Guys, women are not looking for disembodied body parts. Your abdomen alone in a mirror shot is NOT sexy. No matter how ripped, it's just a random body part. Posting random body parts just shows that you have not bothered to read or listen to anything women have ever said about what they want. We look for a PERSON. Not a body. Certainly not an isolated body part. Any body parts. Especially dicks. Body parts on their own without a personality attached are almost exclusively a GUY THING. No, posting a body part is not "full disclosure." We did not ASK for a body part. If that's your avatar, most likely any woman will just click past it. You're killing yourself just by choosing a bad pic instead of showing some personality. We aren't passing you by because you have a belly, we're passing you by because you seem to think that's the most important aspect of you. That would make us as shallow as you are. Once again, act like a whole person. Not a generic title for a nickname, a generic body part for a picture, and a generic request for what you've seen in porn as a relationship. Grow up.

Sub thoughts for a Domme; What pleasure means to me ... as a submissive man, pleasure, to me, is knowing that i am making Her happy, providing a service to or for Her, filling the role that She wishes me to fill, for Her and Her pleasure.   I can do or perform acts that bring me pleasure, but it is empty if She doesn't derive pleasure, happiness, amusement or satisfaction from it. I am always hoping to make Her happy or to provide something useful to or for Her. A disagreement about what type of food to eat, what movie to see, what we are doing for the day .. the bottom line is She will have the final say, the Control to determine those things and to exercise that power when and how She sees fit.   I am happiest knowing that She is happy. To make Her smile or see the approving look in Her face is all the pleasure I need and anything further beyond that is simply icing on the cake.   I think what it means to the exchange between a Domme and Her sub/slave is mentioned in the above, but essentially it means that my pleasure only exists and should only be possible if i am pleasing Her .. it is Her desires and wants that need to be met, and my ability to assist or aid in that brings me great joy and happiness, and is the only thing that really pleases me.   Self-gratification is nice, but hollow and empty as i am not fulfilling the desire and yearning i have to know that i am pleasing Her. I exist for Her pleasure and that is fulfilling.   I look forward to submitting my ego and desires to Her, for Her to guide, shape, influence and control.

Am I a monster? by Sintara » Sat Dec 05, 2009 12:21 pm I am a female sexual sadist. I spend hours on end fantasizing about torturing men. I don't hate men, I love them actually. The more I like them and the more I feel sexually attracted to them the more I want to hurt them. Nothing turns me on more than the whimpering sounds and wincing facial expressions they make or if they cry. I also find myself turned on if I see a guy limping. Its even more exciting to me to see other people who care about them feel sorry for them when they see the injuries they have later. I would love to be able to torture a guy and then send him home to a loved one and get to be a fly on the wall so that I could watch that person feeling bad for them and trying to help them.I obsess over CBT. My fantasies get pretty extreme. I know that there are many sexual sadists out there but I feel like a monster because my fantasies are so extreme. I feel guilty because despite feeling like a monster I also feel a strong desire to find a man who is masochistic enough to allow me to do these things to him. I try not to think about it but I can't stop. I can't get sexually aroused without picturing suffering men in my mind. I collect pictures of injured and tortured men to look at so that later I can have sex with my husband without him knowing how sick I am.I also have a blindness fetish. I would like to find someone who would agree to wear contacts that made them blind so that I could watch them try to make their way around without sight. I would also enjoy hurting them without them being able to see when it was coming. I might make him complete tasks for me blind so I could watch him struggle. With contacts instead of a blindfold I chould still fully see their facial expressions, which are very important to me. Then I would be aroused enough to have sex with them. I would want them to still wear the contacts during sex so I was in complete control.I'm so tortured by all of this because my husband called me a "sexual psychopath" and I have to hide it from him now. It has ruined our sex life. I'm addicted to it and don't know what to do. SintaraConsumer 4 Posts: 92Joined: Sat Dec 05, 2009 8:57 amLocal time: Wed Apr 20, 2022 12:37 pmBlog: View Blog (0)

