don’t just gain power, you take on the weight of someone else’s trust. Their safety. Their submission. And if you can’t honor that, you have no business calling yourself Master at all.

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

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

SO,YES.I AM TOO MUCH. YOU ARE HERE TO CATER TO MY DESIRES.NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND,ACCEPT IT OR MOVE ON.JUST LET ME KNOW.

I just got the official 'Okay' from my doctor and I am now officially "healed". The fucking dick has no fucking clue what he is talking about. I still have aches and pains from just standing up. I went from in fucking good shape to what I feel is a bloated whale. And my endurance is total crap. After 2 flights of stairs, I am now winded.   As for my business, it's gone. All of it. No more tools, or materials. I was even forced to sell off my "personal collection" of goodies. As for my clients, They have found other 'artists' and 'makers'.   Ladies and gentlemen, I have now hit rock bottom.     So what am I looking for I am looking for an artist. Someone who feels they are up for the challenge (and bragging rights). Some knows the ins and outs of social situations as well as proper etiquette in different circles.  Someone who is willing and able to invest their time, talent, money, knowledge etc to make it happen.   The challenge, Take this currently out of shape male, with lacking social skills and has not started their transition yet.  Then through training, diet exercise, surgeries, lessons, transform him into a proper walking talking sex goddess. To remove every trace of ever being a male from the body and mannerisms. To transform so far that unless another was told they would never even suspect that the lady next to them was born a male.   I know something like this is a commitment in both time and money. As such, I do have skills in making and building that can be used. As I transition and look more feminine,  I am willing to be a cam girl or what not. To be by your side as an assistant and maybe more. After the transition, I am more than happy to be a beta dom in your dungeon, or who knows what we can come up with.   Here I am a living flesh piece of clay, looking to be transformed into the 'perfect' woman. To live the life I know I was meant to be living.  Help me and in return I can help you.   Send me a message if you are interested.

Today is a bad pain day.  Physcially, emotionally and mentally.   i am beyond thankful i work from home and do not need to face the world, aside from a visit to my parents house this evening for dinner.  Agoraphobia can be crippling and the very thought of stepping a toe outside of my "safe zones" is enough to throw me into a panic.  With my extremely high blood pressure and resting heart rate, i need to do all i can do keep myself calm.  The last thing needed to add to the litany of issues is a stroke.   On a happy not i found an adorable notebook and metallic pens (my glitter ones died...sad) to keep track of my daily blood pressure readings, and soon to be mood and food intake.   Daddy said He is so proud that i am finally working on fixing me.  the body parts are easy.  it's the mental part that scares me.  i truly do not know if i am ready to face my damage.  i hope i find a really good therapist that doesn't mind if a stuffy or two come along on my appointments...  

 He whispers in your ear, DON’T MOVE! and walks away,  now what runs through your mind. He returns and gives you another little kiss on the lips. As you’re standing there you feel a feather touching your right ear, it goes under your chin and back up to your left ear. It moves to your nose the down to your chest. The feather gently caresses around your left breast then over to your right breast.  The feather ventures to each nipple circling them several times.  Down towards the belly button it travels circling it several times.  The feather heads to your hip and then down the outside of your leg around your ankle and back up the inside of your leg cross up above your pubic hair carefully making sure not to get it wet.  He takes your hand in his and reminds you to keep your eyes closed. You recognize the way to your bedroom and he places you next to your bed. 

A couple nights ago, a self-defined submissive made some generic comment in his email, but did call me Domina, so I responded. A little earlier tonight, he wrote back to ask if I was looking for a slave. Specifically, "slave." I responded "Well, if you had actually read more than the first line, you would have found your answer before you asked" To which he replied "oh, read the profile syndrome that tells me everything I want to know not for me bye" Do you see the problem here? He didn't make any effort, while simultaneously offering himself as a "slave." To a total stranger. 'Cause lawd knows, a slave ain't gonna be asked to do anything as outRAGEOUS as... READ. This kind of obtuseness just blows my freakin mind every time. I mean, the twit has exchanged less than a hundred words with me, is using not the mild mannered "submissive" or "sub" which is kind of like dating, if you think about words (and you sure as shit better be the kind that thinks about words if you are writing ME) but instead chose the serious and committed word "Slave" which is a lot more like suggesting marriage. And obviously, he's heard this before, because he had a whole big feeling about it, and has pathologized it as something only demented women expect from a man who was already offering the pinnacle of servitude. It's funny because it's so sad, and so common. I had just never heard it put that way before. Such over the top, blatant gaslighting. 'If you want this, you must be CRAZY!' I mean, really who wants to actually KNOW someone they have given all power over their lives??? I guess I'm more tired than I thought, and a bit bummed over lack of snuggle time with DB on account of snow, but I didn't even bother replying to laugh at him. Block, delete, on to the next. Maybe I go watch TCM The Beginning again. (I fast forward through all the parts that Thomas isn't in. Much shorter movie, but I enjoy it a lot more.)

