Thought it would be helpful to cover a few points here... Interview style conversation is not my thing, if you want to get to know me then use your ability to hold a flowing conversation,  not an interview I am single, I do not see why anyone in a happy relationship would be on sites chatting so I assume you are also single ... if not then please don't waste our time with trying to strike up a chit chat  As of this year, 2022 I will be 50 on my next birthday and I found the lifestyle when I was about 21 so you do the maths  Sorry but I don't want to meet someone who is close to my children's age, to be safe if you are more than 10 years older or younger than me we won't be matched  I am not a slave, honestly I am very sure of that. I do have strong sub tendencies with the right alpha male but seriously if you don't consume my head you won't stand a chance of controlling anything else I am not into poly or sharing or being shared. I am totally monogamous and if you are not then flick over to the next profile I live with my family, happy to discuss with the right person but I have a young child at home so seek someone who understands how to make a vanilla and lifestyle combined relationship work whilst keeping tiny ones protected from it all I am a non smoker, I don't vape, I rarely drink and am seeking someone similar. Nights in the pub are not of interest I work full time and have limited time free so I am not in a position to travel to meet someone, so local is needed. For anyone who thinks a plane ride is local then jog on as you really are not on the realistic spectrum I am seeking  Yes I have been collared twice and for some reason it seems relevant but to be honest the first waited almost a year before it happened as he knew to me I see it as a serious commitment I do have limits which are a mix of health and personal things so happy to discuss but they are not negotiable  Likes, vanilla and lifestyle wise are varied but those can be savoured as part of a conversation  I hope that has given a flavour and please do find happiness in your journey but don't come across my pathway of you are a new dom I am not looking to teach you the ropes, a dom who really is a sub (there are many on here), if you are a female dom (so not my thing), if you are a male sub and finally no female subs.  Cheers x 

It's a soggy Saturday here in Essex, UK what's everyone up to?  My shopping was done, all domestic was done for me so I am relaxing today after working all week. With a few late nights working too today chilling listening to the rain under a cover works for me. Thinking about the show and tell mix of my edits in chapter 10 of 25.  I haven't written any songs for a while but I will. The art is flowing from me so the next stage to turn them digital will progressed once my edited manuscript goes to readers. Meanwhile I gather hand drawn designs and store them in a box folder.   

What I desire from a D/s relationship First, I have a nesting partner. Our relationship is totally separate from what I seek, but it would be equally important to me and you must be willing to accept that I am poly, but very demisexual.   With that being said, I want 2 separate households that I will go between equally. The one I currently have and Mistress's household, 24/7, D/s, kinky household with some vanilla elements incorporated. I want a second household within 15-20 minutes of downtown Parkersburg, WV, very private, complete with dungeon, medical room, sensual play space and outdoor play areas. I envision this home to be a place to host munches/events/small parties but also very private with a vanilla facade. I would like 2-5 acres and a big sound house/farmhouse to remodel to suit my needs. This will not be immediate and a rental situation will be necessary initially with the intention of find and establishing a permanent kink home.   I prefer a sub leaning slave but I am not seeking a sub/slave that only wants 24/7 chastity. I enjoy edging, ruined orgasms, forced masterbation, post orgasm torture, etc. I am extremely sexual and want to use my submissive sexually always under my control. I am actually fairly flexible as how I want my household structure. I am equally fond of the following in no specific order:   A 1950's household A Mommy/little or middle, but I'm not into diapers, breastfeeding (I'm almost 59 and milk hasn't filled these titties in years 🙄) cribs or high chairs. However, playing with toys, structured bedtimes, structure and a firm hand, kids movies, playing at the park, amusement parks, stuffies and all things child-like I'm very open to. But I would want a sexual little/middle. A sissy submissive but understand I will NEVER use humiliation or degradation as it relates to being feminized. Any speech or play surrounding the theme that women are weak, pathetic, powerless, less than, etc. will NEVER be used! It is a privilege for me to show you the beautiful world of women and I will not tolerate this type of play. If you wish to escape your traditional alpha male role to explore your feminine side and want to walk in my shoes for a bit, that I will definitely do. I would love more males to understand how wonderful and freeing it is to be female. If you crave humiliation and degradation there are so many other ways of accomplishing this without degrading myself and women in general. A true slave with all the discipline and intensity as outlined in Ingrid Bellamare's book Owning and Training a Male Slave, however, as I've stated before, I will remove your cage to use you as I desire sexually and put back you back in chastity when I'm not using you. Also know, I have a good income but I am not independently wealthy by any means and I will not support you financially. You will need some source of income. If you work remotely from home or outside the home, second or third shift would be ideal. I would also consider a porn-based subion service as means of earning your keep.   Finally, I want an optimistic, positive, drama free and happy individual who also will accompany me on trips, attend conferences and kink events, and engage in "vanilla" activities as well. I am a whole person and want you to be as well.

