He held up a bottle of bright red nail polish and placed it in front of me. “Your hands give you away,” he said. “If you’re going to commit to this, commit all the way.” I uncapped the bottle, my hands shaking slightly. One careful brushstroke became another. A few mistakes forced me to start over, but gradually each fingernail gleamed with a glossy crimson finish. “Now your toes,” he instructed. I hesitated, then nodded. When I finished, i sat quietly, waiting for the polish to dry. I glanced in the mirror, saw myself in lingerie, make-up, wig and red nails. “How does it feel?” he asked. I turned ny hands over, studying them from every angle. Such a small change, yet somehow it felt surprisingly significant. Every glance reminded me that I crossed another line. He smiled. “Good. You’re beginning to notice the details. Sometimes the smallest changes are the hardest to ignore—and the hardest to forget.”

The Lesson in the Red Chair (part one) T.L. Duncan He showed up trembling. Not from fear—at least, not the kind he admitted—but from the anticipation he’d been drowning in for weeks. Every message he sent dripped with eagerness, with that hungry little please he tried to hide behind politeness. I opened the door before he had a chance to knock twice. “Inside,” I told him. He obeyed instantly, the good ones always do. My living room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the salt lamp and the single, deliberate spotlight shining down on the red leather chair in the center of the room. That chair wasn’t decorative. That chair was ritual. “Shoes off.” He complied. “Phone on the table.” Another instant reaction. Good. His training hadn’t even begun and he already understood offering control. I circled him slowly, letting silence do the work. The air between us tightened when I brushed a strand of hair behind his ear—not to comfort him, but to claim space. His breath hitched, and that was when I knew: he’d fall beautifully. I stopped in front of him. “You said you wanted structure,” I said. “Discipline. To feel owned for one hour.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, Ma’am.” “Look at me.” He obeyed again, the word Ma’am still warm in the air. I placed a finger under his chin. “Then you’ll start by kneeling.” He sank to the floor so fast I almost laughed. Not cruelly—just with the quiet satisfaction of someone who has seen this dance a thousand times and still enjoys every second. “Knees apart. Hands behind your back. Shoulders straight.” He adjusted three times before he got it right. Nervous boys forget how their bodies work when they’re desperate. I walked behind him, lifted his hair, and inspected the vulnerable line of his neck. “So sensitive,” I murmured. “If I pressed my thumb here, you’d melt.” He swallowed hard. I didn’t touch him yet. Not physically. Instead, I moved to the red chair, sat down, and crossed my legs with deliberate slowness. “Crawl.” He hesitated, only for a breath. Then he placed his palms on the floor and moved toward me like he’d been waiting his whole life to be commanded that way. His breath shook with every inch he traveled. When he reached the foot of the chair, he stopped and waited. “Good,” I said, letting the approval slide over him like warm oil. “Now put your head on my knee.” He rested his cheek against my thigh as if it were a pillow he’d spent years searching for. His exhale was a confession. I stroked his hair once—reward, not affection. “You crave rules because the world expaspects you to be strong,” I said softly. “But here, strength is mine. Obedience is yours.” “Yes, Ma’am…” “And you take direction beautifully. That’s why I chose you for tonight.” His whole body trembled. I slipped my fingers into his hair and pulled his head back—not harsh, not gentle, but precise. His lips parted, surprise and need blending into something addictive. “There are three things you’re going to learn,” I told him. “One: listen when I speak. Two: obey the first time. Three…” I leaned in, my breath barely brushing his ear. “Never make me repeat myself unless you want consequences.” A shiver shot through him so sharp it might as well have been an orgasm. I smiled. “Now,” I said, loosening my hand but not releasing him. “Your lesson begins.” His head was still in my lap when I slid my hand from his hair to the back of his neck. He froze. Not from fear—no, he was far past that—but from the realization that he had no idea what would happen next. Good. Uncertainty is the first tool of sensory play. “Hands flat on your thighs,” I instructed. His palms landed instantly, but I tapped one with a single finger. “Softer. You’re not bracing for impact. You’re waiting for permission.” He corrected himself. Obedient. Attentive. Hungry. I reached to the side table, slowly enough that he heard my bracelets shift but not fast enough to interpret the sound. His breathing changed—shorter, quicker—as his imagination sprinted ahead of me. Let it. The first thing I picked up was the silk scarf. Not to blindfold him. Not yet. I simply let the fabric glide across his forearm. He inhaled sharply. “Too sensitive?” I teased. “No, Ma’am. Just… unexpected.” “Good. That’s the point.” I drew the silk back, then traced the same path with my fingertip—cooler, firmer, more precise. His skin twitched under the contrast. “Tell me what you feel,” I said. “Soft… then colder. Like my body’s trying to guess you before you touch me.” “Your body doesn’t get to guess. It gets to react.” He shivered, a subtle ripple that traveled from shoulder to knee. I reached again—this time to the small wooden wand, smooth on one end, textured on the other. I let him hear it roll across my palm. His breath caught; he recognized the sound but couldn’t place it. Perfect. I touched his wrist with the cool, rounded end. He sucked in a breath. Then I flipped it and dragged the textured side down the same line. He gasped—quiet, but the kind of sound a man makes when his brain can’t decide between pleasure and restraint. “Overwhelming?” I asked, lifting his chin with the wand. “Yes, Ma’am…” “Too much?” “No, Ma’am. More.” “Then you’ll stay still for it.” He nodded, and I rewarded him by letting the wand trail up his inner arm—slow, deliberate, circling closer to the bend of his elbow. He swallowed. He always swallowed when he was fighting the urge to

So I've been getting a lot more hate messages from MAGATs of late.  I'm thinking it may be because the midterms are quickly approaching and they know new days will be dawning.  Some say this is not the place to express my political views.  I'd respond that my views are more about not wanting to attract tRumpanzees with no moral compass than being political.  But I'm often blocked after they show their asses which is ok.  I have no interest in convincing them they're ignorant pieces of shit if they still think he's a good president who is doing great things for this wonderful country. It boggles my mind to think there are still people who are supportive of him after its clear he needs to  be in prison or a nursing home. And that they're eager to defend him and vocalize their ignorance.  I'd be glad to have civil and intelligent discourses with them but they don't seem to be able to do that.  So AGAIN I will say PLEASE keep on strolling if you don't like what I have to say. That's the purpose of my rants.  Thank you for your attention to this matter. lol  

Right now I have a bruise on my thigh.  I am not even sure how it happened… I think I was in a rush doing something and walked into a low table or counter or something.  I vaguely remember cussing in my head as I caught my leg on something one day, but I can’t for the life of me remember what or where.  I was looking at the bruise last night amused.  I don’t mark easily, and I don’t mark often.  It actually takes a lot to leave a mark on me, which is part of what amused me about this bruise on my leg last night.  How do I not remember how it happened?  It also made me think back to when I did look at porn, and some of the pictures I have seen on this site on peoples profiles that are simply unavoidable… The horrendous marks on people… That will never be me.  My mind left my bruise and headed more into this life, and my desperate desire for something I really don’t want at all… The absolute quandary of the actual ache in my back side for correction, and my complete and total hate for pain.  Like, I don’t secretly like pain.  I don’t like it a little.  I don’t like it in a house, I don’t like It with a mouse.  I, ladies and gentlemen, do not like pain.  Yet I fantasize about it… So, I pondered this, trying to reconcile this stupidity in my brain… Why? Why do I want it so bad it feels like a need as real as air some days?  I think the pain is simply a by-product of the rest of what I want(need).  Without it, the rest of it doesn’t work.  What do I mean by this?  Well, as anyone who has chatted with me or anyone who knows me, knows, I have a rather strong and dominate personality by nature.  My submission is totally a choice I make because it is relaxing to me.  My submission is a gift to someone special, and only to that person.  When I used to be active in public forums and known as a sub there many dominate men often believed that meant I should act submissive all the time to all dominate people there… bwahahaha!  I had come with a date I was being submissive to, not the whole crowd!   I annoyed a few people.  That’s okay, they annoyed me too.  When I give this gift of submission to someone, it is because they are giving me a gift too.  They honor me by taking care of me, keeping me safe, looking out for my best interest.  My submission to them tells them I trust them to keep this true.  If they intend to bring me my much-hated pain, then I know their intention is to better me as a person, and for this I am grateful.  So there it is, it is about the mind, not the pain.  It goes beyond this simple statement though.  The entire process, start to finish, is about what goes on in the mind.  From the game of how far can I push things, to the change in tone, body language, and eye contact from my man as he goes from my man to my Dom when I am skating the edge with my behaviors.  The unspoken communication that tells me we have that connection.  That shoots thrill through me.  Then, the mental push within me, to I stop, or push it further?  If I push, the soft to stern spoken warnings, and finally, when the last straw is broken, the declaration of punishment to come… Then the absolute torture and agony of waiting for the punishment, preparing to be punished, all up in my head.  The mental ects of it all.  That is what I crave so badly… The moment any legit pain begins, it all ends for me.  I swear, whatever I did, I am sorry, and it won’t happen again any time soon, because I seriously can’t handle the pain!  This girl is not a pain slut by any stretch of the imagination!  If you have legit fallen in love with me and you aren’t a deep sadist, my reaction to sever pain may hurt you more than it does me.  But not likely. And even after deep contemplation of all of this… I sit here aching for it all… still.  smh