Remote Controlled - Part 1This is a fiction story based on a real event The year was almost over once again and Sally had no one to gift her bound and helpless form to. Another year had passed and every dominant man she had met was a no-hoper. Scrolling on her phone she looked mournfully at the parade of bound subs that filled social media. Tapping over to her dating profile she sighed. It took a lot of patience to filter through the inbox. Determined to keep trying she browsed the various messages she had received. It was the usual stuff - men with empty profiles saying 'hey'. Disappointed she pushed on through message after message until she saw one with a photo attached. Steeling her courage, Sally tapped the message desperately hoping it wasn't yet another unsolicited dick pic.To her surprise it wasn't. It was a picture of an app that she recognised. She used the app herself for one of her toys. As she took in the picture she realised that her username was displayed. 'Random Control' was a feature of her app controlled toys. A butt plug and vibrator she owned could be worn and then controlled by a random user of the app. Sure enough, this picture was coming from someone who she had chatted with as he controlled her toys! For a moment panic made her blood run cold. Was it creepy that he'd tracked her down on a dating site? What other profiles of hers did he know about? Semi-paralysed by this surprise it took her some time before she read the message to which the picture was attached. 'Control doesn't have to be random. All you have to do is ask.' Sally froze. This was out of the ordinary. How is someone meant to answer this? She gulped, but found herself unable to tap away from the message. She had to know more. Quickly she tapped through and read this man's profile. Thepicture wasn't amazing, but there was a very well written description of what this man was looking for. With every line Sally found herself drawn in further and faster. On the screen at least this man seemed like everything she was looking for. At least, right up until he used a single word - pantyhose. Sally's growing smile dropped. He was likely American. No Brit would use that word. Sure enough, on checking there it was - Bridgeport, Connecticut. Still, he deserved a reply. It was the most interesting message she'd received in weeks. 'I remember our chat. It was mindblowing. I'm sorry to say I'm not looking for an online relationship. - Sally' Dispondant, Sally closed the site and settled down for a lonely night. Streaming the latest reality show nonsense, her brain numbed and the familiar rut closed in. Moments later her phone buzzed. 'What is it about online that worries you? - Jonathan' 'Consequences, there can't be any when its all online. I can say I've done something but you have no way of knowing if thats the truth. Its just not as fun for me. - S' 'I understand. Are you up for another fun chat then?' Sally smiled. An online D/s relationship didn't get her motor running, but the thought of someone else teasing her with her toys really did. She quickly messaged back before hurrying to her toy chest. A touch of lube later and her plug and vibe were in. A few quick taps and she had the app open and connected to the man on the other end. His voice wasn't terribly deep. In fact he spoke very softly and gently. Almost careful with every word he chose to use. 'I really did love the message Jon.' 'It's Jonathan, not Jon.' He hadn't raised his voice at all to say this, instead he chose to set her toys to vibrate at their maximum settings. Sally breathed deeply as the toys caused her to let out a low moan. 'S..sorry Jonathan.' 'That's okay. Now you know.' The vibrations stopped as he lowered the control on his app. Then a second later, there was a barely perceptable rumble from her plug combined with a slow rhythmic buzz from her vibe. Sally gulped, he was good. 'You know Sally, there are other toys like this. Other ways a long distance dynamic can work.' But Sally bared heard, he was clearly skilled at controlling these types of vibrating toys. He was varying not just the intensity but the frequency and the patterns of her toys. 'Or maybe, even this type of play isn't something you enjoy as much as it sounds like?' The vibration stopped from both of Sally's toys. Snapping back to reality her hips were wriggling around, desperate for the good feelings from the toys. 'Please, don't stop now!' 'Well then Sally, answer me. Did you know that there are a lot of different long distance toys like this?' 'I'm sure there are. I don't think it would help though. Even in person, I can be bratty. I find ways to make it seem like I've done what was asked of me.' The vibrations began again, but this time at a very low level. Sally's hips writhed against the air, desperate to make the most of the sensations from the toys. She gripped her breats, teasing her nipples. 'What if I had a plan? A way of addressing some of your weaknesses? Would you be willing to at least hear me out?' 'I...I suppose...I could keep an...oh...oh.' Sally struggled for words as he played with her toy's controls masterfully. 'An open mind?' 'Oh god! Ye...ye...yes, and open mind.' 'I'm glad to hear it. Now, when you are close, do be a good little slut and ask me for permission to cum.' Sally's entire body began to quake as both the plug and the vibe filled her with sensations that felt amazing. Closing her eyes, she flipped to her front and ground her hips into her bed, trying to get more from the sensations of the vibe filling her. A few moments later, she was begging the male voice she knew as Jonathan for the permission to cum. He managed to play the controls so well that he kept her right on the edge of an orgasm for another two minutes. To Sally it felt like twenty, but before too long he said in a gentle voice: 'Cum for me Sally.'