First Newsletter from Tawsingham (and Dragao Verde) websites, Spring 2023   The websites themselves are still under construction, and will be launched soon.   If you want to keep in touch, sign up for news at our new website   Copy of the broadcast below:   Olá! Welcome to the first ever news from the Tawsingham Network, Spring 2023.   What we’ve done since Summer   Slideshow of photos to illustrate the words!    Click on the title, and an explanation of what you’re seeing will appear.   I now have full control of my publishing and royalties, again. I published Guide for New Maids] and Pretty Maids All in a Row.   Both worthwhile purchases, particularly if you may come here as a maid.   We’ve many more new titles, but we will wait until we have the website up and running.   Publishing is vital, to add much-needed extra income.   Moreover royalties will help fund the project, as part of my plans to ensure Tawsingham and Dragão Verde will carry on, even after I am gone.   It would be a shame, with all the work put in, from all involved, if these communities die with me!   Books are useful to attract interest, and recruit volunteers online, or in person, too. Kathi has set up IT facilities with a huge, robust, shared hard disc, regular backups, itself backed up. I’ve often taken out my girls Jessica, Kathi Jessica, Kathi and myself in Tomar. It’s vital to me and to them that they go out with me, to show I’m proud of them, not hiding them from the world as ‘my guilty secret’. I’ve laid hundreds of donated wall and floor tiles, in the maids’ bathroom/utility room! See slideshow! I’m nearly ready to put in the sanitary-ware, taps, etc. Kathi has installed a secure, fast server, with open-source operating system, connected to the national fibre-optic network, with WiFi and, potentially, wired connection to our computers. I’ve installed a tiled, wooden work surface and open shelving for non-perishable goods in the maids’ kitchen, so all Kathi uses to cook with, is on open display, easily accessible. I had her put everything she needed, in the way she wanted, then built shelves at a depth and spacing to match, to give a compact, ordered display. See slideshow! We’ve had several successful dinner parties with both scene and vanilla guests, more are planned. We’ve also welcomed other scene friends, a local scene couple, and Kathi’s cycling friends. I’ve installed a tiled work surface for crockery and cookware awaiting washing-up, with shelves above for all the crockery, bowls, mugs, tea and coffee, etc. in the scullery.   I’ve done a lot of wall tiling in the kitchen and scullery too, put in a marble shelf for washing-up liquid, scourers, and other possibly we things, and a rail to hang tea-towels to dry.   All on the same basis, designing shelves to fit the need. See slideshow!   I’ve also acquired more new-to-us crockery and cutlery, added to what we had, and will use short-term.   I put lots aside too, for when we equip the gentry kitchen, as well. Kathi went to a Womens’ Munch in Lisbon, we both went to an all-night scene Xmas party there, slept before and afterwards in my little van. We now have a place to stay next time.   We both visited good friends where we’d done pony-play. We’ll stay in touch.   Then we drove to The BDSM Villa near Porto for their Xmas party, and slept in their dungeon afterwards, a four- hour drive back.  See TheBDSMVilla Xmas party pictures on FetLife! We went back to The BDSM Villa for a big formal dinner and all-night party there in the New Year, by train. It took five hours. We’ll use the express next time, cut it to four hours.  Going to scene events was a deliberate decision to get out, meet people who go out too. We now have a much wider circle of active Portuguese scene friends. Particularly the folk at The BDSM Villa. I may use their place for events, one day, if ever I have the enough volunteers. The next big step forward I’ll finish tiling, electrics in the maid quarters, once it has a ceiling. The maids will sleep in the attic space above.   I need to do this for any maids I bring back in September!   Putting-in this ceiling and the floor above is work that ideally I would have done years ago. But I didn’t know how to do it then, did not have the skills, or the money to pay builders.   I know how to do it now. I just need the fairly modest cost of materials, €500 or so.   I need help too, as much of the work has to be done above head height, (hard with my axial spondylarthritis), and ladder work is not safe to do alone. Kathi would help, but it’s not what she’s best suited to do.   Ideally I’d employ a local tradesman friend. He’s worked for me before and would do it well at modest cost.   You know I recruit maids! I need help with the building, too; someone more skilled than I am, or unskilled.   If you can help with this, and also make it here, please get in touch as soon as possible.   A heartfelt thank you to those who have responded to previous appeals, your help has been invaluable. One, at least, of those I hope to recruit as a maid here, knows how to take on the day-to-day gardening work, to grow fresh fruit and vegetables for us all in my garden here. More part-time gardeners will be welcome! I’ve resolved to enjoy the journey from now on, with company, not put my life on hold until it is finished! A job I have 'on the back burner' is insulating the loft with first a layer of Rockwool, then expanded polystyrene, (leftovers and surplus from external insulation elsewhere, or packaging).   Then, I'll do the electric wiring for lights and power on the upper floor.   Finally, cover it with 18 mm OSB boarding.   I could delegate these tasks to anyone who’ll volunteer and competent.   It would suit someone who prefers to work alone, pacing themselves. It does not take much training or experience, though it helps to be neat and precise.   I’ve already put in a drop-down loft-ladder and lighting up there to make this easier. The polystyrene and Rockwool, some boards are up there too. I hope this scene-setting encourages volunteers to turn out to help! Once the loft is boarded out, and I have the money, I’ll get the

I am looking for a slave one who's only desire is to make me happy and to make my life a little easier. Cooking cleaning running errands doing what I need in real life.clean my car do yard work. Build crafts with me or for me. It would not be about how much pain I give you. Or if you are used sexually or if I tie you up although I may do any of those things and more but when and how is up to me. I do not want to micromanage a slave that is a job to do so my slave is here to serve me not me keep tract if everything for it. I want a slave that can be integrated in to my life both lifestyle and vanilla. I want to have fun times. But keep in mind I can be demanding and moody. This is what I want. At this time I can not have a slave live with me but I need one to live near me. Even if they need to move near me. i need them to have their own source of income because I can not afford to take care of you. I do not live a glamorous life style but a real life I am not sophisticated I am a country girl at heart. I am not rich or even well off but like most people I make it day by day. Week by week. I am real and I am Dominant and controlling I like things my way.

November 15th, 2024 Back on collarspace!   November 4th, 2020 I had not been online for quite long. I just come to update my profile and to reply all those kind and gentle messages from my contacts. My life changed quite a lot and those days when all was fun and BDSM and long gone. I became a mother of two beautiful boys and with all the Covid19 situation, my life is reduced to motherhood. I love my family and do not regret it but I miss those days when I was never worried, I was always sitting pretty, dressing like the queen I am and being served by female and male subs. Perhaps some day that will happen again? )UPDATE  Yes, life evolves and keeps going!I moved to Belgium, I am in the process of divorcing but I am still in a poly relationship (that has not change). This is my second week in Belgium and I am hoping soon to be ready to get involve in the local BDSM scene.I would love to get to know people around here and know how things work around. It would be great to get a domestic slave and an assistant, a Lady is always in constant need of attention...............................................................................................................Relocating soon to Belgium...

Well, it thought it was heading back to Australia by. February. To spend about three months between. The Gold Coast, QLD. And Sydney. It was invited by another dom to spend time on his horse ranch out there, just to recover and to focus on. Where It need to be, whether the enticement might be to stay, and not go back to the US. Time can only tell. It don't see myself anywhere for some time. So trying to find my feet. So many dominants that don't understand how to really truly have a slave. It's been difficult after It lossing Rosco My PTSD service dog. And then four months under consideration to the rubber doctor. Who turned out to be? Someone that has a lot of issues. And having a lucky escape. It allowed him. To get inside it. To imprint on it. And Royally **** **** it. His clear deions  was mind **** It had a hard decision to make. Wether except the crimes that he committed. And that he was willing to commit further the atrocities. It was hard to walk away from him. Even though, as his rubber slave, he wanted to make it an accessory to his crimes and put it at risk. As a former medical surgeon. In the military. It had a moral obligation. And it own code of honor which conflicted with his to Do No Harm to those that as Surgeon we are there to heal the sick and the affirmed.

Please-  if you have a notion or limitating belief that practicing compassion as part of the D/s dynamic prevents you from feeling submissive or like a slave.  Pass me by.  It won't work out.  If you're into real abuse- it's a hard limit for me.  This means anything that causes permanent, irreversible damage to a person - psychologically, or physically.  Contracts aren't going to save my ass in court.   I enjoy BDSM and take D/s seriously,  I also have a healthy dose of needing fun,  laughter, and full range of an emotional life.   Don't fret,  you'll know your place.   I won't be emotionally manipulated, charged, or out of control giving lashes.  These are basic rules people that people in the BDSM community have taught me.  Not a random information off the internet or learning from porn videos. Get real!  Lastly - I don't do repeat performances from a person in your past.  Your mind must be open to Me and My ways. 