7/31/2024 6:49:25 PM   A very warm and grateful send out to those who have contacted Me to share of their own story and their strength and well wishing.  This was quite unexpected and I appreciate the consideration shown and stories shared.  My very best to you and yours and thank you for the kindness, it means much and has indeed given Me some strength in carrying on.  xox

My car died.  It died the same day I closed on my new house/dungeon pair.  The cobblestones of my new town ate the last reserves that the power steering pump had.  I got back to the rental, 50 miles East with a ride from a friend.  I sat there for 2 weeks, trying to put together enough crap to move in.  Borrowed a truck from a friend in the local-to-my-rental, got one load made with the washer/dryer stack, got them into the new place, not installed. got back, didn't get another load for another week, on borrowed trailer, called my soon-so-be-exlandlady, who pulled the trailer, got me over with half my stuff. two weeks later, we got a 3rd load, so I am mostly moved in.   I then started in on settling down, straightening up the debris.  The dungeon will need lots of work, plenty of cash, which I have none of.  Stay tuned!

What I want...(I did not write this but it rings true for me).  I want flowers. I want to whip you. I want to stroke your cheek and smile into your eyes. I want respect and awe and understanding and love. I want foot rubs and leg rubs and back rubs and anywhere rubs. I want you to know when to reach out to touch and when to kneel and wait. I want you to want me fiercely, desire me utterly. I want kisses. Little ones, fast ones, fierce ones, thigh-clenching-good kisses. I want you to touch me like you’re trying to memorize the texture and shape of me. I want affection and cuddling. I want you to drop your eyes when I demand and meet my eyes when we talk. I want you to miss me terribly when we’re apart. I want you to know what you mean to me, how I cherish you. I want humor and debate and dialog. I want you to kiss the side of my neck while your hands grip my hips, my back. I want to see you crawl – just for me. I want to look at you in that special way and see you breathe deeply with desire and anticipation of what you know is to come. I want to fuck you, penetrate you, tease you, deny you, please you, torture you. I want.... You.                                                                                              

Prospective slave's Friend Requests In My search for a total slave, I have had several make a "Friend" request of Me. I tire of explaining to each and every prospective pieces of chattel that I am not looking for a 'friend.' Indeed a slave of mine would never be a friend, buddy, lover or social equal of any kind. To illustrate, I explain that if I walked into a public Men's room and surveyed the line up of porcelain urinals I would not be looking for a 'friend.' Nor would I expect to treat any of the appliances like a lover. In fact if the prospective slave were kneeling with its mouth open in the line up of other urinals, I may choose to ignore it for any of a number of utilitarian reasons, like maybe its face was particularly filthy with urine, ejaculate or even human waste and covered with flys. And, speaking of human urinals, I do like to hear effusive gratitude for the slave's opportunity to be of service to a Better, but, a sign above it, if speech were impaired by say a spider gag, would work as well. Master James

I am testing this out as in the past change came with risk. We are still a mature couple, I am 72, she is 73. We have been Vaxed, still caught covid despite that and every thing else. We tested negative Sunday 9/3/22, second time since 8/22/22. Still being care full. We are looking for the following; male/female slave couple, female slave, male/houseboy/slave, trans, prefer m2f slave,. Prinary interest Family dynamic with select age in the middle range. Secondary interest, just about everything else with few limits. We have another profile here to more pictures there, profile not updated. TheHouseofDaniel. Just keeping it all honest.

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

It seems no one can help me now I'm in too deep There's no way out This time I have really led myself astray Runaway train never going back Wrong way on a one way track Seems like I should be getting somewhere Somehow I'm neither here nor there

Mounting a STR8 male Pilars of society, husbands, fathers, movers and shakers. in all body types and backgrounds. You've got to love them all; at least I do. I'm partial to the bravado, the in your face attitude that screams "I'm terrified of venturing outside of my gender, but with the right MAN I'm game." The one thing to remember is to be subtle, these boys are a scary bunch and the slightest threat to their perceived orientation will make them clam up (pun intended) tight and you will loose your boy. However, once you're in their trust that is your chance to explore and they will provide the info you need. Family, marriage, parental relationships  and home issues. Overwhelmed, over worked, and under sexed; perfect combination and there is you, a strong paternal figure to hug them and tell them you understand  and suffer with his plight.  There is a moment of vulnerability in which you become his whole world as he contemplates all crumbling you are the sturdy support.  Sometimes it takes time to get there. Of course this does not apply to your male bride, the one you want for you only.  Check my journal on male brides.  Eventually it will graduate to touching, hugging, kissing and then cock play.  Once you become the adult in his eyes he will nurse from your rod and do it often because is “us boys.” But once he kneels to suck you his body is yours to explore and his butt is there as he is busy following your instructions on how to please you. Easy does it, touch, probe by do not put you finger in yet. Let him get use to your touch and caress.  Eventually his ass will arch up and that is your cue  to begin your entry. Ever so slowly and tenderly. Let  his  body guide you and then move your body to a position of dominance, standing and him in all fours. Pick him up, embrace him and assure him your understanding and his need for release.  Play with his cock , remember he is str8 and feels entitled. Yet as you play in front prepare the rear by probing his prostate. He’ll go through the roof realizing he never felt this with his wife, there is pleasure in his ass and you, his pal, just opened a new window for him to look out of. He is now yours and he will come back, promise. 