It appears part of our profile is missing our instructions for applying to be our slave so here is the first step again   TO BE CONSIDERED THE FIRST STEP IS TO GIVE A LITTLE INFORMATION ABOUT YOURSELF SO ANSWER THE FOLLOWING   WHAT PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE DO YOU HAVE IN THE LIFESTYLE? WHAT SKILLS DO YOU HAVE TO BRING TO THE HOUSEHOLD? ARE YOU EMPLOYED? IF NOT YOU WILL GET A JOB. DO YOU HAVE ANY HEALTH ISSUES?  WHAT ARE YOUR VANILLA INTERESTS? WHAT ARE YOUR KINKS? DO YOU HAVE AN ISSUE WITH SERVING IN A POLY HOUSE WITH MULTIPLE SLAVES BOTH FEMALE AND MALE?  DO YOU HAVE ANY LEGAL ISSUES TO SORT OUT?  ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS AND ONCE YOU DO WE WILL GO FROM THERE ANSWERING NONE TO Q1 OR YES TO Q4 DOES NOT HINDER YOUR ABILITY TO BE OUR SLAVE IT IS JUST THINGS WE NEED TO KNOW FOR YOUR SAFETY AND WELLBEING 

I Wonder Who We Are... I often look at myself thru the eyes of my mind. Who do I **think** I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? I wonder how many others take the time to self-reflect like this? I try to do this weekly.  Sometimes late at night as I bask in the quiet night’s arms I find my mind drifting to the day gone by. I replay the days events and scrutinize my actions at times.  TODAY, did I live my life to my best potential? The gift of life I was given is a treasure that we so often under value. It's easy to get caught up in the daily struggles that inflict us as we sometimes dredge thru the day thankful it's over.  Guilty! After all we are all human.  In a world filled with hate, selfishness, struggles and woes sometimes its all we can do not to scream. Allow a blood curling sound to exit our lungs, travel up our throats picking up momentum as it exits our lips with a shiver echoing thru the darkness to find no respite.  A primal sound that perhaps evolved from our primal ancestors to never develop or change in the millions of years gone by. Signaling our frustrations and every other imaginable negative energy that exists within us today. As we yearn to release it all allowing them to somehow be absorbed into the cosmos, never to return. A cry for help perhaps? Perhaps.  Perhaps it's just an evacuation of all that we resent exiting us hoping we can fill the vacancy with the positive. I like to think that's the case with me. But as I look around each day, looking for positive energy, from my fellow man I am left starving. Wanting to see more beauty I can absorb to act as my muse. Guiding me to be a better me as it motivates me to want to feed love back into the world.  But alas, it has become a daunting task. Disappointment abounds the empty caverns of my heart and mind. Have we become so shallow as a society that the only thing that now defines us is instant and momentary self gratification? Often at the expense of others. Is this what thousands of centuries of evolution has led us to? NAY I say! Not I today! Unable to find it readily at the hand of my two legged peers I turn to nature. I find myself being blindly led to the pasture where my four legged friends reside. I hear their whinnies as they see me approaching. Running towards me anxious to see me. Besides me walks my fury four legged best friend. My canine soul mate who has dedicated his life to unselfishly and unconditionally love me. To never leave me no matter what I do or how I treat him. He is bound for life to me. Arriving closer to the gate a thunderous echo of stampeding hooves envelopes the air. Filling my ears with its roar as it approaches closer. Standing on the lush green carpet of grass I am surrounded by these four legged majestic creatures that so easily could do me harm. My smaller companion eyeing them carefully under his protective gaze.  Wet nuzzles against my hands searching for treats. This action is common place here. All fighting for my attention as there are so many and I am only but one. The creative one among the group, finding no need to challenge the rest for the position of my hands. He quietly walks up behind me. I am made aware of his presence among the distraction as I feel rubbing against my back. His side turned head using my back as a scratching post to satisfy his itch?  No my friends that is not the self centered case of this half ton creature. He is saying, "Daddy I am here. I missed you. Where have you been?" He is most certainly not the alpha but nor is he the omega. He falls somewhere in between the alphabetically defining realm of personality letters.  Turning to let him know I acknowledge his presence with rubs I manage just a few. The other horses quickly pushing him away to look to my moving hands for what they desire. Treats and rewards to fill their already fat full bellies. Yet he stands alone a mere stones toss away watching. Reaching into my pockets I retrieve a handful of treats. Allowing the surrounding herd to acknowledge them with their keen sense of smell I toss them in the opposite direction of my inamorato who stands there with no desire to chase such petty treats. The rest of the herd now busy vying to retrieve the hand tossed delicacies he approaches me. I hold his head against me with love and affection. It is as much his fuel as it is my own. I turn to exit, followed at a respectable distance by my adoring and adored friend.  