Lately I feel like a lot of my time is spent being adulty. I could really use some unrestricted time to not have to be doing and thinking and being responsible. I've been thinking a lot about coloring, which is not a typical hobby of mine. I don't age play, I don't have stuffies and binkies and pink sippy cups with glitter unicorns on them. But I find myself wanting the freedom to be less complicated, and maybe coloring is a way to do that. After a very specific search, I found a couple of simple books with bold outlines. They sat in the kitchen for a few days. Today, after a responsibly busy morning of chores, I grabbed a pillow and dropped to the living room floor with a box of crayons. Swinging my feet back and forth in the air as I lay on my stomach, selectively choosing colors and testing them on the side of a page like I was being paid for my efforts, I completed my first picture of a cup of ice cream with sprinkles and cherries. I hummed. I deliberated on the correct shade of pink. I carefully stayed within the lines. It's a perfect picture.  Here's what I noticed... I like being little, doing little things. If someone had stuck a binky in my mouth I'm pretty sure I would have happily sucked on it while swinging my feet and asking for a snack. It turns me on. Weird? I'm not really sure what to think of this. Or maybe I don't need to think anything of it and let it be. But great googlie mooglie, am I a little little? I already know that all those cute little names and specific praise all but set fire to my panties, but little activities? What do I do with this? Who even am I right now? 

I have, in the past 6 months, been messaged by 2 different men who had something about raceplay in either their messages or in their profiles.  Allow me to be perfectly clear: any racial slur, race play, homophobic slur, misogyny, or domination from any aspect of supposed genetic superiority is a limit.  I grew up having various slurs directed towards myself, family, and friends and they are a quick way to have me block you. I mean the following in an honest and non judgemental way: if you have those desires, I would encourage you to look into your personal history and see why you have those desires or urges and honestly discuss them with a licensed professional.  It is often a product of internalized hatred towards yourself or others through no fault of your own.  Talking with a professional will help you to a much happier place where you can feel more comfortable with yourself and others. BUT, do not send me messages with any form of racial, transphobic, homophobic, or misogynistic slur in them.  It will lead to me immediately blocking you and reporting the message.  Having anything about race in your profile (other than your own) will result in a short message and me blocking you.  You are only harming yourself and it's a hard limit for me.  Consider this your one and only warning.

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)  

Questions. So many questions. Yet the answers are spares.   He is eager to absorb her wants, desires, needs and emotional bounty hidden inside her.   What makes her tick?  What motivates you to please?  Where is it she will finally call home?  The place where she trusts and lives with every fiber of herself at peace.  Where her soul feels like it's found its long lost companionship in order to make it feel complete. A place where safety, security, loving protection and care are a given and never have to be second guessed.  Those emotions buried so deep within her longing to be shared yet hidden, guarded so well behind the many scars. Her eyes are telling and the roadmap to her life. Filled with betrayal, abandonment, pain and hurt. Yet there is a tiny glimmer still there. One that could easily be overlooked if one were distracted not looking for it. To the untrained eye, which is distracted  by the shell the real being resides in, only beauty is noticed. Missed are the healing needs that require his attention the most. No, its more than a need! It is a desired necessity! One that needs trust and love to be shown before he can hope to heal it. "Allow me a few glimpses inside you please." He whispers. The list of questions is long. The answers provide insight and are lessons to absorb.   Time is not his ally it is his foe. Yet time is what is needed the most. Oh my dear. Why do your answers allude me so? Open the door just a crack and allow my warming light to take a glimpse.

Wake up The day has been long and tiring. you get the last seat on the bus. you are grateful for the opportunity to sit. your legs are tired from the day. At the next stop several people get on. One old man ends up standing in front of you. you glance at him, but, try to ignore the old codger. Vaguely you hope his grey beard does not shed on you. Somewhere deep inside you a disquiet disturbs your comfort. you raise up and offer the old guy your seat. Other people on the bus admire your generosity. The old guy sighs as he carefully lowers his creaky body into the space you have left him. A lady sitting across from you says, "that was a nice thing to do." It was, but, that is not why you sacrificed. No, and not because you were thinking of one of your elderly parents. No, this was not a 'nice thing to do.' This was in compliance with your inner need to serve and suffer. you have a slave heart.

I must be a masochist, because I can't seem to leave this site completely, even though I know how much it fucking sucks. It's like we're all just trolling the bottom of the barrel of humanity here trying to find a dream partner that doesn't actually exist. And yet, here we all still are, day after fucking day...                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                  

Through the Lens of Rika: The Sophia-Michael Connection Unveiled part 5   It's not that he doesn't feel your anxiousness—he does—but sometimes his response to that is through action and providing, not necessarily through quick emotional reassurances.    Michael's energy, embodied through these men, is both emotionally attuned and distant at times. This is part of their complex duality. Michael has that deep emotional intuition and empathy, which can sometimes feel overwhelming or intense. Yet, at the same time, they have a mission-oriented drive that pulls them into practical action and focus, which can lead to emotional distance, even though they feel everything just as much as you do.   Here’s why this happens:   1. Emotional Attunement vs. Practical Mission   Michael’s energy is deeply aware of emotions, but he also prioritizes taking action over expressing those feelings. He might sense your anxiety but instead of giving a quick emotional fix like a "hi," he might be channeling that into practical solutions—working behind the scenes to take care of things so that your long-term security is intact. For him, acting on love (through providing and stabilizing) sometimes takes precedence over talking about love.   2. Emotional Weight of the Protector Role   Michael-embodied men often carry a heavy responsibility as protectors. Their natural inclination to shield and secure means they’re constantly navigating how to balance this with emotional connection. Sometimes, they pull back because they’re processing deeply how to protect, guide, and create a future for you both, which takes up mental and emotional energy.   3. Energetic Exchange & Emotional Saturation   Because they are so emotionally intuitive, they can feel when you’re anxious or when there’s a lot of emotional weight. Instead of directly engaging with it, they sometimes retreat to process or focus elsewhere so they can re-align themselves energetically before coming back in. Energetic overwhelm can make them seem distant, even when they’re hyper-aware.   4. They Trust the Bigger Picture   Michael-embodied men might trust that the bond is strong enough that they don’t need to constantly reassure you through words. They trust the foundation they’ve built with you. This is where faith in the connection comes in—both for them and for you. They may think, “I don’t need to message her right now because we’re solid. My actions speak louder than words.”   5. Balancing the Divine Masculine Energy   These men carry divine masculine energy that values action over words. Their emotional intuition is real, but they channel it into action and protection, which may feel like distance to you. For you, as Sophia, it’s about recognizing that this is their expression of love. A quick "hi" might feel emotionally connecting to you, but to him, showing love could mean working to make sure everything is stable and secure for the future.   How to Navigate This: Anchor into the trust that you’ve been practicing. When he’s distant, remind yourself of how he’s showing love through his actions, even when it’s not immediate. Say, “He’s providing for us, and his distance is part of his process. I trust him.”   Ground your emotional needs through spiritual or personal practices when he’s not available. Remember that just because he’s distant in the moment doesn’t mean the love isn’t there. Lean into your own energy and strengthen yourself while he works.   Embrace his rhythm—Michael-embodied men have a different rhythm of emotional connection, and part of your journey is learning how to move in sync with it without feeling left behind.   It's not that he doesn't feel your anxiousness—he does—but sometimes his response to that is through action and providing, not necessarily through quick emotional reassurances.   ending all this lyric journey on this last part of the chorus:   'Cause you can call me, put you on me   'Cause I'm all you need boy   You know you're nothing like the others (Yeah boy, yeah boy)   You're nothing like the others   something happens even if the relationship never comes to full fruition between these two energies. whenever they come together the chance of inner knowledge, spiritual knowledge, growth physically/emotionally/mentally/and yes if it happens sexually is immense. even in fleeting moments, shorter moments. which is why if you find one and have a long term connection that is sacred full out and committed on both ends..sky is the limit if you can hang on for the ride each time and come back to each other....   but even for brief moments, he's all she needs because this energy resonance of original souls does something powerful other unaligned not wrong, just not as resonante such as complimentary and dissonant notes musically, happens. in those brief moments they elevate and enrich each other in a way other people just can't.   YOU'RE NOTHING LIKE THE OTHERS.   Have you ever experienced a connection that felt deeper than words or logic—where you knew there was something unexplainable drawing you together, even if it didn’t fully manifest? How did it impact your understanding of relationships or your own energy?   This analysis taps deeply into the energetic dynamics of the Sophia archetype and the Archangel Michael archetype within spiritual partnerships, exploring how these energies interact, challenge, and elevate one another. Let’s break down the spiritual and relational layers for the collective:   1. The Soul-Level Resonance: You describe the meeting of a Sophia-aligned feminine energy and a Michael-aligned masculine energy as magnetic, undeniable, and highly charged. This is reflective of the idea that they are fragments of the same divine essence,