Keeping in mind that as soon as I saw that he had written before, I rolled my eyes and made a choice to respond, knowing how this was gonna go, and since I'm in a mood, it was slightly amusing and I almost chuckled when he did exactly what I expected him to do. Which I'm sure would have pissed him off worse... I received this today from someone listed as a Dom, who had contacted me well over a year ago, then again last December. Just 4 months ago, but he's once again completely forgotten that he wrote me before, that he was asked to do something then disappeared, forgot that he had written the second time and was REMINDED, and asked if he had done it yet, but wanted me to commit to being interested (in someone who had ghosted once already and hadn't done anything he was asked to do, which was to read and EDUCATE HIMSELF, not do anything that benefited ME, but instead forgot even speaking to me) and now he's written me again. With the same message as the first two times. 3/6/22 6:48 AM "Good morning, Miss, Hope you are doing well I am wondering if per chance you could possibly be open to a 64 going on 34 year old sub and iring slave located in North Aurora, west of chicago who is intelligent openminded kinky adventurous fun and selfassured about who and what he is? Most of all one who seeks a true Owner and Domme who is a totally devoted to you like me? It is so hard to find a genuine and suitable Domme and Owner in this lifestyle I hope you find me to be exceptional seems like we want the very same thingfor You to take total control of memind body and soul And what you depict your profile is quite interesting and just what I know I need Although my profile says I am a Dom, I have come to realize I am a stone sub I have the ability desire and wherewithal to host and come visit and ultimately relocate should it come to that I travel your way quite a bit on business But most of all I would love to just have the honor and privilege to get to know you you seem so genuine Hope to hear from you"   This is what I wrote him just now. I think it was pretty mild, all things considered. "angeldmort on 3/6/22 at 7:20 AM: Considering that we had a conversation not 4 months ago and you've already forgotten that, I guess not And you obviously didn't read my profile THIS time, either So youve spammed me twice, I let you off the hook last time and had a conversation anyway, and now you are back having done the same exact thing, so you learned jack shit last time and are telling me either how forgettable I am, or how incredibly forgetful and lazy you are Either way, buhbye" and his entirely predictable reply - "sorry Had I known you were such a cross, unpleasant, downer, negative and selfcentered personI would not have contacted you in the first placenot at all the type of Domme or person I want in my life Who wants to take the time to read all the gibberish anyway Thanks and buhbye to you, too"   Now, this is not at ALL even remotely uncommon. This is the Standard Operating Procedure for guys contacting women via the internet for the purpose of getting the attention they want. They bury us in compliments, make grand sweeping statements about their desire for a relationship, and when they don't get it, usually because of their own screwups, they immediately do a 180 and get verbally abusive. (Or if in person, physically abusive/violent/deadly.) And in this case, since it's a BDSM centered site, he stated he wanted a Domme "to take total control of me mind body and soul." But apparently that did not extend to actually asking him to DO anything. Even if it makes him better able to get what he wants.   When I asked him back in December if he had read any of the books I recommended to him, based on his complete lack of submissive experience and his stated desire to get some, he replied "Quite honestlyI have not But if You feel You are truly interested in me, I will gladly do so as I know that would make me better prepared to be the best I can be for you should it come to that And that would be my entire focus"   Do you see the problem? A total stranger on the internet. We have exchanged a few emails. That's it. I have to profess my TRUE interest in him, without knowing him beyond what his shown so far in this extremely limited way. After he has already failed to do the most basic of things - - actually READ my profile, which has a couple things in it specifically to let me know if someone read it, right at the very tip top where it's easy to see - written a profile that actually reflects who is is, instead of one that he thinks will get him laid as a Dom - write an actual email to me instead of sending me the copy/pasted message he sends every Domme - write a message to me that doesn't lie about having read my profile and "seems like we want the very same thing" - stick around in a conversation HE had initiated - done the only thing I actually asked of him, which was to read a book I thought would help him with his search - be honest about not wanting to do this, like a fucking adult, instead of ghosting like a little bitch - keep track of who he contacts so he doesn't insult my intelligence with another copy/paste message that just tells me I'm not interesting enough for him to remember Yeah. I'm gonna be SO interested. In blocking him from contacting me again. But he feels I should give that, before he has to give ANYTHING. He should get payment up front, before he begins the work of becoming someone in who a Domme COULD be interested in. Because ... He wants it? And being female, I should want to hand it to him on a silver platter.   And the second that is pointed out to him - the first time I explain that no, he has screwed up, and screwed HIMSELF over with his own actions, and lack of actions, and lack of basic effort on his own behalf, more than once? I am "a cross, unpleasant, downer, negative and selfcentered person." Because that's how a "submissive" responds to correction from a Dominant Woman? Or it seems to be, based on how this goes, over and over and over. No recognition of personal responsibility for his mistakes, no apology for ghosting, no appreciation of being given a reply despite the obvious lack of effort, no self-awareness at all that might lead to him fixing his mistakes, changing his course, and possibly finding what he claims to want. Just the immediate knee-jerk flip to insults and abuse. But hey, at least he didn't call me old, fat and ugly. That's the usual guy response to getting rejected.   And again, this is standard stuff. This is the main kind of interaction women have on dating sites. This is the main kind of interaction Dommes have on BDSM sites. It may as well be the same exact person writing me these, over and over. As the song says - "Only the names will change." This is not submission. This is self-entitlement. This is toxic masculinity. This is a fragile male ego. And THIS is what is standing between you and the Domme you want to kneel to. THIS is what we see and expect when you write us before reading our profile, when you send us a generic email that could have been sent to someone else, when you don't fill out your profile, when you want us to be "interested" before having an actual conversation and letting us get to know you. I know it sees like work, but honestly, without it, you are asking for a handout, and we know that hand will probably turn into

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

  slave rules slave must only use the 3rd person to refer to itself slave must confess that is is just an or garbage slave must always be honest slave may not have dignity or respect of any kind slave must show total respect for Master or any humans slave may not speak without permission slave make not look at its Master without permission or look at other humans slave is always wrong if its Master or another human tells it so slave may not use a human name slave must always accept punishment, abuse, or a beating if it pleases its Owner Master slave may only live if it pleases her Owner Master slave must never close its legs, they always must be apart its holes must be available to its Master any time or any place  it must use every part of its body to please Master  slave must always be nude when it pleases its Masters   slave must be chained or tie up any time it pleases Master  slave must dress any way its Master orders it to dress  slave may never talk back or say "NO" to her Master  slave must always speak in a low sweet voice  slave may never own anything   slave may never use big words or else it must be punished  slave Master has complete control of how it moves: walk, crawl, speak, breaths, kneel, etc  slave must worship its Master’s cock and all of his body  slaves Master pleasure matters, its pleaser means nothing  slave must never edge its self without permission or take any sexual pleasure without permission slave dignity or feelings are worthless slave must not sit or use human furniture unless it is given permission  slave must ask to enter or leave a room slave must ask to poo or pee  slave must whip, cane, or abuse its body when ordered to  slave must drink piss, cum, spit when it is ordered to  slave may not remove spit, cum, or piss from its body unless it is ordered to  slave must not sleep unless order to  slave must use degrading names when it refers to its self, for example: piss pot, cunt, inferior human, cum bucket, ugly, pig, whore, sick o, tits, ass hole, cunt hole, slave, fuck toy,   slave may never speak to another human without permission slave must thank Master for using it, for allowing it to cum slave must clean off Master's great cock after he is done using it slave must perform any sexual act that it is ordered to do, no matter how degrading, painful or humiliating slave must write down every single thought is has for its Owner Master's review slave must sleep on the floor, or in its cage, cell when it is not serving its Master slave must eat on the floor and its food must be cold with little taste unless it is given permission to eat people's food. its hands must always be behind its back slave must now beg for anything it needs, food, water, etc, it must beg to be punished, abuse, beaten also     ***slave may be punished or abuse or beaten because it deserves it because it is inferior, stupid, weak, and worthless cunt   ***slave must repeat its rules over and over every day

¿Es necesario el amor en una relación BDSM?Respuesta rápida: depende. Como siempre dar like, compartir, comentar, seguir https://amaasht.art.blog/2023/03/19/de-amor-y-bdsm-nunca-nuevo-siempre-actual/

Starting the New Year Off Right! We had a lovely, laid back New Year's Eve. I was all ready to snuggle in and fall asleep on Master's chest. He had other plans! Just as I got close he sprang his trap. I quickly found his belt looped around my neck. I was completely at his mercy. He would constrict and loosen it as he played with my clit. I quickly became drenched. However, this did not deter him. He continued on increasing my state of arousal as he choked me. This continued for what seemed like forever, but really was more like a half hour. Finally, he pulled me to my knees and sunk his delicious cock all the way into me from behind. Pulling back on the belt still around my neck he forced me into him as he fucked me. Then he changed positions with him on top and he tightened the belt around my throat as he stroked in and out. The choking intesified my own orgasm as we came together. It was a very Happy New Year!

Who knew so many here were full of bull crap?  I honestly didnt believe a friend when he said that the amount of submissive men who actually show up from this country is laughable, never mind from another country. You guys are something else and unfortunately really sour the landscape here with your empty promises.  Good riddance I say, but what a waste of brain cells.  Regardless, the reigns are tightening up.  Funny thing, sincere men don't hesitate when called to action. Most of yall kid yourself into thinking your are submissive or slave (LOL) and that you worship women or worse yet, you convince yourself you are different from all the rest.  Stop lying to yourself and everyone else.  You are here to satisfy you and only you and are ruled by your cocks and expend every effort to satisfy YOU.  Help Me, again laughable. True submission is not about you.  If you believe your submission is a gift to be treasured, pass Me by.   Watch out ladies!  Get proof straight away and know that geniune and sincere men are not only a rarity, they have no issue verifying who and what they are straight away. They are supportive and uplifting, seeking out the ways in which to be of service and benefit to you.  