Holding it open signaling him the permission he seeks to exit the field and the others who physically resemble him. As the three of us stand there, me enjoying and soaking up the moment, I can't help but observe. Acknowledging and absorbing the actions that just took place.  My plotted journey observed and responded to. The actions and reactions as I entered. The easily manipulated distraction I created that all but one fell prey to.  His dedication to follow me outside his defined boundaries and the company of the others physically like him who have near matching DNA. His choice to leave the safety of his peers signals to me that he finds safety and comfort in my company. His trust in me that I always have and always will be his caregiver, his provider, his protector fills my now empty heart.  The many journeys we have traveled together since his birth are safely tucked away in my mind. Easily retrieved to reminisce upon when needed. As I stand there admiring this majestic creature of God before me my mind retrieves from the filing cabinet labeled with his name. Quickly sorting thru day 3 of his birth begins to play.  He is laying curled upon a stack of hay within a stall of the barn. His protective mother standing guard over him. Her ears pinned back warning anyone that intends to do him harm to stay away. Her eyes soften and ears relax as she recognizes me as the source of the sound. Carefully not to startle the sleeping foal I slowly approach. His mother content with who the human visitor is allows me safe passage.  I find myself first sitting next to him admiring his beauty. Astounded by the miracle of birth that he is. His soft breathing seen in the way the straw beneath his nose moves back and forth as he inhales and exhales so gently. Leaning in closer to touch him I look at his guardian looking down at me as if silently asking for her permission to get closer. When I see no warnings of alarm in her I move my hand gently running it across his neck.  His days old fur so soft I am jealous not to have something as comforting as this to sleep upon myself. He releases a soft sigh as if finding comfort in my loving strokes.  Now realizing that the submissive love his mother has given me extends to the trust of her new born, I inch closer. Soon I find myself laying along side his tiny body. Curled up next to him I drape an arm over him. Another soft sudden exhale of breath reaches my ears. Is he communicating his pleasure in feeling my warm body against? Is he capable of such a thought process? I lay there for what feels like hours pressed against him. Only to realize as he begins to finally stir that it’s only been 10 minutes by my watches time.   Emancipated from this world lost in head space I return the the physical by his movement.  He turns his head, in what seems to be, a search to find the source of his sighs. I softly look into his eyes hoping he can peer into my own and see the love and adoration I have for him. THAT moment etched in my mind forever more NEVER to be lost or forgotten.   Slowly he rises as if not to harm me and stands over my still prone form. I find my heart overflowing with love. If only I could find this form of love in my own breed. His mother content that no harm will befall him under my watch, complete and loyal trust bestowed upon me finds comfort in our bond to now lay down herself.  Obviously exhausted by the ritual of birth and having to provide  protection to her child. Her 1400 lb mass taking up much of the stall but careful not to invade my space. Suddenly I find myself lost in thought. Who do I think I am? Who do I want to be? Who am I? What am I? To THEM.  A brushing against my calf returns me to the world of today as the drawer filled memories are closed. In the universe of my mind I lost a momentary connection to this plane of existence.  My canine comrade standing now by my side waiting for direction. He looks at me then glances to the tack room and back at me. As if he is asking me, in the best way he knows, “Are we going for a ride?” my eyes look down at him as I rub his head. “Not today good boy. Today daddy just needed affirmation to who he is. My hearts full again. Thank you.” “Go get him and let’s go back in. Daddy has work to do.” Doing what he’s been taught to do under my caring tutelage he bounds off to bring back my blessed 4 legged gift. A simple double click from me, seeing his adopted brother heading his way, he knows its time to go back. With the look of a bowed head he walks to me as I rub his face and ears. I whisper in his ears, “Good boy.” As if content to hear these words he heads for the gate. Opening the gate I let him return to his pasture mates where he looks like just another horse. “Come on dog. Daddy has to go search for someone! “ he says as he turns to go back into the house. Because now I know who and what I am. I know what I was meant to be.