Oh I wish I had a slave driver here, A useful chatty person near, Drives me to key appointments with notice set, Keen to be useful to me I bet. When I choose club play nights off we fly, Whips on his derriere produce mutual joy sighs.   Though now pleasant chat from the states only shows, Useless in practical life we all know. And I am a practical person through and through, So where are you Slave driver you not around tinges me blue.   Instead I am busy with study and skill, Developing life knowledge so my mind advances up a holl, Knowledge is power so I consume mine, Growing as a person through time.

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

 I am guessing that a lot of men here, and I don’t blame them, really, just want someone to look at their cock and tell them they did a good job by having one. But honestly, is that what D/s is? I thought that a Dom was a man that had figured out how to seduce a woman and liked seduction. I thought the whole point was for them to use their power in ways to see what they could do. Where are these men? I feel like I have more power now than ever and am so disappointed at the lack of creativity and artistry. What is up you guys? Within minutes of making a connection a man says ‘you will be my whore’ which is a bit much, but ok, my dude, let’s see what you’ve got? Make me your whore! Just you telling me I will be your whore really isn’t so effective. Plus you don’t mean it, you might mean you want someone you can jack off to/with, which is cool, but that’s not your whore, that’s just a whore. And being a whore, which is also fine, is not what I am looking to experience. I am surely worth more than that.  When I think about being a man’s whore, well I get very excited. I think about the possibilities for so many interesting and intriguing things, I want to give this person pleasure, I want to focus on them, learn how to serve them. I want us to build a connection that allows for mutuality. I want to want to be really bad for him.   But it’s a relationship and in my mind an important one and perhaps I am wrong but when I offer myself up sexually to someone it’s kind of sacred to me. I take the thing seriously, I am good at devotion.  There have been men that believed they very much wanted me to be their whore, but with the exception of a very few,  they weren’t really getting me, and though they seemed very much committed to ‘the idea of idea’ of the dynamic, they  weren’t able to be realistic- like they lacked maturity or experience. I totally thought I would be able to find someone to teach me something. And I am mean, I am not that evolved. I am sure I have a lot to learn. Are my expectations out of bounds? Am I wrong about what this D/s thing has come to be about? Any sane person out there want to share a prespective on this for me?   No need to attack me, I am seirously just speaking from my own experience.

advice in seeking a partner  First narrow your search to the kinky community.Dont befriend or date vanilla women.You are wasting your time and theirs.Focus on knowing your self.So many people say they are this or that and seek this or that but when confronted with the reality, change their mind or back away.This makes them look like a game playing phony.Dont go around telling women what you want and what you want from them.Use the Internet to network with face to face local kink community.Attend every function possible.Be your self.Be the person you want people to see.Only when asked, say honestly what you are seeking.Try to make friends with everyone.Not just Dominants.Being friends with an established couple opens more doors than anything else.Dont ask any Dominants to do you, or train you or use you.Dont ask if they know anyone who will do any of the above.Just be you and say you are available. Period.When you become a known and recognized member of your local community anyone interested will come to you.Offer non sexual service if ever the opportunity comes up.Foot rub back rub, maid service etc.Start small. Earn trust.Never lie.Never break a date or be late.Often people test other people with precision details.Like do something or call at a precise moment.If you cant be trusted to follow that instruction, you wont be trusted to follow any other instructions.Be clean.Be polite.Never answer back.If you dont like whats happening excuse your self from the situation without saying anything negative.

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  

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

I want a truly submissive, Female Supremacist who is acquiescent to their core and craves pampering a Beautiful and Dominant Goddess. I am bored of being approached by porn sick sex focused faux-subs who want to use Women to fulfill their kinks and "domestic shlubs". Cleaning My toilet is not an act of submission. Worshipping any sexual parts of my body is not an act of submission. Understanding your role as a male and sub in the order of My World is an act of submission. Begging to know how you can be of use, cater to Me and relieve Me of stress or woes is an act of submisoon. I am a dream Woman by all standards. I expect any sub who even attempts to approach Me to have a "how can i tangibly make Your day better, Goddess" attitude. Enough with the sex and domestic crazed bs. It's lazy, patronizing and patriarchal. The only sub I'll accept is one who hired a cleaning service to work while I'm enjoying a spa day that they arranged for Me. Afterward, they will prepare a delicious meal for Me, then I let out My pent up stress on them in a corporal manner, or have My feet massaged and kisssed...whatever mood stirs Me.

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..