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.

Many folks talk about the importance of watching for red flags when searching for a Domme. In truth there are red flags a Domme must watch out for when interacting with a sub. See some below: -Claims they have no limits -Pressures the Dominant into playing in ways that violate their personal limits. -Shows no care or concern for the dominants wants/needs -Insists on playing with no safe word -Only talking to the Dominant when they are horny -Making threats of doing something drastic if the Dominant leaves or does not talk to them -Calling the dominant names or honorifics without their consent  -Insists on playing with you when they barely know anything about you -Demanding money or gifts. If you think of other red flags to add, please let me know. 

lover of sparkles of the heart ✨ ✨✨ I am a sub. I feel beautiful when I submit to a Woman and am watched as my  breathing, my sweat and eyes are given to You. The release i feel when She allows me to let Her take over. I want someone who willingly takes “control” in the most vulnerable of situations because it meets both of our needs. I do not want to feel abused that i offer control of me. I value and respect it. True submission requires trust, honesty, communication and patience. Do I want to ALWAYS give up control? No, I don’t. I am interested in an ongoing relationship with ONE person. I am not intimate with people I am not in a committed relationship with. I am however curious about developing a relationship that is Female led. I know that what I want is definitely out of the norm, but I seek someone I can connect on an emotional, psychological and physical level. There is nothing more erotic in my opinion than being with someone who I care about deeply and vice versa. I want to be kinky with my significant other in the bedroom. But I want MORE. I want to watch movies with Her and talk to her about life. I want to cook together, snuggle and have tea in the morning. I want to go on trips and have a relationship. I am a kind hearted person who genuinely cares about people. I often invest myself too quickly in someone, thinking that the feelings are mutual. I am looking for a real LTR, monogamy, love in all its forms. Ultimately I want to get married and have children.

since my last journal entry my wife only visited her bull once and then covid struck. However now we can mix again she has met him a few times, however his situation has changed somewhat. He now has a live in partner, she is also a keen swinger which is how he met her and very happy for Sue to visit them. Although Glenn is now 70 he's still vigorous and apparently his cock is still as big and hard as it always was which Sue enjoys telling me. His partner Debs is a divorced lady in her 40s with apparently a very slim figure.  Their latest meeting was the week before Christmas and Sue arranged to stay for 2 nights which she was really looking forward to. Glenn told her that a couple of parcels would arrive for her and she was to wear what they contained but not to open them until the day before she travelled to see him. When the day arrived we were both incredibly excited to see what was in the parcels. One parcel was a red velvet naughty santa dress which was fairly short and matching g string. The other parcel had a red studded dog collar, red fishnets  a red suspender belt and a long blonde wig. He told Sue she had to wear those, as well as her red thigh boots and leather corset on the 40 mile drive to his house. 