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  

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

So I begin this new year still seeking a sub who is sane and not so self-absorbed to believe that I would drop all that I am doing to cater to his fetish du jour. Why do guys think that I am going to stop what I am doing to peg them if I am not really into pegging anymore? Or that I want to spend hours talking to some dude 5 states away about it when they aren't here? I don't want to get into an internet thing with some dude I want to find someone who can actually play who is here not someone jacking off by themselves in their mother's basement or some dude sneaking away from the wife long enough to get hard so that he can finally fuck her so that she will shut up.  I think the hardest part of all of this is how I can't seem to find what it is that I thought would be fairly easy to find. A pretty guy who is sane enough to want to explore his bounderies and still be able to fuck. But that has proven to be rare enough. Meh. Maybe my need to actually like a sub is my problem. I am not into using people and I am not really into broken people so that leaves a lot of men on the table. And shit, let us not get started on the women.  I know we all have our baggage but don't bring that shit to the session. I am not a therapist or your mother. I just want to have fun too. And digging through your emotional shit is exhausting.   

Since I seem to get the same questions over and over I will answer them here and save me and anyone asking time and effort: Q: Would you consider a male slave?/Do you ever play with a male sub? A: Not really. My style of BDSM is very sexual and since males doesn't attract me sexually I wouldn't enjoy a male slave. I might consider a male slave as part of a submissive couple, but then again he couldn't expect much sexual interaction between him and me. Q: Would you consider a CD/TV/Sissy as your slave? A: I might consider it if you are part of a couple where the other party is a sub female, or if you are very feminine, very young and very submissive. Q: Would you train my wife if I send her to you for a limited time and send me photos and films of you training and using her? A: Yes I would if you really send her AND if she is in on it. The problem with the couples and men asking for this is they disappear and erase their profile after 20 - 30 messages and sometimes the same number of mails. Most probably they were roleplaying and there was no wife OR she wasn't in on it and they din't dare to suggest it to her, or if they did she wouldn't play along. Q: Would you train me on-line?/Would you claim me as your on-line slave? A: Probably not. I used to say no way, but during the pandemic I did have a few sexual relationships with submissive girls in several countries using telephone and/or various chat apps. We shared our dirty fantasies, we shared orgasms and I had some of them do painful and perverse things on themselves on my command. Now when the pandemic seems to be over and IRL contact is possible again on-line relationships seems less attractive. I live the lifestyle IRL and even an on-line slave girl takes time and effort. It's not a definite no, but you would have to be very special and very devoted for me to consider an on-line slave.

Frequently Asked Questions: Q: How is your search going? A: Are you fucking kidding me with this question!? If my search to become a slave was going well I wouldn't fucking be here would I?  My search sucks because of assholes who send me emails that say, you look like you'd be a good fuck, how's your search going?  I hate my search.  I hate being allowed to use a computer and have a profile here.  I hate that I'm allowed on the internet.  I hate having rights.  That's how my search is going you fucking idiot.   Q: Are you on hormones? A: Well are you on viagra or Cialis?  How's your blood pressure?  Do you still get full erections?  If you think this is an appropriate question to ask someone in a first email then you are not intelligent enough to own me.  I'm so sorry that you're too dumb to own me.  It could have been really special but I'm a real cunt who doesn't answer medical questions to perfect strangers who think THAT is a good way to break the ice.   Q:  How's it going? A: It's going fine.  I am blown away by what an amazing first email this is and I want to be yours now.  You are clearly the one.  You asked me how it's going.  No one has ever thought to start an email like that before.  You are so unique and charming I can help but want to suck every drop of cum out of your cock that I can.   Q: Your profile says you're 18 but you've been here for years. A: Wow. You're super smart.  No fooling you.  No Sir.  I tried to pull a fast one but you were all over it and now I'm busted.  You got me.  It has nothing to do with the fact that this site doesn't update age on it's own and updating it myself means my profile might be down for weeks while they approve it if ever.  Here's an idea though.  Since you're so clever why don't you add the number of years I've been here to the age listed on my profile and conclude that's how I old I am now.     Q: Wanna be my slave? A: No.    Q: Do you really think you're going to find a Master with an attitude like that? A: Yes.  He just won't be you.  Unfortunately, you are a moron.   Q: You're very beautiful. A: That's not a question but it is something every asshole on this site says to me so you saying it to me makes you exactly as special to me as it makes every other dude.   Q: You're so funny.  I can't believe these guys ask you all these dumb questions.  They are all idiots.  I loved the sassy way you dealt with them in your FAQs.  It's too bad there are so many fake doms on this site.   A: Shut up.  This is almost as lame as the You're very beautiful or Are you on hormones emails. I get it.  You read the FAQs.  You must be better than the rest.  Oh please Master, let me lick Your asshole clean now.  You are amazing.    