"So into you" or why ob- ject -ification is not as flattering as some guys think it is The subject today will be centered around ob- ject -ification, and how lack of the right actions is getting in the way of what you want. Recently my day was spent prepping for Mom spending the night, which mostly meant me continuing to organize, clean and just generally improving the space in my sewing room, (the only real spare room) which has a futon, and most importantly, DOORS, so she can have privacy and quiet from my cats. Now, being ADD, I work better with music and company, so I put music on that she and I can both enjoy- a Pandora station based on the Doobie Brothers I started just for her. And being who I am, I tend to listen to lyrics, and then often find myself analyzing them. Usually, I'm specifically analyzing the relationship failings described in them. It doesn't always stop me enjoying the music, but sometimes I recognize the stalkery mindsets that filled our airwaves when I was young and impressionable. As were the guys who were listening. It's not surprising that we all grew up thinking these kinds of unhealthy behaviors and expectations were normal, and even romantic. Songs like Boston's "Let me take you home tonight," where a guy is explaining to a woman he's never actually met before that he's basically been stalking her and built a strong fantasy and expectations about who she is, and now he feels that she should absolutely feel both flattered, and obligated to have sex with him. "You must understand this, I've watched you for so long, that I feel I've known you, I know it can't be wrong," and goes on to say "I'm dreamin of your sweet love tonight, let me take you home tonight." So… he's been watching her for a long time without talking to her, decided who she was without ever having a single conversation, and, of course, imagining sex with her. A lot. And he tells her so, over and over and over. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing I want. Let me do this thing because I want it. Because that's always what is really going on there. Always the focus and end focus. Nah... that's not creepy AT ALL. Geesh. Today, it was "So Into You" by Atlanta Rhythm Section. Different band, different song, same thought process - I saw you, I was attracted, I've decided who you must be, and I can't think about anything except sex with you - only this time, they seem to want to make it her fault. Now, at first, what struck me was "could not catch your eyes" and "stand here helplessly hoping you get into me." Which just makes me ask 'What did he actually try?' I end up envisioning Toothless in How to Train Your Dragon 2, dancing around like a lunatic and freaking out the of his affections. Let's hope it wasn't like that. But honestly, it sounds like he really didn't try much. He admits that he's 'standing helplessly' rather than walking across the room and saying hello. Which sounds a lot like complaints I've heard from guys before. "I don't know how to talk to women" and that's where it ends, rather than trying to solve that. I mean, there are classes, there are workshops, there is therapy, etc. There are options. Why would someone not even try to fix the thing that keeps them from finding companionship if they are stating that they want it? Passive is not a good look. Or as has been said "faint heart ne'er won fair lady." Unfortunately, the closer we look at the lyrics, the creepier it gets. All this woman did was walk into a room. Suddenly, he's obsessed. He "can't think of nothing else." He says "Love the things you do" when so far, all she's done so far was exist in the same room. She's "driving him crazy," "thinking about how it's going to be" and he's "Gonna love her all over, over and over." So he's not really thinking about getting to KNOW her. He's focused on this fantasy he has of who she is, and what he wants to do to her. She's a beautiful woman. But somehow, she's not really a person. I mean, he's impressed by her, and he wants something from her. But not enough to make the effort to interact with her as human being. So he's "helpless" and "driven crazy" and "captured" but is just standing around "hoping." Worst part is that I really do like the song. Musically, and I like his voice, and the moody, kinda slow jazz feel to it. Shame about the message. I do get it - sometimes you see someone who just looks so cool it's hard to figure out how to approach so that they will be as impressed by you as you are by them. I was told that I'm intimidating... decades before I knew that Dominant was a thing. And the problem isn't that he thinks she's beautiful with "voodoo in the vibe." It's that he's turning that into something SHE's doing - "driving him crazy," and turning his insecurity into "helpless." And the entire thing is portrayed as flattering, and romantic, and a compliment to her. Because isn't that what women are supposed to want? For men to desire them? For her beauty to give her power somehow? For her appearance to add to her value to men? Because "The Male Gaze" is always supposed to be a woman's focus. And what a man feels when gazing is her responsibility. And anything a man might do because of that feeling when gazing at her is her fault. And that is the message. In song after song. "I saw you, I had a feeling, I have a want, I am thinking about you, I am having lots of thoughts about you, I'm having a fantacy about you, I'm deciding that the fantacy is a true representation of who you are, so now I'm building hopes, and I'm building expectations, and now I'm going to approach you , and you should share all my fantacies and fullfil the hopes and expecations rather than view me as some total stranger who's making weird sexual demands." (We won't even START discussing murder ballads. That came up recently too...) That is the message young guys get when they are first thinking about asking girls on a date. That this is how it happens. That this is normal. So when they do it, they are shocked and confused by the girl's reaction. Then again, young girls get this too, so plenty of times when a guy is inappropriate, before they've learned to be afraid of guys and their reaction to rejection, they belive they are supposed to be flattered that a guy is paying attention to them. Even if she doesn't like him, having a guy want you is important, a measure of your value as a woman. So rather than seeing a red flag for later, more aggressive poor behavior, they see it through the lens of "romance." They feel pretty and special and don't recognize healthy behavior when they see it elsewhere because this is how it happens, and what is normal. It's right up there with "he must like you if he punched you" in grade school turning into "he didnt mean it, you know he loves you" later when he beats her bloody later in life. Hell, I literally had this just yesterday. "Hello beautiful, I’ve always wanted to meet you , I love that hair , your so beautiful, I’m in (my town) until Jan 30th Love spoil you and finally get to actually meet you , I only been dreaming for years to do some sissy sessions with you " Never read a single line of my profile in all those "years." So he literally only knows that I have a nice picture. I point that out. (It's a thing for me...you may have noticed.) He responds "I know I need proper training but I know you can teach me !" Because of course, that would be my goal - to spend time and a lot of energy giving someone what they want when they couldn't spend 5 minutes reading my profile. I point out that he STILL hasn't read it, or addressed my reply, and that it was kind of insulting.  He pushed on, though - "We can go get coffee or meet at a munch or anything your up for , I’m only here to next Sunday , but after we meet and greet , I know you would always enjoy my company"  Because obviously, women enjoy men who they feel have insulted them. Especially when it's the BDSM equivalent of a one night stand.  Yes, I blocked him. He obviously wasn't going to catch a clue, even when smacked with a clue-by-four, so there was no point letting him keep messaging me until he got nasty.  He told me I was beautiful, so it automatically followed in his mind that I would immediately want to be alone, up close and personal, providing him his desired gratification, in a session with him, a total stranger, on the first meeting. And that his idea of "spoil" would be the same as mine. Or "proper training." He belived knew me, what I'd want, what I enjoy from my company, etc, without having to read a word I wrote, because he'd looked at my picture and had a feeling and built a fantasy and then expecations. And that who I was beyond my face (and hair) didn't matter.  Because I was not a person to him.  I was an object he desired... a fetish vending machine into which he felt he had put the appropriate coinage - a compliment on my looks. And he wasn't going to be desueded from that with reality or actual human interaction.  This is the world women live in. This is what "The Male Gaze" actually means. If we are attractive, we have value, but not humanity. If we are not attractive, we have no value, and are dehumanized.  You'd think men who want to be Dominated would behave at least slightly different, show at least surface respect to a Dominant Woman, but on average, they don't. And yet, right now, in several groups, there are guys going on about how hard it is to find a Mistress, by guys with the same empty profiles and dick pic avatars and tons of 'do me' groups. The same complaints, the same confusion, the same helplessness and yet the same refusal to make the efforts that would make it possible for a Dominant Woman to want to interact with them.  They are standing helplessly... hoping... being driven crazy... not understanding why we aren't "getting into" them.