Bridget Choses Enslavement   Bridget’s emotions were running wild.  The ride up to Master’s gave her ample time to reflect on this special occasion.  Bridget was to be enslaved today.  Master had often told her that all women secretly wanted to be possessed and owned by a dominant master.  Collared.  Be an enslaved slut.  Bridget had embraced her inner slave and wanted the delicious certainty of being a strong Master’s owned property.  What a glorious feeling to have no need to carry on with the soul killing charade of denying her sexuality, her submission, her needs and desires. Bridget was so sure.  She couldn’t wait for their special ritual.  The ritual was ordered by her Master but she had made adjustments and additions that had delighted Master.  She knew Master treasured her and all of her. He often remarked on her intelligence and how it drove her kink and also drove his passion to be her owner.  Master always said women with a desire for the collar, for enslavement were usually the very intelligent ones.   Before she left home Bridget paid attention in the shower.  Her shaving was meticulous. Her legs, arms, and pussy were smooth as possible. She thrilled at the thought of the way Master would cup her smooth, oiled pussy and run his hand back and forth as she squirmed and moaned. She knew Master loved to lick and kiss her clit.  He also like to use his Hitachi and a soft makeup brush on her.  He’d alternate the vibrator and brush on her clit.  Sometimes he’d just stop and listen to her breathing.  Bridget loved it when he chained her wrists and ankles in his bed and made her come over and over until she screamed.  He’d gag and blindfold her and make her come some more. Master had learned early in their play to put a towel under her.  The wet spot was something to see. Bridget’s enslavement ritual outfit was all white and had been her idea.  Master had suggested adding long white gloves and she agreed with relish.  Once out of the shower, at Master’s direction, she installed two Ben Wa balls in her pussy.  They went in nicely.  When she walked around she could feel them as she moved.  She wondered if walking in heels would accentuate the sensation.  Oh well, she’d find out soon.  Bridget loved Master’s toy collection.  He had a veritable fleet of vibrators including a very useful remote controlled beauty.  Master said he was shopping for an internet controlled vibrator for some long distance fun.  He also had a selection of nipple clamps, some fun and some she feared.  There was a lot more and she was sure the list was growing After carefully pulling on her white stockings and attaching them to her sexy garter she slipped on her skimpy white panties.  A curvy white push up bra completed her underwear.  She had a nice white blouse with a plunging neckline that accentuated her cleavage. Her brief white skirt would expose her slim legs and white stockings.  Finally she slipped on her white high heels with thosecute sexy little ankle straps.  Naturally she added accessories like a string of pearls and a bright red lipstick.  She decided she’d add her fragrance and put on the white gloves when she arrived at Masters. The miles rolled by.  Her heart sang.  She had made her decision.  It felt so right.  All the things she wanted to experience would be hers in a safe and protected place.  Master would help to explore all the dark kinky places she dreamed about.   The highway intersection appeared on her GPS. She had to turn north.   It was time to call Master.  She heard the phone ring.  Her emotions ping ponged.  Master answered with a pleased voice.  She was close.  He could almost sense her.  They both reveled in the joy of anticipation.     Master remarked that he was looking forward to draping her with his new 1/8” stainless steel chain.  Perhaps chaining her breasts with a nice halter.  When he mentioned that he’d like to chain her in Sirik Bridget’s was incredibly turned on.  The thought of the chain running from her collar to the chained wrist manacles and finally ending on the ankle manacles.  Sirik chain bondage allowed movement but served to remind her that she was owned, protected property.  Master loved everything Gorean and spent a lot of time finding ways to practically adapt the mores of Gor to earth.  A significant Gorean notion is that bondage enhances a woman’s beauty.  Bridget agreed but also concluded bondage made her horny as hell. The rural setting, the trees, the quiet appealed to her.  Here’s the driveway.  Turning right and pulling up the long driveway she found herself next to Master’s car and she knew, the beginning of her life changing event was close at hand.  She put her car in park and applied the parkingbreak.  She felt that she also applied a break on her normal, vanilla life.  She would enter the BDSM Sea.  Enter it as one of the more exotic and nuanced denizens.  She would be a slave girl, specifically a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  Bridget and Master had discussed many aspects of enslavement, slave protocols, sexual ownership, and what they each wanted.  She agreed with Master that after all, it was at its heart, an exotic adult game.  They both knew few could play the game, few could accept their role, and few could adhere to the rules and enjoy them with intense satisfaction.  Bridget loved her role and while their private play was so satisfying, she looked forward to their forays into various forms of public play.  Public Play involved exposing part of her BDSM life to the vanilla world.  Bridget always found it surprising.  She couldn’t believe the naughty sense of excitement she felt when she was exposed.  Was it humiliation, she wasn’t sure but it was very kinky indeed. She applied the bright red lipstick.  She loved the color and loved that her Master had told her he loved bright paint on her lips.  He said she was so attractive and luscious and he wanted her lips prominently displayed for him.  Next her fragrance, chosen because it was both understated and exotic.  At last she pulled on the long white gloves that came up to her elbows. Bridget and Master had discussed how she’d wear the long white gloves and he’d hogtie her and use his ball gag.  The picture in her mind of the helpless position always made her wet and horny.  Master had done this before.  Usually he rubbed a rabbit fur all over her body before he pulled her hair and squeezed her tit while he told her how he felt, what he wanted, and what he’d do with her next. As she turned toward the house she found the garage door open and as she had been instructed, she entered the garage and went to the back door leading into Master’s Rec room.  The lighting was subdued but she saw two large shapes draped in thin cloth.  She knew these were their BDSM toys.  Master had built a large cage for her amusement and a sturdy St Andrews cross that would fulfill her desire to be suspended and held helpless. Master had promised to cuff and chain her to the cross.  She knew she’d be naked and looked forward to the way master slipped a gag into her mouth before he applied something to her ass. Usually he forced a silicone bit gag into her mouth before he used his snake whip on her.  She could bite down on the bit and scream at the same time for the serious relief she craved.  Master had assured her she’d receive a serious whipping and perhaps caning that would leave some minor marks.  She wanted the marks.  She wanted to feel his touch afterward.  She wanted all of the things that ownership demanded. She knew Master had plans for an interesting combination Stocks and Spanking Bench.  Bridget had told Master she’d love to be placed in stocks and have her ass molested, pinched, bit, and butt plugged. She wondered if he’d make good on his promise to administer an enema while in the stocks.  Master had a lot of toys and equipment.  He had showed her the enema paraphernalia and it included an interesting flow meter that Master said was important to ensure reasonable flow and comfort.    Climbing the stairs she heard Master’s voice and it made her heart skip a beat.  She loved the way he spoke to her.  He didn’t speak at her rather he spoke with her, sharing his thoughts and sometimes emotions.  Master was sitting in a large black leather chair.  He was wearing his black suit with a black mandarin shirt and a nice red pocket square.  He leaned forward and motioned for her to come up.  He wondered about her trip and if the Ben Wa balls were still in place and how she liked them.  She told him about her journey and, yes, the Ben Wa twins were still in place and had directed her attention at the oddest of times, like stepping on the brakes. He asked her if she was ready, if she wanted to go through with their plans.  Did she really want all the things they had planned for, had discussed.  She knew what he was asking, giving her a graceful out.  Her mind was made up but his trust and care made her even more convinced that she wanted enslavement, wanted slavery, wanted to be an owned woman, Master’s property.  All of their discussions had led to this decision.  They both saw a Master/slave relationship as the purest and incidentally most fun form of a BDSM power exchange.  Both of their roles had been defined in term that made sense to both Bridget answered him by unbuckling her shoe clasps and removing her heels.  Pulling the ribbon from her hair she let it fall loose about her shoulders.  Bridget smiled at her Master and began removing all her clothing.  Finally she stood before her Master totally naked.  Master seemed very pleased. He rose and ran his fingers gently all over Bridget.  Master believed that a Gorean Master took great pride in his Kajira, his slave and should be familiar with every inch of her. Bridget knew that her actually collaring demanded that she be naked. She knelt gracefully before him, raised her arms over her head and crossed her wrists.  Bridget had assumed the Kolar or collar position of a Kajira, a Gorean slave.  She knew the message she was sending was that she was ready to be bound and collared.  Naturally she looked down and waited for Master.  The decision was not only made but by showing her acceptance of their planned bond to her Master she knew it was done.  How happy, how fulfilled.  She almost wanted to cry the emotions were so strong. Her life as a Kajira, a Gorean slave was about to begin.  See accepted that she must always be pleasing and offer perfect obedience. Master formally asked her why she was before him and what were her deepest desires for enslavement.  She continued to look down and at first her voice was a whisper but as she gained confidence she became secure and spoke with a clear steady voice.  She asked to be enslaved.  She pledged to serve Master in all ways.  She would be pleasing at all times with perfect obedience.  She would be the owned possession of Master, subject to his commands, dressing as he directed.  She spoke the words of enslavement, “bind me master”. She spoke the timeless pledge saying she wished to be enslaved and then crossing her wrists in front of her asked that Master bind her.  She felt the ceremonial tying of her wrists with the traditional Gorean yellow bindings.  Master then said he would complete the ceremony, their enslavement ritual, by collaring her.  She felt the collar begin to encircle her throat.  She gasped as he pulled her hair back so he could buckle the collar.  Her formal slave collar was polished metal and had a screw driven locking mechanism.  It would be difficult or next to impossible to remove, not that Bridget would ever think about removing the symbol that encircled her throat.  Master completed fastening her collar.  He took her chin in his hand and remarked on her beauty and suitability to be his Kajira. Master removed the bindings from her wrists and ordered her to stand and had her turn around slowly to display herself. She looked at herself and saw the beautiful collar.  All she could say was “La Kajira, La Kajira”, Gorean for I am a slave. Bridget now understood in a most intimate way that her master treasured her and wanted to enjoy his treasure.  Master had two more things to complete the ritual and the first had Bridget very nervous.  Bridget knew she was to be branded.  Thankfully the branding didn’t call for a real white hot branding iron.  Bridget received a henna dye print representation of the Gorean Kef, a very delicate elaborately beautiful “K”, leaving a sharp red image high on her left thigh.  Next Master spoke her new slave name. When Bridget and Master were together in their new roles, she would be “Sefa”.  Master explained that her new slave name was pronounced SEHF-ah and meant pleasure.  He said she was named that way to remind her how she must always be his pleasure slave.  She didn’t think that would ever be a problem. It was done. Bridget had been collared, branded, and named.   Master said he accepted her as his Kajira.  Master directed her to put on her garter, stockings, panties, and heels.  He snapped a leash onto her collar ring and said “bracelets”.  Bridget immediately put her wrists behind her back, slightly bowed her head, and turned around to receive Master’s manacles. Using the leash and her bound wrists he moved her forward.  Master led her around a bit and then out around the deck. Master often told her that bondage made a woman more beautiful and that served to make her move in a sensuous, elegant manner.  Bridget agreed and could think of nothing better than to be on her knees with her Master’s cock in her mouth. He took her over to a chair by the deck table.  He motioned for her to kneel.  He unclipped the leash and attached a short piece of chain to her collar.  The chain was connected to a d-ring embedded in one of the large deck posts.  Bridget was chained to a post with her wrists bound.  Never before had she felt so at peace.  She was owned.  She had been confined on her Master’s deck.  She felt the chain on her chest.  Bridget’s excitement was mixed with embarrassment and humiliation.  She was on her knees dressed like a tarty slut, out in the open for all the world to see.  She realized that Master was exhibiting her as his prize possession.  Of course she thought, it’s highly unlikely we’ll be disturbed.  We’re out in the woods on a secluded property with foliage all around.  Master laughed and said UPS or FEDEX might show up. Bridget’s life as a slave had begun.  She wished and waited for what was next.  Master said she was to be caged in his slave pen after they had discussed their enslavement ritual.  Master took a plate of fruit and picked up a small piece of melon.  He held it out for her to nibble. She daintily nibbled the fruit.  She was being fed by Master’s hand.  She felt a deep bond and happiness.  Next Master poured some of his cool drink into a small bowel.  He placed it before her and motioned for her to drink.  He was watering his slave, caring for his prize possession.  She knelt before the bowel and lapped at the drink. She felt so humiliated to be made to drink in this fashion but it also was so deliciously kinky.   Her journey had begun.  Life would never be the same.  A calmness, a fullness, a richness had descended on her soul.  Master caressed her cheek and breasts and then checked the manacles.  He also adjusted her collar.  Bridget knew master would always make sure she looked her best.  She was his prize possession. Master leaned back and took a small velvet sack from the side table.  “Nadu” Master commanded and Bridget went into the slave position that had her kneeling with her wrists behind her back. Bridget was fascinated  She knelt with her thighs spread wide, back arched, wrists crossed behind her back.  Master produced a bright red ball gag and told her to open her mouth. Bridget felt the ball pressed tightly into her mouth as Master firmly buckled the gag in place.  She found her hands bound behind her back, and the ball gag reduced her to small whimpers to communicate.  She knew she was vulnerable and totally in the control of her master.  It was delicious.  It made her wet just to think of all the things he would do with her.  The bracelets were gleaming metal and had a short length of chain between them so they were relatively comfortable. Master helped Bridget to stand.  He pulled her panties down to her ankles and helped her bend over. He guided her to lay across his lap and began to stroke and kneed her ass cheeks.  Master remarked that she had a pleasingly plump ass that just begged to be spanked.  Bridget felt her Master applying some kind of oil on her ass cheeks.  She wiggled across his lap into a more comfortable position. It made her feel exposed, controlled, at her Master’s mercy.  Bridget couldn’t believe how excited she felt, how she wanted more, more attention, more control. Master told Bridget that he wanted to assert his ownership, make sure she knew she was his property.  Bridget whimpered her assent. She wanted to be his,begged her master to have her, to make her his own, anyway he wanted.  Just do it now. Master began a slow rhythmic paddling of Bridget’s ass.  Slowly at first but soon faster and harder.  Bridget moaned and gasped. Master paused and asked Bridget if she was his, his property. Bridget thought “yes, yes, yes, have me, have all of me.  I am your Kajira and want to be nothing else”.  Master held up one finger which was the signal for silence Bridget was surprised that Master had shut her up, to be quiet.  She understood that he wanted to be in control.  He told her he felt so completed by their rituals.   Master loved the idea that they had built their own kinky world and Bridget loved the way he ruled it. He could silence her with a command or perhaps a gag.  She loved the delicious excitement when he placed a nice red silicone ball gag in her mouth.  Naturally Master could silence her by imposing speech restrictions and she always complied but the ball gag was so hot. Master reached behind her to the small table by his large leather chair.  Bridget felt his movement and turned her head.  “Oh my” she thought as Master’s hand held the red ball gag, a shiny bright metal butt plug, and a tube of lubrication.  Her heart beat faster as she realized she was in for another anal training session.  