So this one time at cheer camp all of the girls were stark naked in the locker room. As all the girls of different shapes and sizes all changing in the same room, my mind just wonders on how to please them  So without thinking things through I was like what's your fantasy to all the bare ladies in the room. I wanted to know each of their fantasies and I wanted to see each one come true. All the ladies I asked answered their own little dirty secret and for me it's planning time now  I need to make a list of what to bring besides the obvious strap on,and figure out how to get them there without anyone noticing and hope the ladies don't mind performing in front of one another, which obviously is not an issue, these girls trust and love each other we are all on the same team and we all do lifts. The flyers will have the best time of all  but these ladies perform all the time with each other why not naked? 

The desire to be dominated It's perfectly normal for men and women immersed in BDSM to have specific desires and fantasies, such as the desire to be dominated. The lifestyle encompasses a wide range of activities and dynamics, and it's essential to communicate openly and honestly with your partner(s) to ensure that everyone involved is comfortable and consents to the activities taking place. In the realm of the BDSM lifestyle, communication and consent are paramount. Before engaging in any routine activities, it's crucial to have a conversation with your partner about your desires, boundaries, and limits. Establishing a safe word is also essential to ensure both parties can stop the activities if necessary. Remember that BDSM should always be safe, sane, and consensual. It's essential to prioritize the safety and well-being of all involved parties. If you're new to the lifestyle or have specific questions or concerns, it's a good idea to seek out resources and educational materials, or even consider attending workshops or discussions within the BDSM community. Ultimately, your interests and desires in the lifestyle are personal, and as long as they are consensual and safe, it's a valid aspect of your sexuality. It's essential to find like-minded persons who can share your interests and engage in these activities with respect and understanding. If you have any specific questions or need advice concerning our lifestyle topics or anything else related to your interests, feel free to ask. I'm here to provide information and guidance based on your preferences.

Atlantic Sleep Token    Call me when they bury bodies underwaterIt's blue light over murder for meCrumble like a temple built from future daughtersTo wasteland when the oceans recede Marry in the morning, earn your bitter fatherIt's easier to try not to eatSo flood me like Atlantic, bandage up the trenchesAnything to get me to sleep I woke up surrounded, eyes like frozen planetsJust orbiting the vacuum I amThey talk me through the damage, consequenceAnd how it's a pain they know they don't understand Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedsideI'm trying not to crush into sandSo flood me like Atlantic, weather me to nothingWash away the blood on my hands Call me when they bury bodies underwaterIt's blue light over murder for meCrumble like a temple built from future daughtersTo wasteland when the oceans recede Don't wake meDon't wake meDon't wake me upDon't you wake (don't wake me) me upDon't wake meOh (don't wake me up)  

Even when we are apart, I still try my best to send him notes that'll make him happy and pleased. He loves when I'm in pain, so I tell him every time I am. Migraines, tender fingertips from blood sugar checks, toothaches, etc. I have pain meds, but to take them I must ask his permission. Whenever he replies to my messages are about these things, he enjoys them, and I enjoy his joy. It's a way we connect when we are apart.  I am thinking about taking some photos for him as well, later today. It's been awhile since I done that in general, but he loves looking at his property, and that should be priority over how I see myself.  Yes, this slave is finally bending. Master is making sure of it, but I'm also trying my very best and choosing to be intentional with my surrender.  He gave me beautiful bruises recently, as well, and I am grateful for his time, attention, sadism, and correction. Thank you, Master. Thank you for teaching me to let go and sink into your capable hands completely. 