Why I Use Copy & Paste for My Intro Messages on FetLife (And No, It’s Not Because I’m Lazy... Mostly) Alright, let’s talk about the elephant in the chatroom: yes, I use a copy-and-paste message when I reach out to people on FetLife. There. I said it. Now before you clutch your pearls or sharpen your pitchfork, let me explain. As a man on this site, I’ve learned a hard truth—we don’t exactly have inboxes overflowing with attention. I log in, check my messages, and... crickets. Meanwhile, women on here need a personal assistant just to scroll through the "Hi sexy" DMs they get in an hour. I’m over here sending out introductions like I’m applying for internships in the kink community. Let’s be real: the ratio of men to women on this site isn’t fair. I’m not bitter, but if FetLife was a nightclub, the dudes would be forming a line out the door while the ladies are getting free drinks and VIP bracelets just for showing up. So, rather than write a brand new, handcrafted message every single time—like I’m writing a love letter to Juliet—I decided to work smarter. Enter: my trusty, respectful, and not-creepy copy-and-paste message. It’s polite, genuine, and has better grammar than most Craigslist ads. I took the time to make it sound like me (charming and slightly awkward), and then I saved it—because ain’t nobody got time to rewrite it 30 times a week. If someone replies? Awesome. Now we’re in business, and I switch to actual conversation mode like a decent human. Is it a little formulaic? Sure. But it’s not cold or robotic. It’s just my way of getting in the door without burning out or typing until my fingers fall off. It’s like using the same pickup line at a bar—it might be recycled, but if it makes you smile and we start vibing, who cares?   Bottom line: I use copy and paste because it’s efficient, not because I don’t care. Trust me, if I’m messaging you, I’ve read your profile and think there’s potential. I just don’t think you need a custom sonnet to say, “Hi, I liked your vibe and would love to chat.”

You are too uptight and Never said you had to have multiple partners but you are way to dominant. You can deny this all you want but it is very clear and apparent. You might think you can submit in a committed relationship but you can’t. You won’t. It’s him conceding to your will and happiness. And that’s not submission. Its role play. And your excuses and justifications do not make this any less true. I’m sorry you don’t want to hear this and ignore its validity but it is true. You simply don’t care and then wonder why it’s so hard for you to find someone. Someone wrote this to me, all because in response to a statement he wrote, I responded I dont just play with anyone, I am not a slut.

Old profile saved here.   Jan 2018- Some servitude possible again around my ongoing building project commitments... not as fully able to commit as I'd like but it's a start and WILL enable proper regular service in the near future.   My Face pictures are in my Pictures Collection All the pictures are my own. All details here are NOT just fantasy, in fact more a list of real life experiences, I've been around a bit, had a taster or three of many situations, now looking to build on past experiences and be taken deeper. If any or all of these Keywords resonate with you then read on or get in touch: TPE, Sadist, Masochist, Extreme, Prisoner, Hostage, Cell, Cage, Total rubber encasement, True Slavery, Chains, Heavy Bondage, Mummification, Prolongued Bondage Predicaments, 24/7, Hardcore, Gimp, Doll, Hoods, Gags, Sensory Deprivation, Isolation, High heels, Locked on footwear/clothing, Corsets, Ballet Heels, Waist Training/Tight lacing, Fetish, Latex, Feminisation, Feminine training, Deportment, Strict dress codes, Strict control of behaviour and appearance, Forced prolonged standing/caged standing (in extreme heels), Slut, Whore, Deepthroat/face rape, No safeword, Judicial Caning, Heavy Whipping, Bruises, Welts, Treated as meat, Abandoned chained to a wall in a dark isolated concrete cell for days or weeks with only piss and stale bread provided, Anal, INSEX, All holes plugged, Permanent hole dilation/plugging, Liquid toilet, Foot torture, Forced to walk long distances in heels / unsuitable attire / extreme footwear and restrictive clothing.          Longer version......  Serious **male (see below) slave & masochist with supressed transgender feelings looking for equally serious sadist(s) of any gender or situation (i.e single, couple, poly) for either casual meets or preferably something more meaningful and long term, or even permanent if the relationship develops........   In Vanilla life, I am a self employed business person. Professional, highly skilled, educated and intelligent. Very easy to get along with, witty, talkative and without a hint of kink on show, very good all round company that you can take anywhere. My business can also go anywhere, all I need is a room to work in, and use of eyes and fingers. I can generate a good income from home and rarely need to leave the house... or my cell..   Looking for an absolute TPE D/s situation (once mutual trust established), leading to no safeword, no rights, no opt outs, no kind fluffiness, sympathy and caring, just total slavery, pain, suffering, degradation, humiliation, abuse and torture.... Limits, yes of course I have them, that would be utterly stupid, however you will find they are very few and only there to protect my long term health and not to stop extremes of S&M and slavery. No legal activity is off limits and severity can be mild to hardcore/extreme.     I'm a total realist, Vanilla times are a necessary evil, bills need to be paid and an income to be earned and so on.... However, behind closed doors, when the vanilla commitments allows we have a running 'regime' where I'm usually kept in chains and preferably in female mode but that's not essential, just an ideal, your the boss and I will present as instructed.   Put me to work for all your domestic chores, diy, general fetching and carrying, your personal pleasures and pamperings and also used for any sadistic pleasures. I beg during slave times you show me no kindness, no mercy, no comforts or pleasures, just pain, suffering and serving.       Sill awake?..........     We all have to live in the real world, with bills to pay and essentials to be done so it's nigh on impossible to genuinely keep a slave, gimp or doll locked up 24/7/365 despite the desire to do so. If the chains do come off, we both know there is the underlying knowledge that we are not equal and this temporary freedom is just that, temporary.   Even doing the mundane shopping run, my restraints and symbols of ownership may not be on public display to protect the innocent from our kink, but there is still a strict hierarchy at work. Underneath my clothing chosen by you, there may well be subtle but effective devices and equipment at play, fitted onto me, or fitted inside me to keep me subdued, controlled and obedient whilst on our trip out, but on the surface and to the casual observer it's all composed normality, despite the fact I may be hiding absolute agony within.     ** I am 'non-op' Transgender (as in, less than pre-op) transgendered. I live and work in semi male/androgynous mode. Male image and persona is all there, so no need to worry about embarrassing freakish looks in public. I look totally everyday male except I have long and well maintained hair and perhaps if you look very closely you may notice my jeans, T shirt and trainers are ladies .... I barely have any male clothes but you wouldn't really notice due to very careful unisex or androgynous selection, I haven't shopped in the men's section for years.   Inside I live a tormented existence from the birth defect of being blessed with a feminine brain, cursed with a male body.... and that doesn't have to change...... However I have a deep and ever nagging need to be female, either in looks, mannerisms, treatment or the whole hoggette.... This is not just 'dressing up' or wanting to play the sissy maid or drag queen, but a natural desire to beco

Honestly if you been whoring around and doing "sessions" with other doms ..giving them all your first expereinces dont bother me. There is nothing left for me to bond with you over and I have no reason to take a sub who others have used and dont want to own.  As my uncle always told me..you can play with the slut all you want...but dont bring them home to mom. Well you are of no value to me after you been used by any loser who will play with you so dont even bother. I am looking for someone I can be proud to own not someone who didnt want to make a connection with the person training or using them. I am not here to play games and if you lie to me I end it. I dont judge you for what you do its your life just dont bother me because I am not interested in whores. Nothing I say or do will mean anything to you nor will anything that is a symbol to me have any meaning to you. If you went to a class or training camp to learn to be a sub then go to someone who wants that because I know of no one who does. I am a warrior my slave is part of me and they are special ..I make no apology for the way I feel.