He picks his head up, opens his eyes, it’s like a light has switched, I can see true submission in those eyes, he nods. I am so proud of my husband, I'm so proud of MYSELF. The thought enters my mind that I have molded him to exactly what I want and exactly what he never knew he wanted. I move to kneel in front of him, take his face in my hands and kiss him deeply. He moans and returns the kiss, our tongues tangling. I understand the gravity of telling a man (even a submissive) that he will never have sex again, it washes over me and I feel immediate love, gratitude, and power. I feel so deeply in love with this man who has given himself completely to me. It's time to seal this moment.    I get off my knees and squat in front of him. I feel my dress comes up over my knees. I know that on his level he can see up and get a glimpse of my underwear and that it will drive him crazy. I explain that he is to straighten out his legs, place his palms on the floor and keep them there. I tell him that I am going to untape his diaper and remove his cage then tape him back up for the rest of our conversation and that when I am finished he would be allowed to hump his diaper to orgasm. I know that the tease of a free penis will help him come to terms. The sensations will be too much for him to ever say no. I tell him to nod that he understood. He nods and I untape his diaper. I tell him how good he smells when I pull the front of his nursery print diaper away from his body. The baby powder mixed with pee...I love this smell. It is sweet and depraved, exactly how I like to be described. Our house typically smells like incense, except for the room which we made into his bedroom two years ago in March 2020. He has slept in bed with me only maybe five times since. We could easily dispose of his wet diapers right in the kitchen bin and take it out every day with the rest of the trash, but I love the smell so much that we keep an adult diaper pail in his room and empty it once a week. His locked up bits are twitching up and down as I grab the key off the table, twist it and pull out the locking mechanism. His custom Lori device has a wet sheen to it and feels slick as I pull the tube off his penis and set it on the floor. His penis grows immediately. He's not large by any means, but not tiny. If I used a vibrator while we had sex (when we did) I could actually get off, but that time is past and my power over him is far more of a turn on now than his penis ever was. I tell him to lay back as I marvel at his silent obedience, still sucking away on his pacifier, looking at me with extreme desperation and I kneel between his splayed legs. He's fully erect, with the ring of his chastity device still in place when I bring the heavy front of his wet diaper back up between his legs and tape him in. "Ok, sit up boy and I will explain our new arrangement." He sits, his hands still planted firmly on the floor and I can see the outline of his erection in the front of his nursery print diaper, it spurs me on. 