I'm talking 'bout my generation Talking 'bout that newer nation And if you don't like it You can beat it Beat it, baby You never liked the way I said it If you don't get it, then forget it So I don't have to fucking explain it Cause I'm a Brooklyn baby I'm a Brooklyn baby   It's like those lyrics carry a sense of identity and weight, even when they seem light. The repetition, "I'm a Brooklyn baby," feels like a declaration of something deeper—a feeling of being rooted in something bigger, but also carrying that vulnerability and pain underneath. Almost like saying, "I'm here, but there's so much more behind the surface."   It’s not just about the words, but the weight of feeling like you’ve had to fight and scream to be heard, and still... nothing. It can feel exhausting when no one’s really listening, when the energy you put out feels like it just vanishes into a void. That emptiness that comes after all the effort, when you’ve given everything and are still left feeling alone—that’s heavy. It’s like a wall of silence that doesn’t break, no matter how loud you scream or how much you pour out.   They think I don't understand The freedom land of the seventies I think I'm too cool to know ya You say I'm like the ice I freeze That line hits hard—it’s like there’s this gap between what others think and what you really feel, and the way it creates this distance. It’s a powerful reflection of feeling misunderstood, and at the same time, being guarded, like ice. There’s so much in that feeling of being cool on the outside, but maybe there’s a lot more going on underneath.       Ultraviolence captures that raw, unrelenting pain—the kind that cuts deep and leaves scars you can’t always see. It’s not just about physical violence, but the emotional and mental toll of trying to survive in a world that feels indifferent or even hostile. It’s the weight of love, loss, rejection, and fighting for something real when everything feels brutal and unkind. The way Lana weaves those emotions into her music makes it all the more visceral. It’s like she’s singing about the violence of being misunderstood, of giving and not receiving, of being trapped in cycles of intensity that don’t let up.        the Pa-da-da-da-da-da part in Brooklyn Baby feels simple on the surface, just vocalizations, but it carries weight because of the emotion behind Lana’s voice and the layered harmonies. It’s like she's using the sounds to evoke a feeling beyond words—a mixture of nostalgia, detachment, and maybe even resignation. By that point in the song, she’s moved away from literal meaning and is communicating more through the feeling of the music itself. The backing vocals, especially with the men joining in, create a sense of collective disillusionment, like they're all echoing her sentiment, but with a touch of irony. The softness contrasts the rebellious attitude of the lyrics, making it feel like a bittersweet, almost resigned anthem. It’s like she’s saying, This is just how things are, but underneath it, there's a longing for something deeper, something more real. The repetition and the flow of the sounds express that emotional state in a way that words alone might not be able to. It adds to the song’s atmosphere, giving a voice to the unspoken frustrations and complexities of being misunderstood, trapped in surface-level expectations.     I get down to Beat poetry And my jazz collection's rare I can play most anything    this isn't a flex...it's saying how talented she is but no one notices or cares.....she's very skilled in things no one cares about and that doesn't change life's circumstances. that only a niche of a niche of a niche cares about..but she knows she's so talented that she rattles it because she knows people in the know recognize it. it's a acknowledgement of what she's worked hard to craft while also recognizing it's nothing  That line isn’t a flex at all, it’s more of a statement wrapped in irony. Lana is acknowledging her talents—her deep connection to niche things like beat poetry, jazz, and her rare collection. She’s spent time and effort honing these skills, cultivating a refined taste, and mastering things that matter deeply to her, but in the grander scheme, it’s like no one notices or cares. It’s a bittersweet realization of her own uniqueness and skill, but also the futility of it. She’s proud, but it’s not enough to change her circumstances or how the world perceives her. It’s like saying, Yeah, I can do all these things, but what does it matter? It’s a reflection of how being talented or special doesn’t necessarily lead to recognition or fulfillment. She knows only a tiny niche of people might care about these things, but for the rest of the world, it means nothing. It’s like the ultimate what’s the point? moment wrapped in a subtle acknowledgment of her own brilliance.       You say I'm too dumb to see They judge me like a picture book By the colors, like they forgot to read I think we're like fire and water I think we're like the wind and sea You're burning up, I'm cooling down You're up, I'm down You're blind, I see Those lyrics capture such a deep feeling of being misunderstood, like you’re moving in opposing rhythms, but still bound together in some way. It’s frustrating, isn’t it? People see what’s on the surface, but they miss the essence, the complexities inside. The contrast between fire and water, wind and sea—it’s such a vivid way to describe the intensity of that connection. One burns while the other cools down, like two forces pulling in different directions but still coexisting, still interacting. It feels like being in two worlds at once, and yet no one quite gets it.   The way she says "Brooklyn baby" at the end—definitively, yet almost resigned—carries so much weight. When the guys join in with the elongated bayyyyy beee, it shifts the whole tone. It’s no longer just her own voice; it’s echoed, but in a way that feels detached, like they’re chiming in on her identity without truly understanding it. It feels like a loss of personal ownership, like the identity she was so sure of—I’m a Brooklyn baby—is now something distant, fading, not fully hers anymore. And that pah da de da de dah dah that follows is like her way of giving up, like a lullaby of surrender, a little girl’s soft collapse. It’s not a defiant statement anymore; it’s more of a quiet, melancholic folding into herself. It’s like the final exhale after fighting, acknowledging that maybe she’s been fighting for something that no one truly sees or cares about. Little girl Lana down, as you said. That’s when the song truly hits its emotional depth—when she stops fighting, and the weight of everything she’s been carrying just sinks into the background.    