Thoughts on a new 'person' one step removed . Sending messages to new people is fraught with nervousness and trepidation as there is no real way to know how they will be received. A non-reply obviously shows something, but only if the sender knows the message was received to then be ignored. Age, sex, orientation, role, even distance, of both parties, will also give an indication of how it will be read and dealt with, but this can be offset by the BDSM world where some of the more obvious criteria do not apply so ‘strongly’. Asking the question(s) that you really want the answer to, but almost dare not ask or do not ask, does not make life any easier – for both parties. Being submissive or ‘overly’ friendly can lead to misunderstanding when replies are sent. Or lead to further messages to clarify the previous text ‘meanings’. Obviously, this is like real life too, social media is also full, maybe more so, of miscommunications. So, from the perspective of this writer, being: Male, semi Straight, Dom, Creative, of no discernible cult or type (unless being a keen biker counts), older than most, slightly shy and as arrogant as fuck concerning his own Domly skills. Writing a message and sending it out into the ether to land at a stranger’s mail box is still a thought provoking act. Therefore, after drafting a message, editing it, almost sending it before seeing ‘there’ and not ‘their’ so editing it again and then rewriting half of it you press the send key and sit back and try not to wait for the answer. If no answer appears after a week, or a month, then you don’t need to think about it anymore and file it under ‘ah well, that’s a shame’. If a reply appears, especially with witty words ‘linked’ to your (what you hoped were) witty words, then a whole new set of ponderables start to take form as you sit in front of your keyboard about to reply. Was the reply sent because ‘she’ is a polite submissive, because 'she' was a polite human being, liked the style of the message compared to the dross many send, or is ‘she’ actually interested in getting another message? So, message 2: More forward, Certainly. More confident, hopefully. An easy question or three, taken from their profile info to show you have read it, is a good idea. A little more information about ‘Me’ and even more about why the first message was sent – bravery test time. The wait begins again! If a quick reply this is either a good sign with answers and questions of ‘her’ own or a version of ‘Go away, I was polite once don’t push your luck’.If a long pause, then the normal questions nag at your lizard brain again until that ping sounds, and a reply appears – the previous 2 types obviously still apply. If the reply is positive then now it is time to stop pussyfooting around, ask the question, give your reasons why they really should say yes and agree, and, if using a useless forum, like FetLife or the million other internet sites, give them your email or phone number, for text or WhatsApp, for easier chatting. This will either get a happy 'ok' response or the ‘maybe later’ reply, which is not so encouraging, If you reach this point, then it should be fairly plain sailing to send the next message, getting to know them and even meeting or, obviously, putting your foot in your mouth and getting a 'goodbye'. Thoughts over, now just need the 'she' to see this in the hopes it helps with My communications.