At last, another journal entry! Let's get started with my usual declaration: I am subMeghan. Right now, I am naked wearing only my glasses and my collar... And now on to today's journal entry... Apparently, my Dom has decided to introduce me to "ahegao".  Ahegao, for those, like me, who don't know, is an anime term for a specific type of face for a woman to make during sex.  The classic ahegao face is where you cross your eyes and roll them back, all the while sticking out your tongue.  My desciption does not do it justice.  Go google ahegao and you'll get a better idea of what it's all about. Apparently its a thing...  lol Making a ahegao face is harder than it looks, especially during sex.  However, my Dom wants me to do it, so I am going to do it.  My Dom recently placed a full sized mirror on the wall next to the computer.  Originally he did this so that I could see myself sitting here naked in front of the computer.  Now I get to use it to practice my ahegao face too. One thing I learned is that is is very difficult to stick your tongue and keep it still. I also realized that I can't see myself in the mirror very well when I try roll my eyes.  My Dom saiys: "The more stupid you look, the better you're doing it."  It seems I have a way to go... By now I know what my Dom wants: My Dom wants you all to visualize me just sitting here making ahegao faces.  So I am... That's all for now. subMeghan

ExxonMobil Corp has set into motion a suggestion I made to them in an email to the corporate offices. I rather laid into them for not embracing the use of hydrogen as a fuel to replace oil. Here's the response, In Baytown, Texas, they are building a chemical reactor which uses 2 componets, water and methane. There is pressure and heat applied but I can surely trust its less than the yield. The reaction produces all 8 hydrogen atoms involved. Leaving CO² which can be made solid by liquefied air. That would br dry ice as it commonly called. What this means is unlike as are told by politicians there is no power source for cars and trucks. There now is many. Composting manure will be one of those sourced, human waste both sewer and garbage. All agro byproducts even wood chips, as well as coal and other natural sources for Methane. There's a secondary win here because Methane that currently goes into the atmosphere is a serious greenhouse gas.   Hydrogen is also able to combine with Oxygen to make water and electrons. One electron per atom. This is more efficient than a battery using far less chemicals with a longer life, faster charging, and less weight allowing electric aircraft. Let not vote our way into a Putin wet dream and kill this opportunity to have an utopia.

Sadly most who have contacted me on here want so much more than I wantI want a real relationship with lots of tender vanilla timeBut this is sex. Just this. Mid week is jacking off on my healing tits or titty fucking meVery rarely do we have penetrative sex. I seek an equal partner in my vanilla life. I'm strong and independen.  I just need to be degraded like this and used as titty cum rag

When covid came about, i/we did everything we could to protect ourselves.   To this day we continue to do everything we can to protect ourselves.   My 1st bout with covid was due to my boss not having any sense   Running a fever stay away from people, he came to my desk.   I have had both vaccines and the booster.   Had i not taken another covid test would not have known i was positive.   Moral of the story:   Just because you are vaccinated you can still catch. I did not have any symptoms yet i was positive and could pass the virus to someone else.   Stay safe / stay healthy   i don't know about you; however, i am over it.

I recently sent this to a few people who DMed me: "Did you send this to me by mistake? It reads as though you are in the middle of a conversation with someone else."   As it turns out, people are referring to journal posts I have made days, weeks or even months in the past WITHOUT AN INTRODUCTION EXPLAINING WHY THEY ARE WRITING TO ME.    It does not take much to preface a message with, "I saw your most recent journal post here and I think ..." or "I was doing a deep dive into your journal here and I noticed ..."   I do not re-read my journal every time I log on. My DMs are not the comments section of my journal. Indeed, journal entries here are not like forum topics where the the context is already obvious.  So if you write me about something I posted to my journal and I have no idea what you are talking about, now you know why I sent you that type of reply.

This success of this site is based on transparency. You're a 52 year old dominant man in Miami who lives for NASCAR and wax play. Super. Got it. In my opinion, the level of effort you put into your profile directly relates to your commitments. It's so odd to see someone say that it takes forever for profiles to update so they take the lazy approach and update a journal entry. Yep, I said it. Lazy. Dom or sub, doesn't matter. You've gone to the trouble of creating a profile to find someone for whatever reason. Now you aren't willing to commit to the effort it takes to update for accuracy. The only effort needed is a bit of patience. Patience to adjust your information. Patience to adapt your description to make you more interesting, or at least approachable. I'll write more later... No, you won't. Someone who might be looking for exactly you is going to pass you by because now you're 56 and moved to Sheboygan but won't update so they'll never see it. You're shooting yourself in the foot. Not that anyone asked me. 

I got some feed back on my last journal entry and thouht I should try to clear up some points.The topic of "collar of consideration or under consideration collars" is one that has been discussed among Masters and slaves.Our houser believes that the Master who has placed a slave under consideration is either having trouble deciding whether they want the slave to be a part of their house, or they want the pleasure of controlling and using the slave without committing to the responsibility of ownership.Both actions are fundamentally wrong. If the Master is unsure if the slave is worthy of wearing their collar, they should communicate with the slave and discuss any concerns they may have.Collaring a slave is a serious commitment that should not be taken lightly. A Master should reveal to the slave what is expected of them if they wear the Master's collar and what their boundaries and duties will be. The slave has a simple, yet complex duty, to please the desires and will of the Master. In reality, it is the slave who should offer themselves to the Master for enslavement and collaring, not the other way around.The goal of the Master is to help the slave become the best slave it can be and to guide them to that end. My house has never personally offered a collar to a slave, but has learned from more experienced couples in the lifestyle to wait until it is asked for. MasterG