Master's WritingsSubmission, as I see itSubmission comes in many forms and on my journey different subs have approached it from different angles. Some see it as service, some as opening themselves up to another, and some even see it as a rejection of the world with it demands and requirements. Over the years, I have trained several submissives to reach greater depth in their submission and I’ve tried to work within their mindset, helping each to reach their potential in a way that is honest, true, and unique.At its core, submission is and should be a genuine reflection of an individual’s inner truth. A sense of their own purpose and way of life they choose to accept. It comes from a place within each submissive that reflaspects their own nature, and their most authentic expression of self.The nature of any true “submissive training” should and must be focused on helping the submissive connect with their nature, create the pathways to more fully access their own unique form of submission, and then finally build on that to blend it into their daily life. All the tasks and sexual acts, the “yes Sirs” and downward glances of respect, mean nothing and are worthless self-indulgent Dominant games, if the goal of these acts are not designed to deepen a submissives connection to their own beautiful, natural, and authentic submissive self.Submission is a gift. This single phrase bears repeating, because it is so very true and frequently overlooked - Submission is a gift. When fully developed, submission is a powerful and sometimes spiritually beautiful thing to behold. It is never to be taken, coerced, or forced. It is not for role play or pretend, Of course one could act like a submissive as if putting on a costume, but not with me as their Dominant. I hols submission, true submission in the highest regard. And to pretend to be one only cheapens the gift of those who truly feel its calling.As a Dominant, I see my role as helping others in any way I can on their journey, as their guide, nurturer, and mentor.

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.   

I should try fishing as a sport because this site is exactly the same. You are putting out a hook waiting for a good fish to swim by. Unhooked a rotten fish last week (married again) luckily never went on a date with that fish. Stuck to my principles and my gut feeling, creepy man contacted me on his second profile.  Very creepy.  Not just cheating on his wife but on the Mistress and wanted a 3rd pond to play in. Having a me day, new underwear, new shoes and dress, hair done, nails and eyebrows, full body wax (fresh and clean), got my head focused on my priorities (my career). But I must admit while waiting patiently some very pretty fish have been swimming by. Reminds me being patient for someone good is always for the best.

I've recently had the chance to think about TPE more, and I decided that there are ultimately four types, three of which I consider acceptable. In order of intensity, there is first the type, which is simply pushing past where a sub/slave would normall safeword, but not pushing so far that the subconcious is actually forced to acknowledge that they are not in control. This is a stage where a slave is usually begging or angry. The second is the type that I practice currently. Pushing past where people think their limit is, past the second limit where their subconscious gives and realizes that it can only endure, but not going past the last one. The one that makes the mind retreat and can cause trauma. I just brush up against it. The third is when someone deliberately breaks through that last barrier, repeatedly doing so in order to shape the slave into what they desire, using that shaping to subsume other desires and wants, to change who they are at the core level. This is acceptable when a Master has the time, will, and facilities to manage fully breaking a slave, and a slave has agreed beforehand. The last is just the territory of psychopaths, just breaking for the sake of breaking, to do as much damage as possible, and only for their own amusement.