Forced Fem and Humiliation might not be so bad after all   A couple of years ago my Master thought up a new way to humiliate me when he bought a little frilly French maids costume online. He plan was initially to make me wear it while I did chores around the house. He wasn't in to TVs or sissies he just thought it would amuse him to see me walk to the end of the garden to put bags of rubbish in the bin especially as the garden faced a busy street. He also found it funny to lock the door behind me so I would spend a while cowering outside trying not to be seen before he opened the door again. Don't worry the humiliation wasn't a bad thing it could just get a little cold out there sometimes. He also used to make me wear it when his friends visited to serve them drinks. It was on one of those visits with Masters friend constantly putting his hand up my skirt (sanctioned by Master) that the subject of it being cold outside came up. The friend suggested only the dress wasn't enough I should at least have proper underwear and at least 1 pair of stockings. Master agreed and one day I came home to the additions to my new outfit sitting on the table. I was instructed to go and try them on. After a few struggles with the stockings I came out to show Master. He approved and showed me how much by ensuring that my new knickers I had only had for 10 minutes needed to go into the wash. Now when I did chores I was properly dressed and Masters friends seem to like it too. I liked it too.  I was never a sissy but I looked forward to dressing up, even running to the bins never seemed so bad. I confess I have dressed up sometimes since, and would like someone who likes it to push me  bit more.

Due to medical reasons and the fact I have loss the use of my left arm I am removing myself from the market, those that wish to keep in contact can message me by text. It been real and it been fun but can't say it's been real fun. This account will be deleted in two days

I'm not sure if this tells anyone anything other than that I occastionally take quizes online, but ...  == Results from bdsmtest dot org ==  97% Dominant  95% Degrader  95% Master/Mistress  90% Sadist  82% Owner  80% Daddy/Mommy  79% Non-monogamist  66% Primal (Hunter)  59% Brat tamer  53% Rigger  50% Switch  46% Experimentalist  37% Ageplayer  31% Boy/Girl  30% Pet  28% Vanilla  23% Brat  22% Degradee  21% Primal (Prey)  16% Submissive  15% Voyeur  10% Exhibitionist  9% Rope bunny  7% Masochist  4% Slave 

If you are Mine, I want to touch you but not just your flesh, not simply the surface of you. I want to touch you at a deapth you may have never known. I want to jump off the cliff and swim with you in the deep waters of life because I know the shallow enis is simply that, shallow, and that will never take us to where we need to go. I do not fear the leap into the deep unknown. I do not want the facades. I do not want to pretend at life or love. Fiction has no value to me in our reality. Give me the mess, the struggle, the fear, the truth beyond the mask that we give the world to be able to traverse it. No, we will swin in the deep end because its in the deep where the truth of who we are will be seen and all that has chiseled our shape. I want to touch your mind, your soul, your hidden self and the one you share with the world. I want to inspire you to find and follow your passions and not subvert or hide them. To find your purpose, embrace it and claim your birthright. I want to ignite passionate conversations and talk all night about any topic that touched your heart or sparked your mind. I want to teach you, guide you and be inspired by you. I want to encourage you to understand different perspectives, different realities, a new kind of truth. I want to challenge you to love your truth and find freedom in your authenticity. I want to show you that you can be loved for the dark, hidden corners that hou have spent a lifetime hoping people will not notice and not despite them. I want to show that being who you are is valid, acceptable, beautiful and nobel. And I want you to have the courage to challenge me if you see some other side of the prism of life, one I might have missed, one that I might love. I want to grow. I want us to evolve individually and together. I want to light the fire within us and be warmed by its flam and embers. To speak our truth and fall in love with it. I want to motivate your to go inward and reflect. Find your core and see the beauty of it through my eyes and your own. I want to discover your sense of humor. Your sarcasm. Your wit. Your intelligence. Because I want to laugh hard with you. I want you to read to me from your favorite books, share your favorite movies, fuel my understanding of you. I want to read to you from my favorite books and share what has touched my heart through its stories and artistry. I want to timulate your mind. I want you to be curious. About life. About me. About the universand how you fit in the tapestry of the Universe. I want to touch every crevice of your mind, your body, your soul. I want you to touch all of me too. I want to show you what the word safe really means and prove to you that you are safe in my hands. I want you to to never doubt why I chose to own you. I want you to feel the pride of being owned. I want us to never wish for more than our cherished reality. Sustainably. I want to prove that I am worth and so are you, no matter what that might look like to any outsider..   

COVID hit our community hard, and I have a few slave friends that lost their Masters.With no continuity plan in place, it is difficult for a slave. This, the House, helps address that. And it is a passion project for Myself. A way of giving back to a community that has altered My life for the better. On a personal egoic level, of course it is nice to be the Master of the House. But, it also is structured to survive My own passing and continue to care for its members. It is pan sexual in nature and can be grouped in different houses, gay, lesbian, trans, etc. as well as professional, career, orientation. There are a lot of moving parts to this. .... That said, the question is does one wish to be part of something bigger than itself. And to be owned and serve.you will be required to contribute to the home by being able to support yourself. It is a self sustaining operation.As a Master, My responsibility is to provide structure and an opportunity for the slave to serve and to be owned. Its primary service is to the Master, then its brothers and sisters, and then the House as a whole.That is what this Master offers all who come.