Took all the time to write this so I thought I'd save it here.     Two explorer's are deep in Africa when they are captured by head hunters.  The head hunters bind them each to a pole and carry them for 3 days over hills across a river and through the forest where they finally come to the village.   At the village they are untied and thrown into a cage.  That night the villagers throw a massive party where they feast drink alcohol and dance.     At the height of the festivities the Chief calls for silence and approaches the cage.  Our two explorers see this huge guy standing about 6' 8" tall approach them and they begin to quake.   The Chief points at our first explorer with his big hammock like hands and yells in this deep voice that carries to all ends of the village.   "You! Death or RooRoo?   The first explorer squeaks out " I don't want to die, I'll take RooRoo!"   The Chief turns back to the village and yells "ROOROO!!!"   The tribe goes insane with cheering dancing and drinking and our explorer is pulled from the cage stripped and thrown face down over a log and every man in the village jumps his bones.   The Chief then stomps back to the cage and points at the other explorer.   "You!!  Death or RooRoo?"   The explorer with a look of fear on his face yells back.  "Screw that Rooroo deal I choose death!"   The Chief turns around raising one  raising one massive paw and pronounces the sentence.   "DEATH BY ROOROO!!!"   And the crowd goes wild!  

Master does not chat with prospective slave property before inspection.   Exception: I will offer a picture of Master and the opportunity to ask limited questions to potential slave property that completely fill out My questionnaire. it may request the opportunity to complete the questionnaire any time after a firm date and time for inspection has been established.   Some slaves may find the questionnaire too invasive. In the process of taking a slave property into My domain I will sooner or later know everything about it. It is just a matter of timing: tell Me now or tell Me later. Send its email address when requesting questionnaire.  I prefer to use email for this exchange.   Reading all the material Master has here on offer will divulge much about what slave may expect as property.

more to come here is a taste of the next part   Slave and pet are now preparing you for what will be the most by far the largest/greatest thing you have ever done in your whole life time.  This will truly test your love, might and soul.   You look around the lit up room and see a full dungeon for what is worth.  Rows of floggers, canes, cat-n-nines, hung so neatly, placed on one wall. You see several shapes, sizes, thicknesses and all different colors. You have never seen such a collection this large before.  Your attention is brought to the one that is glittering in the light, off to the left middle side.  It shimmers softly in the glow of the room.

Fantacy vs reality Oct 17 2019 Dommes are people.   Like, actual, real human beings who have jobs, family, friends, pets, hobbies, fears, insecurities, frustrations, get colds, get sunburns, do household chores, sleep badly, have bad dreams, have bad days at work, have good dreams, have side hustles, spill soup, yawn, ... everything that everyone else does.   Most of the emails I get aren't writing me. They are writing The Beautiful and Goddesslike Domme in the Tall Boots and The Sexy Corset.   It's a lot like writing Robert Downey Jr. and thanking him for saving the world that time when he flew into the black hole and you're sorry it scared him. Or maybe more like talking to a cardboard cutout of Iron Man at the theater, and expecting it to help you soup up your car so that it flies.   There is a real person behind all of that. But if you aren't interested in them, if you aren't interacting with them, asking about their actual life, treating them like a person? You are focused on the image you have, and treating it like it's the reality. Not a good look for anyone.   Which is not saying that the Domme in The Tall Boots isn't really me. It's just that it's this teeny slice of the whole me, and when you treat me like it's the only part that matters, you diminish me to a flat, limited function of my outside appearance. And it tells me that you aren't really very grounded or realistic.   The thing that I feel makes The Domme in The Tall Boots (I should copyright that) so fabulous is the mind and personality inside. The intelligence that makes me recognize patterns and respond quickly. The ethics that mean I won't lie or manipulate or abuse people when they put their trust in me. The talent that lets me learn quickly and develop new skills for better play. The understanding of human behavior and insightful nature that helps me know what others are thinking / feeling even when they don't say it out loud, and find the best response. The self control that keeps me level when play gets heated so that I don't destroy my playtoys.   And so much more... all the things that took a lifetime to build, and which have nothing to do with my face. All of these things would still be a part of me if my skin slid off and my hair fell out and I was a hideous bog monster.   These are the things that I think make me a quality person, and a good Domme. When someone writes an email saying "the most beautiful domme in the whole world You are a Goddess A domme like you is worth moving for" I know they aren't really responding to anything I've written. They are looking at a picture, and imagining who I am, filling in all the blanks with their ideal Domme's traits.   Much like that Boston song - "You must understand this I've watched you for so long That I feel I've known you I know it can't be wrong"   They see, they assume, they create a whole person in their heads that wears my face and my kinky clothes, and then they imagine that person wanting to do all the things to them that they want done. They write a letter to that person professing their undying devotion and expressing how much they are looking forward to all those things.   Meanwhile, I'm sitting over here in my pajamas with a cat on my lap trying to dry my hair after a shower, considering what to have for my bedtime snack, remembering that I didn't water the hibiscus twigs, and get blindsided with a huge wave of words written to ... I dunno who. But she has my face, so I'm expected to respond accordingly. And they get upset when I don't. I've ruined their fantasy. And disrupted their wank fodder.   And the sender never knows that they wrote a cardboard cutout while missing the actual amazingness of the real person.   I suppose it's the reverse of the situation Dustin Hoffman discussed in an interview when he realized he hadn't bothered to interact with women who didn't look a certain way, and now that he saw himself dressed as a woman and didn't look like that, he wouldn't have talked to himself as a woman, and understood how many amazing women he missed out on meeting because of it. [youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yuaiR89iofE[/youtube]   And honestly, I am, like most women, in that same boat. If I fail to wear The Tall Boots and The Sexy Corset with the proper primping and makeup, 99% of men won't notice me at all, much less fall at my feel begging to be spanked and pegged. Their fantasy is very specific - THIS look, doing THAT act. Anything else is invisible to them. So when I am seeking a sub, such as on here or at a play party, I "Perform Femininity." And I do it well. Hence the emails. But other than that...   I become invisible if I wrap up my hair over a naked face to do yardwork. Not to everyone, but to a majority of the male population. Which is why so many me