I just read this and feel I am not certain what this Master is saying, "[...] pain can be done on request or as punishment". My initial reaction is that a Master does nothing on request. A Master is willing to hear a request but just because a request is made and heard does not mean it will be fulfilled. Setting a precedent that if a slave makes a request it will happen, transfers power from the Master to the slave. The slave did not choose to be your slave to lead and be in control. Acting as my own devil’s advocate and grammar police, I suppose this Master said, "can" and not "will". Coming back to what I said above, that just because it can or may be done does not mean it will be. I understand that everyone wants something different and truly I wish the Master who spoke those words all the best. I suppose the reason I am choosing to say anything at all is because it provides a juxtaposition to my own expectations for comparison and contrast.   For me, a 24/7 TPE does not establish any promises other than: I will not risk my slave(s) life or limb deliberately or out of ignorance. Meaning, I would carefully consider my options and surround myself in knowledge to avoid it being hurt in such a way that it would lose its life or a limb. Nor would I act on impulse or emotion without forethought and I would in no way make a decision with deliberate malicious intent that would cause the aforementioned outcomes. If a Master allows his emotions to rule him when he is to be the definition of control, then that person still has growth before they should be controlling another, especially 24/7. I am given the right to do with my or slave as I please. Meaning, no, and safe words are not an option. Nor will crying or begging change my mind. This does not mean I would abuse a slave. What it does mean is that any slave who wishes to submit to me has come so far as to know me and trust me that they understand I will push their limits but so that it helps them grow into the slave I want, even ones they label as absolutely not because there is nothing off-limits as the word no does not exist in the slave vocabulary. The only right a slave has is the right to walk away before being collared. Once collared the slave is only let go if the slave is no longer useful. If a slave becomes severely injured so that the slave can no longer perform the tasks it has been doing faithfully, then I would first seek other ways for it to serve me faithfully, to accept its new roles, and to see it proud that it serves me still and was not simply discarded. A slave that I collar, I intend to keep unless I am unable to find a way for it to service me or the slave breaks one of several major rules (of which I will discuss another time).   I have seen slaves on here looking for a new Master because their Master found they were too old for them. I have no problem with a Master who has an age limitation on his slaves but I do have an issue with any Master who took on the responsibility of a slave and chooses to abandon it rather than assist it in finding it a new Master. As for me, so long as my slave(s) have purpose, I will keep them until the last breath in theirs or my body  

I was asked to mentor a friend. I felt honored and delighted. I have been asked to teach technique before, but have never been asked to mentor someone. We had a fairly vague subject matter, but we set a weekly meeting time (with alternating location so as to split the driving burden) and met and discussed various topics over the course of a few months. We only missed two weeks - one due to my family emergency that erupted shortly after she arrived at the house, the other due to a scheduling conflict. Next week is probably our last session and I am dismayed at the prospect of our regular meetings coming to an end. She is a smart, dynamic, powerful dominant and now an even more empowered wicked top. I can't wait to see what she does with all the knowledge I have conveyed. She is every bit my equal, albeit less experienced in these techniques, and I am hoping we'll do some collaborations in the future. I'm proud to know her and even prouder to claim her as my mentee. I don't like the terms student, pupil, or apprentice as none of these are accurate to our relationship. As this chapter closes, my first experience as someone's mentor has been a very positive one. I hope any future dynamics are as rewarding. ~Ms. Elorin

i cant I cant take it any longer i want to behave and make him proud but the walls i have built to hide my emotions to protect myself from being hurt i cant take it i have known him 11 years and i cant take it any longer i am getting mentally exhausted i cant do it any longer im about to crash and burn i know you will be there for me but truth be told the walls are up so i dont get hurt i love you so fucking much and i dont want it to end i know you always say i wont be replaced and that calms me a little but its still in the back of my head i cant take it any longer what can i do i dont want these walls up but i know ill become emotionally wreck i have all these feelings and i know once the walls fall again i will need you more than ever before these emotions i have been hiding will come out are you ready for that?

I’m realizing that my heart is learning faster than my words can keep up. I’ve been exploring what it means for me to want attention, connection, and intentional dynamics in my relationship. I love flirting—not because it’s shallow, but because it makes me feel seen. I love being noticed, chosen, and appreciated. There is something deeply affirming in that for me, and I’m done pretending it’s something to feel guilty about. At the same time, I’m learning that I don’t want to be reduced to a role or a fantasy. I can’t live as an idea. Real life exists—laundry, stress, tired days, responsibilities—and I exist fully inside of that reality. Submission, for me, isn’t about performing constantly. It’s about choosing to show up with softness, trust, and intention even when life is ordinary. I crave the quieter moments most. The way I listen more closely. The way I offer support without being asked. The way I slow down, check in, and make space. The way I surrender control in small, meaningful ways—through care, consistency, and presence. Those moments feel more powerful to me than anything dramatic. They feel real. What I’m struggling with now is how to explain this to my husband in a way that doesn’t sound confusing or contradictory. How do I say that I love attention and playfulness, but that I also need grounding and depth? How do I explain that I don’t want to be put on display, but rather held with intention? That my submission isn’t something I turn on and off—it’s something I live through daily choices, not constant expectation.

 KneelAndCry2