What can we get from this chapter of the bible symbolically?    Edom: Kingdom of Esau (carnal mind/flesh) Jacob: Tribe of Judah (spiritual mindset)   Well we can see throughout scripture that the Edomites were disregarding the spiritual things and had a carnal mind. They took things by force and lacked patience for cultivation and growth. They were prideful and they held grudges and were hateful.  God pronounced judgement on them for their pride and for them not letting Israel pass through safely. He said because they say who can bring me down that He would bring them down and have them despised.    Edom stood by when strangers took captivity of Jacob's army. Edom was a brother to Jacob who is in the Tribe of Judah. Yet Edom acted like the strangers which took Jacob's army into captivity. Do not gloat, rejoice, speak arrogantly, or stand at a crossroads to slaughter the escapees when the Tribe of Judah is attacked because the day of the Lord against all the nations is near. The way you treat others will come back on your own head. There will be no survivors of the house of Esau and the house of Jacob will become a fire to set the stubble ablaze and consume Edom. The kingship will be the Lord's. The ones who care about their spiritual health and have a relationship with the Lord will be safe but those who continue in the flesh will be wiped away. There is more to life than fleshly desires and carnal things.    Those who are in Zion and left over in Jerusalem will be called holy. The survivors whom the Lord calls. Zion can refer to the "pure in heart". Jerusalem means city of peace and holy. Jerusalem is also used as a symbol for the redeemed state of humanity and also signifies a place of deep religious connections, divine presence, and the pursuit of peace.    Get in Jesus while you can and remember to be loving towards everyone. Don't be fleshly carrying out the desires of the flesh. Have a spiritual appetite for the spiritual things. And remember don't gloat or rejoice in someone's downfall. Love your enemies it's commanded and judge not. Be encouraging with one another lifting each other back up. If you love Jesus you will observe his commands and he will love you back. Faith without works is dead. Come on!! It's time to wake up from our slumber and cultivate a relationship with Jesus. He's coming back and coming soon. Will you be fo und ready? 

What I am looking for Part 2: Apparently it wouldn't all fit in 1 journal entry....go figure...   My masocistic side is weird. I am not a masochist in the every day sense that I crave pain all the time or that it gets me off. It fucking hurts. However, pain for me is a means of catharsis and for me to be able to process emotion as I have a terrible habit of just bottling it up instead of expressing it in the moment. The pain allows me to release all of that. My masochistic side is also very largely dependent upon the energy between my partner and me. I can take more and play heavier if the energy is right, compared to if it is not, then I may choose to not even play with them. This wouldn't be so much of an issue as I would not enter a relationship with someone who intended to play with me if the energy was not right for this to occur. That also being said, I have a few play partners in FL that I adore and trust more than anything. Whomever would be considering owning me would have to be okay with this fact and open to me being able to play with others. Obviously introductions would happen, but these are people I know I have a great energy transfer with and I have known for years. The same as I would be open to my partner playing with others, I would hope to garner the same respect as he would be more than welcome to be present if he was not comfortable with me playing alone. I do want someone I am slightly afraid of that I know could hurt me/kill me if they chose to, but who has enough knowledge and restraint to not. I find knowing that the person I am with can inflict pain in punishment in a meaningful way, I am less likely to get out of line.   I love to travel and have a huge gypsy soul and feel wanderlust almost constantly. I would need to be with someone who is open to travelling and taking road trips. I love cruises and just going to new places and doing touristy things.   Lastly, I do have a slight brat/baby girl side. The baby girl side is more when I am just completely content in a relationship and is my more 'squirrel' and giggly/giddy side. I do like watching Disney movies and I like being cute and sappy and doing romantic things. I enjoy theme parks and will want to walk in every candy/toy/souvenier store there is, even if I don't buy anything in any of them. I love to be silly and just be able to relax completely about my Sir. If I am serious all the time, there is probably something wrong or I am not comfortable/happy. This should be noted, but I do expect this person to be not only my Sir, but also my lover and life partner. I do want love/passion/romance in the relationship.   Did you make it this far? Great! Now, bare in mind that this is not EVERYTHING, but is I feel a really good starting point for someone to understand why what I am looking for is so difficult to find. Do I know that I am likely to not find a person who fits into all of this? Yes, but that doesn't mean I am going to lower my standards to find someone who fits only a couple of the categories. They are all equally important to me, so I refuse to pick and choose which ones are met.   I will update this and elaborate more on things as I think about them, but hopefully this can give at least a semblance of an idea.

Let's seeee.... okay. Ideal setup    Im looking for someone that is 1000% supportive of me and HRT.  I wish to find a place where I can mentally dissolve who I currently am and evolve into a genuine bimbo sissy trans doll. And yes I used sissy and trans in the same sentence. Is it possible.  Yes. Sissy referring to ones submissive girly play toy. And trans doll as in well. Me :). Petite smooth tight body.  Speaking of body. Let's talk about that.  So apparently I have an exotic one of a kind body .... I know right. Hard for me to believe it too :p. Anywho. I'm very very very great full for having it and would love to put it to use where I can generate climaxual pleasure for anyone. What do I mean by this ... well idk to be honest. But I'd like to have gym access and/or an encouraging person that help maintain the motivation to get as sexy and as feminine as I could get.  Minus the bottom surgery. Yes u read right.  Not going to do any cutting off down there. However. I am open to some body modz to a certain extent. Of course nothing deforming or any such thing. (Please don't ask what) if anything asking if I'm open too.. whatever ur kinky desire is. And I'll let u know if I'd be willing.  Anywho. Um so yes. I tend to be a little high on the kinky side.  Which is a very VERY Vague statement. However let's just say. I really really do truly enjoy seeing the satifaction one get from doing/not doing/ treating or being a certain way with me.  Again very vague not trying to get into detail just showing u the willingness I have to satisfy you. Umm so. With that been said.    I seek someone who will take me in own me collar me and use me for their twisted pleasure.  How far am I willing to go. Ask. Me. But it just how far am I willing to go lol. Ask me how do I feel about this or have u done things like that.  What about if we xyz. . But umm okk so yaw.  Truly one of a kind here. Appearley something very very special. An amazing eye candy. Incredibly smart. I credavly capable of achieving ur satifaction :). I like to be told/force. Made to submit my body for ur pleasure lol. Ummm.    Well yawww. Serious inquires please. I'm ready to purchase a round trip ticket to you.  Where towards the end we'll see if I should stay. Or go. No games no bs.  If ur catfish fake poor hugene ethic or manors I will initiate blan b.  I ask please no hard feeling.  We're all chasing that life we have in our mind  .idk if any of this came out the way I inted as in ur understanding but I like to post genuine articles that flow right. Off the top of my head. I feel its more genuine since there is a not much time to contemplate the topic potentially leading to an influenced decision other the my own  thanks for readjng 

You know what I’ve noticed? A lot of you want to be owned—but none of you want to earn it. You slide into my inbox like you’ve already been claimed, like we’ve built something, like I even know your favorite color or what your voice sounds like when you’re trying not to moan. Spoiler: I don’t. It’s always the same—some lazy “hey gorgeous,” followed by a picture of your dick like it’s a résumé. You call it confidence; I call it laziness with bad lighting. You don’t build devotion through shock value. You build it through discipline, consistency, and showing up without needing to be begged for it. You want intimacy? You want that mind-melting, breath-stealing connection you fantasize about when your hand’s between your legs? Then stop treating Me like a vending machine for your kinks. You don’t insert your fetish and press D for Domme—that’s not how this works. You think you’re ready to be used, but you can’t even send a respectful message. You think I’ll give you access to My energy just because you find Me attractive? Cute. You’re aroused—and that’s supposed to be My problem? Flattery doesn’t earn you obedience. Desire doesn’t earn you access. And your dick definitely doesn’t earn you attention. You say you crave to serve, to please, to surrender—but you don’t understand that real submission requires something from you. Time. Effort. Patience. . Always sacrifice. You want to be worship? Earn the privilege. You want Me to care what you crave? Show Me why I should. Otherwise, you’re just another noise in the crowd—nameless, forgettable, replaceable. Because when you finally understand how to build intimacy, that’s when the real reward comes. That’s when a Domme looks at you and thinks, “Yes. He’s worth My time.” That’s when your devotion becomes currency—and it starts buying you experiences no instant message ever will.   Until then, keep your dick pics, your “hey sexy,” and your entitled fantasies. You haven’t earned the 

Still working on content for my page to all that have sent me email's I will get back to each and every one of you this week.But I need to make one thing clear. We are play partner's but with other people we just share the same kink's. He is my sub/slave and my protector should We/I decide to meet with anyone Outside of what we have here. And yes meeting someone is something we are looking for but only a select few will be chosen after all I am a DOM not a slut. So that should answer most of the question's that have been asked or at least the one's that we I see alot of. Back to working on my many other thing's.