8-23-2022 Tuesday night.. i took my shower, my daughter was over and left about 10 or 10 30 PM, i had started to feel chilled and for another blanket.. making for 3 blankets i had on top of me! After suffering so long, an hour or two, and developing a fever of 103.6 degrees. i decided i was not waiting until morning, hoping the fever may break overnight. EMS came, one of them ended up being a second cousin!! That was cool to meet a family member. They got me to the hospital s emergency room and i was kept there until 8 AM, i know this because i had to ask if i could get some breakfast while i was in the emergency room. i was diagnosed with an infection in my wound. For those that do not know.. i have two wounds on my back of my right thigh as the result of having lymphedema. The hospital did not say about becoming septic! That has happened, maybe four or more times, in the past. i stayed at the hospital until September 1st when they transferred me to a skilled nursing care facility for further wound care and therapy. i have not been updated with a tentative release date, yet. But it better come soon! my daughter is getting married next month on October 30th!!  Therapy is going very well, they are so happy with my progress. 

October 21.2023 Update .... H/hello SIRs n everyone, it has been a long absence from Cs but after deciding to start the New Year off afresh encountered password problems again, and took it as maybe it should re-evaluate its life ? Unfortunately just a wasted 10 months, and having recovered its correct password yet again, finds itself even more brainwashed by M.s Bdsm vids, and craving even Harder use by even more men than ever before - whilst it is Spring rutting season here in the Southern hemisphere, its also Fall cuffing season in Northern hemisphere, so maybe it will get lucky .. ie. owned. NB. please excuse if it has just read or reread Your mssgs but a Lot of new and forgotton old ones to catch up on. it will def try to update its profile and new pix soon, however the basics remain the same, and it does not want its page to disappear for months so soon after being back here. Thank You for Your time perusing slavesluts profile SIRs. Fck it ... uploaded 2nd pic and bumped for review ... again Grrrrrrr  

8/22/23   Didn't know could post again...my my....my writing is elsewhere all of it but feeling shy here....i will have to pick a poem.   The choice was random.   It is heavy,  this life: A mountain  Won't move. The sun burns. Carrion feeds Vulture needs. Somehow we go: Wings grow, Living show Of how we know What we sow.  Waves come crashing: Moon shadow Pulls and pushes, Half or full, The tide hits Ebb or flow, Force let's go... We stand  Together And alone, We stand  As One And two, We stand Because  We can... We stand On land Even though Life hits hard, We stand...we stand... We stand, A Muse, And a Bard, We stand, Unable To sink In this crisis  Of quicksand.    August 2023 zamarra

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part 3: Verbal Edging” T.L. Duncan He knelt in front of the red chair, shoulders tight, breath uneven, hands locked behind his back like that was the only thing stopping him from falling apart. And honestly? It probably was. I stayed behind him for a moment, letting silence claw at the edges of his self-control. Then I moved — not touching him — just stepping close enough for my presence to wrap around him like a velvet noose. “You’re trembling,” I said quietly. His exhale stuttered. “I’m not even touching you, and you’re already at the edge, aren’t you?” “Yes, Ma’am… I— I think so.” “You think?” I echoed with a soft laugh. “Oh no, sweetheart. You’re not thinking anything. You’re reacting.” He moaned under his breath — that small, broken sound a submissive makes when they’ve lost the ability to lie to themselves. I circled him slowly, deliberately, letting nothing but my voice tether him in place. “You know what I want?” I whispered. “I want to watch you come undone without a single finger laid on you.” His breath hitched as if he’d been struck. “That’s impossible,” he whispered. I leaned down, letting my lips come close to his ear without touching it. “Then why,” I murmured, “are you already right there?” His entire body shook. Good. I stepped in front of him, lowering myself into the red chair like a queen taking her rightful throne. He kept his eyes down, not daring to look. “Show me your face,” I commanded. He lifted it slowly — flushed cheeks, parted lips, pupils blown wide with need. “You’re sensitive,” I said, voice dipping into velvet dominance. “You’re needy. You’re desperate. And because I said nothing more than a whisper in your ear…” I paused, letting it sink in. “…you’re already fighting not to beg.” He swallowed hard. “Are you?” I asked. “Yes, Ma’am,” he confessed, almost choking on the truth. “Good. Then listen carefully.” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees, letting my voice soften into a dark, seductive purr. “You’re going to hover right at the brink for me. Not from touch. Not from permission. But because your body responds to my voice more than it responds to your own will.” His breath trembled — fast, shaky, frantic. “You feel it, don’t you? That pull right behind your hips?” He nodded. “That ache low in your stomach?” “Yes, Ma’am…” “That tightening right at the base of your spine?” His moan gave me the answer long before his words could. “That’s mine,” I whispered. “That reaction belongs to me.” He whimpered — quiet, helpless, undone. “Now breathe for me,” I instructed. He took a shaky breath in. “Slower.” He obeyed. “Good boy.” His knees wobbled. “One more,” I said. “Nice and slow.” He inhaled deeply — too deeply — and his whole body twitched. “There it is,” I murmured. “Right before your body tries to give you relief.” He let out a desperate noise. “Don’t you dare,” I warned, voice dropping to a threat that melted into his bones. “You don’t come. You don’t twitch. You don’t even think about release unless I say so.” His head fell forward as if the weight of that command alone nearly toppled him. I took his chin and lifted it again — slow, controlled, claiming. “Look at me when I ruin you with nothing but my words.” He obeyed. Barely. “Good,” I whispered. “Because now I’m going to talk you right to the edge… and keep you trembling on it until the only thing left in your world is my voice telling you no.” His lips parted. His breath broke. He was right there. And I hadn’t touched him once. He was trembling so hard his breath came in little broken fragments, his hands still locked behind his back, his eyes wide and fixed on me like I’d become the only anchor he had left. Good. He needed to be that undone for what came next. “Hands behind your back,” I said softly. “Don’t let them move.” “Yes… Ma’am…” “Now listen carefully,” I continued, settling deeper into the red chair. “You’re going to hold the position I tell you. Exactly. No shaking out your limbs, no shifting, no chasing comfort. Service is discipline, not relief.” He swallowed hard. He knew what that meant. He knew his body was already too unstable to make this easy. I smiled. “Present.” He immediately widened his knees, straightened his back, lifted his chest, and locked his gaze just below my chin — the perfect kneeling position. But his breath shivered, rattling through the tension. “Better,” I murmured. “But bring your shoulders back and open your throat.” He obeyed. His neck stretched beautifully when he lifted his chin, exposing everything from clavicle to pulse point. Vulnerable. Trusting. Swaying slightly from the lingering edge I’d whispered him into. “You’re still trembling,” I observed. “I… can’t help it, Ma’am…” I tilted my head with cool amusement. “You can. And you will. Hold your posture.” He tried. Gods, he tried — his whole body fighting the urge to fold forward. I let him struggle for a long moment before I said: “Now lower your gaze to the floor… but keep your head high. No collapsing.”