In shadows deep where secrets lie, A man of strength, beneath the sky, Dominance etched upon his face, Yet hidden yearnings seek their place.   He walks with power, commands the air, Yet dreams of moments soft and rare, Of tender hands and whispered might, Of yielding to her gentle light.   She stands before him, eyes aglow, A force of nature, soft and slow, In her presence, he finds release, His iron will begins to cease.   For in her gaze, he finds his home, No longer does he need to roam, To her, he gives his crown and throne, Under her strength, he's not alone.   He surrenders all, his power and pride, And kneels before her, nothing to hide, In submission's sweet and tender grace, He finds his true and rightful place.   Her touch is soft, yet holds command, A gentle force, a guiding hand, She leads him to a world unseen, There is strength and softness and inbetween.   In yielding to her, he is free, A paradox of strength to be, Her words, a balm, her voice, a song, Under her power, where he belongs.   Sometimes bound by iron chains, He feels the strenght of her reign, In her dominion, he is whole, She claims his heart, she owns his soul.   For in her power, he finds peace, A harmony that will not cease, In sweet submission, he is known, Her slave at rest, underneath her throne.    

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

Be local!oh for fuck's sake people.  If you tell me you are interested, that you are LOCAL, and I agree to meet and tell it to  you to arrange it.....friggin' arrange a meeting. It's not rocket science.   Do it in a TIMELY manner. I am not waiting any longer than a week to see you face to face.  Delay tells me you are in this for the fantasy only and I am not here to cater to your little wank fantasies. Don't waste my time. So get off the gawddamn pot and decide when and where.geezus

This account is old (ish) and my priorities have shifted. A power exchange dynamic (as my name suggests) is no longer a pursuit in-and-of itself. I am no longer interested in the energy expendature with shoe-horning a personality type into a role they can't possibly achieve for a multitude of reasons. Shit works or it doesn't. Things align or they don't...or you work to make you align or you don't. However, a natural alignment of a square peg to a square hole gets you part-way there. My priority, instead, is authenticity independent of any prescribed dynamic. If I can't crawl inside you and feel you, I don't know how to be interested in you. 

Tonight I Want...   It was Monday and Daddy text messaged her around 10am:   “White knee highs”   She smiled. She loved getting his texts. It made the day 100 times better because she knew he was thinking about her.   At noon came the next message:   “Red butt plug.”   Candi gulped.  The red butt plug wasn’t one of the smaller in their collection.  She clenched remembering how full she’d felt the last time Daddy let her wear it.  She probably should even leave about 30 minutes earlier just to work it into her ass and be ready for him when he got home.   At 2pm came two more messages:   “mouth”   “swallow”   Daddy’s Monday was probably not going so well.  She was sure Daddy''s evening would be better.   He came in the door and after looking through the day’s mail he grabbed a cold beer and headed into the living room where his favorite chair waited.  He could smell the dinner his little girl had in the crock pot and was glad the evening was shaping up to be relatively low key and not demanding.  Work had been tough and he was looking forward to the plans he’d set in motion that morning.   Using the remote on the entertainment system he turned on some music, kicked off his shoes and threw his head back closing his eyes and just waited.  He’d hoped she wouldn’t keep him waiting long.  A whipping hadn’t been in tonight’s plans, but he’d improvise if he had to.   She heard the music come on and knew he was settled.  She’d gotten home early, stripped, showered and slipped on her special little girl socks.  Then lying on her side and lubing the red butt plug up, she worked it slowly past her tight sphincter, some tears filling her eyes as the large bulb stretched her wide before finally pushed beyond her opening, the thankful muscle finally closing around the much smaller stem.  She’d been holding her breath until the vacuum had sucked the plug inside her hastening the feeling of fullness and she exhaled in relief.  Daddy had specified wearing only socks and the plug.  She wished he’d let her wear even a see-thru nightie or even a tight, white blouse, but that’s not what he wanted.  She’d also taken her shoulder length blond hair and pulled them into two pigtails.  Just the right amount of hair for Daddy to hold onto.