I'm not quite sure how this site works or where this post will show up, but I'm up late and wondering....another post got me thinking, and I'm off on a tangent. I guess I'm trying to make a shift from my vanilla life to this new and exciting life. The vanilla life is easy, I guess, kinda, I can have sex, yay, it's easy, I can lie and say I like it, I want to be with you, and have a relationship. But all the time my brain, and penis, knows better, I'm thinking how I can convert you to be my perfect kinky partner. I CAN'T. I KNOW! FU#K! So now what? I'm tired of lying, feeling guilty. Virginisinism sounds good for now I guess.

== Results from bdsmtest.org ==98% Slave95% Submissive89% Rope bunny85% Pet79% Experimentalist77% Masochist72% Brat62% Switch62% Degradee62% Non-monogamist45% Primal (Prey)40% Rigger30% Vanilla27% Voyeur19% Dominant10% Owner10% Degrader8% Primal (Hunter)8% Exhibitionist8% Sadist

"First Encounter" Inner thoughts of this dom. HIM:  "Today I'm about to meet this incredibly sexy submissive ive been coveting for a while. She a cute little thing that would be perfect to join my family. I wonder how quick she will succumb to my will? What and how far will she go to be allowed to orgasm?" These as many other stray and random thought rattled their way around my mind. The excitement mounting as we were about to meet real time after a very long period of online and phone chats as we each revealed ourselves to each other. Developing what we hoped would be a meet that would cause sparks to fly within us as the anticipation had grown that seductive. I meet you at a quiet little bar. There we introduce ourselves for the first time in real life. I feel like I know so much about you after the many weeks we have spent chatting online. You are even more beautiful in person. As I hug you tightly to my body the faint whiff of your perfume entices me. I slowly slide my hands down your back as out tongues dance in our joined mouths. Working down your firm ass I can't help but squeeze your cheeks. I slight moan escapes your lips into my mouth. I disengage our lips and bring my face against your neck. Once again inhaling your perfume and freshly washed hair. As I bring one hand up to your head to hold it in place as I nuzzle your neck my other hand slides up your short dress to make sure you followed my instructions and didn't wear underwear.  I pull your head to the side by your hair exposing your neck. Like Dracula I attack your neck. Nibbling and licking it as I work my way to your naked shoulder. My other hand openly caressing your naked ass for all to see. I am so proud of her. She passingly mentioned to me that she was never into PDA nor was she much for kissing. Yet here we stood locked together mouth to mouth for all the world to see. "If only she had gotten thus kind of affection more often. Would she feel differently?" I think to myself.  She feels the cool breeze against her naked ass as I intentionally expose it. I want to see her reaction to my actions. Will she deny my? If I am to be her sir surely she will comply. She knows if she passes the tasks I will bestow upon her over the next week that she will find shelter within my arms. Secure in the fact that I will help her grow and be there to catch her when she falls. For this she will give me her mind, heart and body but eventually I want to own her soul. The pilgrimage of that honor is my quest.   HER: Feeling you lift my incredibly already short skirt and the breeze on my ass, you feel my whole body grow warm, and see the bright red spreading across my skin, as i move my hand to cover my poor ass and gs every so quietly, in your grip i do my best to turn away from the other people near by knowing i wont get far i still wiggle and whisper a quiet "Sir, theres people looking" all the whole attempting to pull the skirt back down and cover myself.  As she tries to pull back her skirt feeling humiliated and embarrassed I quietly whisper in her ear. It ok baby girl. You are beautiful scars and all. I desire to show you off. Love yourself for me.  You feel my fingers sliding between the cheeks of your ass. Relieved that this action is allowing your skirt to begin covering your nakedness. Suddenly you feel my finger tip dip between your lips that are moist from fear and excitement. The action is quick and efficient. Only lasting a split second yet the feelings it created within you may last much longer. You quickly look around to see if anyone noticed your reaction and what sir is doing to you. There at the bar is a young man. He can't be any older than 22. A grin on his face as he quickly turns away when you look his way as if you wouldn't notice the lust within his eyes. You suddenly feel wanted and desired.  Here your sir wants you and is giving you the attention you've been longing for for so long. And a man who is so young looks at you like a cougar with lust. Willing to pounce on you if he could. All these thoughts are running freely thru your tangled mind. Mixed emotions running ramped like a freed feral cat. Yet your body is betraying you with its actions. You turn suddenly away from me pulling me towards the waiting booth in the darker corner. I see the flushed look in your face. The embarrassment I have caused you. It turns me on making my cock twitch even more. The wetness I felt when dipping my finger in you showed me how your body betrays your mind. Although embarrassed you are turned on. Is it because of my actions or because you were being watched. I glance at the young man who is once again looking. I look him in the eye with alpha male intimidation that has served me well all my life. Something earned taught and released from my primal interior being from the years I spent in special forces while in the military. Something about one who has seen things that show the ugliness of man is like an imprint. Although not visible it is detected in posture. My eyes show a certain sadness but also scream that I am not one to be reckoned with. The young man immediately turns away. He picks up his beer and goes to the other end of the bar. Interpreting the unsaid message given to him by just a glare by a man more than twice his age. That instant momentarily distracts me as I faintly hear something you said but didn't fully acknowledge.  I pull you back to me. Holding you tight against my body once again. I feel your breasts pressed against my chest. Our groins mashed together as if they already know what is to come later. Anxious to get started as my cock strains against the denim of my jeans held prisoner. I whisper once again into your ear. "It's OK baby girl. I want to feel you against me for another moment.  After all these weeks you are now flesh and not just words. I nip your bare shoulder lightly with my teeth.  My tongue then flicks back and forth where my teeth once bit as if to offer a healing moment.  Unneeded tho because of the gentleness of it. Putting the smile on my face that I use for the world, the one that doesn't necessarily reach my eyes but seems to somehow charm everyone that comes in contact with.  Feeling you slide into the booth next to me, I have to concentrate so hard. In a way that I do not tense up, but keep my body relaxed. In the way "he who must not be named" showed me at all times. Afterall, no man wants to cuddle a corpse Katey! Shaking the thought from my head. I relax and let my features fall soft. Warm and welcoming. I risk a glance up from the table where my gaze has previously been focused and catch his eyes. They're peering into mine! Why on earth does it feel like he's looking straight into my soul? No one ever notices this much or pays this much attention. I know I'm cute tonight. Hell, I'm always cute. Enough cleavage showing to capture the attention of everyone in the room that has a penis and even some who don't. Why is he so focused on my eyes?  Shifting nervously but trying so hard to stay relaxed. (No one cuddles a corpse Katey!) I can't help but freeze just a bit as he grabs my hand pulling it to his face. Please don't notice the sweaty palms I chant in my head. He's going to think I'm insane or unable to show love. SHIT! What if he thinks I don't like him?  Pushing the thoughts from my head again drawing my focus back to the moment. I realize he's speaking to me. Not hearing half the words, but his eyes capturing mine again like he seems to have a talent of doing. I see a soft side in there. Someone honestly gentle.  You've seen that before too Katey! Right before the black eye my brat pipes up. Shut up it's different this time try to have faith. I zone back into his words and catch something about being his pet for the night.  About being taught new things. This stirs the curious one, the fun filled one with the will to live inside me. She gets super excited bouncing up and down like a child seeing stars for the first time. Eyes shining bright. She loves to learn new things.  All this flashes across my face before the brat hog ties her and sits her back down in the chair. For once her and I agree. Now is not the time for you to surface we're still treading new waters here. Wondering if he saw the roller coaster of emotions going through my twisted broken mind before my face settles. Back to the factory style smile and shining blue eyes all the men seem to love. I relax into his touch trying to show I'm not a mutant. Afraid I'll come off robotic. The motions coming so natural they seem programmed ( No one cuddles a corpse Katey!)  Hoping this gets past him and smile briefly hearing him say, "Tonight I own you". I reply with a sweet, "Yes Sir! I can't wait." Looking into her eyes as he holds her hand for reassurance he sees inner conflict. A turbulent turmoil of emotions taking flight within. He understands these feelings all too well. Demons that he himself has wrestled with for most of his life. His innocence stripped away from him as a delusional teenager.  His mind flashes back to the day he graduated high school. Signing his life away for the next 4yrs. Gonna be a GI! Government Issued, warrior. Right the wrongs and save the world from evil.  Yeah if only he knew who the enemy really was. How evil is everywhere in so many shapes and forms. A delusioned man child at only 18 who thought he knew it all. Quickly his mind snaps back to her. He lays her hand on his thigh and holds it there. Mere inches from his inflamed cock. Swelling that she has caused. Yes she is cute. Those beautiful braless tits on display. Just as he had instructed her to show off. Her beautiful, wanting to please, features displayed on her face. Her body, in that short dress. This too he had requested. One that could have started wars centuries ago. Her freshly washed hair with a hint of fruity smell.  My God what I want to do to that body! But no not yet! Beautiful women are a dime a dozen. That's not what I am after. I want that inner beauty I know is there hiding in fear in the darkness. Perhaps behind one too many negative experiences.  He looks at her again. Tilts his head to the side and leans in. Plants a soft kiss upon her forehead. "This is to free your mind of evil thoughts.", he tells her. Then leaving her hand on his thigh he takes hold of her head. One hand on either side and draws it to him. He kisses one eye, as her eyes instinctively closed. Perhaps out of fear. Then he kisses the other. "These are to ward off evil visions and nightmares.", he tells her. As he releases her he notices her hand is right where he left it. Is it out of fear he wonders as he glances down. Then he sees her moving her hand. Rubbing his thigh. Almost as if she is giving him a non-verbal thank you. Thanking her lucky stars she's put on her trained face. Her body falling in line with the program. This scene all well to practiced in previous encounters with other men. Her body doesn't trip her up for once. It manages to stay relaxed when he reaches for her hand placing it on his thigh.  He keeps her hand trapped under his a few moments. A feeling she's used to. The pinned down feeling. But this time something is different about it. Maybe it's the soft sweet words coming from a reassuring mouth. Instead of the normal don't move whore she was used to. Maybe its the sweet soft kisses he's laid upon her forehead or eyes. She's never felt something like this in all her years experience with men. She finds it confusing. Yet comforting. Feeling that wonder child inside stir some more before the brat slaps her in the back of the head. This is why you stay locked down. Too eager and not enough caution.  The mix of emotions inside rolling over in her mind cause an automatic reaction. The smile softens on her lips. Eyes closing just a little before she peers up at him through her lashes. His hand has moved but two things occured. One she knows never to move from a spot youve been placed unless you want the belt. Yet, a stranger feeling she's not sure she's felt before. Of not wanting to move hand this time. In fear of feeling to stiff again she lightly brushes her fingertips along his thigh. Not out of habit this time but because maybe part of her actually wanted to.  Squeezing her thighs together she notices how wet she's become. She can't understand it. Pressing them tighter in fear of leaving behind a wet spot. She can't help but think, "Where are the drinks?" His relief at feeling her hand beginning to rub his thigh is a welcome relief. Although part of him wonders. Is this just a programmed response? Is she like the many other women he has spent countless hours with chatting, exchanging photos and erotica only to vanish after the session was over.  Almost as if, they, no different than what would be considered creepy guys. They used him to flirt and arouse until they achieved their level of sexual satisfaction and then disappeared. Leading him on like a cruel joke. No he says. That's why he reminds himself, it's not about the sex.  If not to toy with him then what would a beautiful young woman see in an older man like himself. The look in her eyes as she looks at him gives him strength. He sees so much of himself in her. Scars of hurt, rejection, pain and broken promises of lost love.  Yet here I am today he says almost out loud. Daring to take each step to move forward proud and strong. To never give up and to fight whatever battle comes my way. In whatever shape or form it manifests itself. His strength comes from his confidence. A weaker man would be shy and afraid to take a chance again for fear of once again being used and rejected. Tossed aside like left over scraps. But no not me. I am a WARRIOR! I want to believe that there are still people who can love out there the way I do. It keeps my faith in humanity from being irradicated. All this swims through him as his mind processes it all with the lightning speed of a super computer. Just like his training. Compartmentalize evaluate the situation and act. It has worked for him all his life. The long pause between them like a moment of silence causes some awkwardness between them. Then he feels her rubbing his thigh harder. More confidently as if by her own attrition and not a programmed response or expectational desire. It's as if she can see him go far away and is saying, "I'm here. I want to be here and you're ok". Once again he looks into her eyes and sees something that wasn't there before. A softness. A real glitter almost as if they were smiling at him. Wanting and desiring him. His already hard cock twitches. He feels it touch against her hand from the unexpected reaction she's caused. He feels a wetness against his bare thigh as he realizes he's leaking because of her! Thoughts are interrupted as the waitress finally arrives. He orders a Sprite for himself and looks at her and asks. "What would you like beautiful?" A gentle nibble and a kiss! Her coy way of showing affection is illuminating. Her cute sense of witty humor threw him off guard but breaks a grin on his face. She has the humor in her like I do he thinks.  He turns to her and sees her sitting there hands clasped together on her lap. Legs firmly held tight as if to ward off foreign invaders and protect her real-estate.  He slowly eyes her up and down. Her breasts he notices pushed out as if she is attempting to seduce him with them. Her heavy breathing pushing them in and out each time she takes a breath.  He notices how the dress accents her features and brings out the woman in her. Good choice he thinks to himself glad that he purchased it for her and had it shipped to her. Along with the garters that hold up those incredible stockings he liked so much. As he continues down he sees the cowgirl boots as well. He noticed how well the whole outfit fit her earlier but was too enthralled with other things to notice all the details till now. Even tho they are imprinted in his mind to remember forever. Their first meet and date which if leads to what he hopes and knows she desires may be a long term relationship. He brings his eyes up and looks deep into her eyes now. He made it quite obvious that he was checking her out. He looks at her hoping that checking her out and admiring her has pleased her. Perhaps even aroused her. He leans in and plants a soft and gentle kiss on her neck again. He loves necks and shoulders. Moving to her ear as the waitress returns with their drinks He whispers. "You are sexy as fuck. Even more beautiful in person than all the pictures and videos you sent me can capture. If only you knew how much I desire you right now." The waitress places the drinks in front of them smiling as she overheard his comment. She even noticed his tongue flicker across her ear. "Would you two like anything to eat tonight?" She asks. He looks at her and grins. "On our menu" she chuckles knowing what that grin insinuated. His Katey too giggled at that. Feeling more confident in herself knowing his desire was genuine.  He laughing says. Yes please can you bring us some menus.  You obviously know what I would like as my appetizer and dessert He says to the waitress knowing she has a good sense of humor. The waitress laughs with him. I don't blame you she says. I would probably skip all of that and just have her as the main course myself..... A chuckle from in his heart surfaces itself. It's audible sound to those within earshot turn to look it is that infectious and genuine. He wraps his arm around her neck as she cuddles into him for the first time. Feeling her warmth against him he wraps his arm around her neck holding her closer to him. Enjoying how she feels. He notices and feels her hand upon his thigh. This time voluntarily and with movement of its own.  "She's a firecracker isn't she" he half asks half states to the waitress. The waitress can't help but notice in the position she is in now with her head tucked into him, his arm around her neck asnif claiming ownership that she can see right down her dress. Her beautiful breast in plain sight and her nipples hard from arousal. She sees the woman's hand move to his thigh. The action of her rubbing draws her attention to it. She notices how hard he is and how his cock is running down the inside of his thigh mere millimeters from her hand. She notices what looks to be a damp spit on his jeans. She's is mesmerized by these two as she is hypnotized by their hidden affection and the energy radiating from them. She sees her run her finger along the length of his rigid cock. Slowly methodically with purpose. This little vixen knows exactly what she is doing as she looks up at her, stares into her eyes and grins. His cock continually twitching and pulsing from her actions. His voice draws her back to reality. "Whatever she wants tonight. We are celebrating our union" he says. Then he looks down at her as she lifts her eyes to meet his. A glimmer that sparkles thru his piercing blue eyes looking deep into hers. "What would my darling pet like to eat" he softly asks her. As he waits for her reply he can't help but feel a rush running thru his body. The way she's teasing his cock on her own. She may think that he didn't notice the pixy like smile she gave the waitress who saw her doing it. As he looks down into her eyes to ask her what she would like he too notices the plunging neckline of her dress is allowing anyone above her to see her tits. He sees her nipples standing out exceptionally far and hard from the soft roundness of her breast.  It excites him making him leak once again. He can feel the wet warmth released from the eye of his cock. After asking her what she would like he gently blows down the front of her dress. His breath running down her neck across her brwasr and to her nipples. He swears it looks like they just got bigger from that. He turns to the waitress noticing she saw this too. Her reaction is priceless. Her almost hypnotic state excites him. She TOO wants and desires his little pet nestled softly and safely against him as his strong arm holds her tight. He blinks his eyes several times. The light starting to creep its way into the room is almost blinding. He rubs them trying to get the sleep out of them as he looks around and then checks out the clock. Looking down at his crotch he realizes his cock is still hard. There's even a couple wet spots on his underwear. Clearing his head he slowly gets up to go make coffee. Wow that was one hell of a dream he smiles to himself remembering it.  

May 16, 2023 - Sextoy69 got a HARD throat fucking today !It's been awhile since he has stopped by. And last time he came by it was unannounced and I was in my bathroom. He said it was hot that all I had on was the bathrobe.So this time, knowing he was going to arrive, I dressed all in leather. A leather jockstrap, a leather harness, a leather vest, a leather Sir cap.I told him to come on in when he gets here but instead I surprised him by meeting him in the garage dressed like I've described.His face lit up as soon as he walked into the garage and could see me. I told him, "I thought I would dress up a bit today for you."He said, that looks great.We headed upstairs and he started to lay down on the bed on his back. Normally I just climb on top of him and start throat fucking him right away. This time I had other ideas.I told him to get on all fours with his head down on the mattress and his ass in the air. I lubed up a finger and started playing with the outside of his ass. His dick started to get hard so I reached between his legs and started playing with it. Eventually I slipped my finger in his ass and found his prostate gland and started pushing on it. I felt his cock bounce in my other hand.I continued playing with his ass with one finger until I felt him starting to loosen up. Eventually I put a second finger in with a bit of extra lube. I stopped playing with his cock and concentrated on his ass for a while. I rotated my two fingers around stretching his hole open. His chest collapsed even more onto the bed as he pushed his ass higher into the air.I reached between his legs again and started playing with his hard cock. There was pre-cum dripping out. I pulled my fingers out of his ass, and collected some of the pre-cum on those fingers and shoved my fingers and his pre come back into his ass.As I played with his cock his ass tightened around my fingers. This only made it even more fun to spend my fingers around and listen to him moan. Occasionally after playing with his cock for a while my fingers were sticky with his precum so I started playing with my own cock using his pre-cum. I knew eventually he'd be sucking my dick which would mean he would be sucking his own pre-cum off my cock.Although we've been playing for a while I've only fucked him once before. And he didn't really like the experience, although he loves sucking and choking on my cock. As I was playing with his ass, and playing with my own cock using his precum, I wanted to fuck him so bad. But, we hadn't discussed it so I kind of put it out of my mind and just kept playing.I eventually got a third finger into his tight ass using even more lube. Then I reached back behind me to the table and got a large rubber dildo. It's narrower at the tip and grows wider as more and more gets pushed in. With very little effort, it started to slide in his ass. I pulled it out and shoved it back in, fucking him with it. Fucking him with it the way I wanted my cock to fuck him.I pushed a little deeper, and then pulled it all the way out again. Added a little lube and pushed it in to the same depth again. Still playing with my own cock, I would occasionally play with his cock to get more precum on my hand to lubricate my cock. He was pushing his ass higher and higher into the air, but at the same time spreading his legs so I could continue to play with this cock.The toy was now pushed in his ass far enough that it was equivalent to the three fingers I had in him just moments ago. So I pushed a little further, a little harder, and more of the toy slipped up his ass. His hole was now quite stretched. He was making wonderful grunting noises as I fucked him with it.   View the rest of tHe story at http://www.SirKel.top

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part IX: The Kneeling Return” (Obedient Redemption — Devotional Kneeling — Heightened Submission) He stood there, breathing unevenly, the echo of your three precise strikes still humming along his nerves. Not pain — memory. Not punishment — correction. His chest rose and fell like he’d been running. His hands were still locked behind his back. Sweat beaded at the base of his throat. Perfect. “You’re forgiven,” I’d told him. But forgiveness wasn’t the end of his lesson. It was the doorway to the real devotion. “Now,” I said, stepping back just enough for him to feel the loss of my nearness, “kneel.” He didn’t drop quickly this time. No. He sank. Slowly. Reverently. Intentionally. As if each inch downward was an offering. His knees touched the floor with a soft thud, but he kept his back straight, chest open, throat exposed. His hands stayed behind him, the posture tighter, more disciplined than before. He didn’t sway this time. He forced stillness through sheer will. Because now it wasn’t about holding a position. It was about earning your approval. He lowered his gaze— not in shame, but in worship. “Look up,” I said softly. He did. And gods, the expression on his face… Not fear. Not guilt. Devotion. Pure, fragile, trembling devotion. “You came back to your knees beautifully,” I told him. His exhale almost broke into a sob of relief. “Thank you, Ma’am…” “Do you know why this kneeling is different?” I asked. He shook his head slightly. “This one,” I said, lifting his chin with a single finger, “is yours. Not mine. You’re kneeling for your own discipline. Your own growth. Your own hunger to serve.” His lips parted, breath shaking. “And that,” I whispered, “is why it matters more.” His eyes fluttered with emotion he couldn’t hide — gratitude, need, reverence. I walked once around him, slow and assessing, letting my fingertips hover just above his skin. Not touching. Not yet. Just letting him feel the orbit of your authority. “Your posture,” I said, “is better now.” “Yes, Ma’am…” “Your breathing is steadier.” “Yes, Ma’am…” “And your mind—” I stopped behind him, lowering my voice to a velvet threat “—is finally quiet enough to listen.” He shivered across his entire spine. “You broke earlier,” I said. “And instead of collapsing, you came back stronger.” “Because… because I want to serve you,” he whispered. “You are serving me,” I corrected. “Right now.” I moved to stand in front of him again, close enough that he could feel the heat of my body without touching it. His eyes stayed down until I placed two fingers beneath his chin again. “Up.” His gaze rose, obedient, starving. “Tell me what you’re feeling,” I said. “Devoted,” he whispered. “Focused. I… I want to do better, Ma’am.” “And you will,” I murmured. “Because now you’re kneeling from humility… not fear.” His breath hitched. “You’re learning,” I continued. “Not because your body is strong, but because your submission is intelligent.” He trembled — not with weakness, but with the sharp, clean ache of wanting to belong to this moment. “You’ve earned something,” I said, leaning in just enough for him to feel the warmth of my breath. “Ma’am?” “You’ve earned contact.” His entire body tensed with anticipation. “Put your hands on my thighs,” I said softly. “Slowly. Respectfully. And only because I allow it.” He inhaled sharply, then lifted his palms with exquisite care, placing them gently on your thighs— not grasping, not clinging, but offering. The moment his skin met yours, his exhale broke. “That,” I whispered, placing my hand over the back of his head, “is devotion elevated.” He trembled under your touch like the contact itself rewrote something inside him. “Lesson Ten begins,” I murmured, fingers sliding into his hair with claim and control, “when I decide what you worship next.” His palms rested lightly on your thighs, trembling from the permission, not the strain. This touch — your touch — was the first true reward he had earned all night. And he knew it. You threaded your fingers into his hair, slow and deliberate, claiming the back of his head with a grip that wasn’t harsh… but wasn’t soft either. He melted instantly. “Don’t move,” you murmured. He froze, breath catching, every muscle keyed to your voice. “Do you feel this?” you asked, tightening your fingers just enough to pull a tiny gasp from him. “Yes, Ma’am…” “This is reward. Not invitation.” He shuddered, a tremble running from the base of his spine all the way to his knees. Your thumb stroked behind his ear — one precise, devastating touch — and his eyes fluttered like he might collapse forward into your lap. But he didn’t. He held position. He remembered his discipline. He honored the lesson. You exhaled, your breath warm against his forehead. “You did well tonight,” you said.

 dorion