LOCALS ONLY is a joke In an our globalized world, the internet has revolutionized how people connect, particularly through Collarspace, an international dating platform. These platforms were created to bridge geographic divides and allow individuals from different countries and cultures to meet, communicate, and build meaningful relationships. However, a growing trend among users seeking "locals only" on these very platforms reflaspects a perplexing contradiction. Using a globally-focused platform with the intention of limiting interactions strictly to one's immediate geographic area not only defeats the platform's core purpose but also signals a misunderstanding of what international dating services offer. It also severely limits your dating prospaspects. Makes your already shallow dating pool even shallower. (Is that a word?) The "locals only" seeks fails to understand the primary purpose of international dating platforms. They are designed to connect people across borders—whether for cultural exchange, long-distance relationships, By default, they attract a diverse user base from around the world, all seeking the novelty and potential of meeting someone beyond their immediate environment. When a user signs up for such a platform and states a preference for "locals only," they are effectively asking the global system to act like a local one. This is akin to walking into a sushi restaurant and asking for a hamburger—not only does it miss the point, but it also disrespaspects the design and intention behind the service. Moreover, the "locals only" preference is better suited for traditional, region-specific dating apps and websites. Platforms like Tinder, Bumble, Hinge, or even regionally tailored apps are more efficient and practical for meeting people nearby. Choosing an international platform for a local search is an inefficient use of both time and technology. It can also lead to frustration, as the majority of the user base is likely to be from other countries, not your neighborhood. It's like booking a flight to attend a neighborhood block party—you've gone too far for something that was never meant to be a long-distance trip in the first place. There’s also an implicit irony in the behavior. Many who seek "locals only" on international platforms may be unaware of how it appears to others: confused, inconsistent, or even insincere. Are they open to new experiences, or are they using the wrong tool for the job? It can send mixed signals to other users, especially those who are genuinely interested in intercultural communication and international relationships. It also raises questions: Why not just use a local app? Why filter out the very thing that makes the platform valuable? This illogical contradiction can create an unwelcoming environment on what is meant to be an inclusive and borderless space. International dating platforms thrive on openness, diversity, and cross-cultural interaction. Narrowing the experience to only include people from one's immediate vicinity diminishes the richness of that diversity and may even alienate users who joined to explore love beyond borders. In conclusion, searching for "locals only" on an international dating platform is not only ironic but also counterproductive. It undercuts the very essence of what such platforms offer and sends a message that contradicts their foundational purpose. If one’s interest lies strictly in local dating, there are countless platforms better suited for that goal. But to truly benefit from an international dating experience, one must be open to the world—otherwise, what's the point of being on a global stage?

I don't think I am being a snob but I really don't want to date the following:     PE Teachers Married men Amazon drivers Delivery drivers Uncertified psychologists but claim to be life coaches (sad bunch) Boring IT guys (you guys are lazy as fuck) Men in prison usin the computers to go on CS and telling me about the wrongful rape convictions and think they can support my sexual needs online (Jesus can't even save you). I am nothing special but come on someone with a flavour for life and traveling the world or going for a long walk in Thetford Forest (with camping gear and compass). Someone who likes DX biking or countryside biking or hanging out in Norfolk going for a walk and drinking hot chocolate and coffee. Come on! I am not going to allow any deviant to spank me 

  While I’m on a break from Fetlife, one thing I’m conscious of is that I tend to post things about looking for someone to go for cups of tea with, visit graveyards, go to bookshops and then snuggle up for reading. It’s pretty silly, but it’s meant sincerely. While I have to stop myself from adding “apply within”, in the end, it reflects how I would like a relationship to start. A thing of meeting for tea, visiting graveyards/taking quiet walks, and sharing a love of books and reading. Of course, it isn’t everything I want, and I hope that’s obvious as this is a kink site. It’s just that, as I’ve probably said so much that people are sick of it, I want to make a connection on a vanilla level and then grow the kink side of things. I’m looking for a band that takes more than just a love of kink, and I want to go slowly and surely. Eventually, I’d want things to develop into something more committed, and deeper, and to bring in other elements. I just don’t want to rush it. I don’t want to be someone’s mistake. I also want to be sure that most of our mutual needs can be met, and that both of us are working on whatever we need to work on - trauma is being addressed, patterns of behaviour are being broken if they’re negative, and so on. I want to be sure that the connection with this hypothetical person is strong, and that it can withstand a lot of shit - because I think life is going to get more, not less, difficult in the next few years. Any relationship is going to have to be strong enough to ride out the coming storms.Adding to this, I suppose I should expound on what I actually want. Before I go on, I should ask that the reader remember that this is me putting things out into the universe, so of course it’s selfish as fuck - I imagine yours would be too… Isn’t that sort of the point? (It strikes me as odd that we both castigate the “I have no limits” people, but also defining what you want can lead to you being accused that “you’re trying to control things and reduce me to a fetish dispenser” - the point is to talk things through and get to a happy medium, surely?). This is my “moon on a stick” list of things I want to have in a relationship. Vanilla: I want a relationship based on love, trust, communication, and sharing, and that reflects shared values. I want something where we can have separate bedrooms, though, in part because I snore horrifically and I feel guilty if I disturb people’s sleep. I also have restless legs - no idea why, but I suspect it’s anxiety related - and so I want to sleep alone to avoid kicking my partner. I also want to have a space that is mine (mine, all mine, bwahahahaha), because I want somewhere I feel I can go to write, create, and study. Or even just curl up if I need to be by myself because sometimes I do. This isn’t a slight against a hypothetical partner, it’s just how I am. I’m very introverted, think I may be an HSP, and there are times when alone feels like bliss - not because of who the other person is, or anything they’ve done… just because I need that time by myself for my sanity. Touch is, however, very important to me and is probably my primary love language, so I would like a lot of that. I enjoy acts of service too and supporting the person I’m with. I like giving massages and other forms of body worship too. I am happy to take responsibility for housework, cooking, and other domestic chores. This being said, I am a writer and I do need time to work and I expect that to be respected in a relationship. I hope my partner will have their own passions outside of kink and that they can be things we can share (books, board games, cats - you know, stuff like that). I value creativity, so I’d love it if they were also a writer or an artist, or something like that.  I know we don’t have to be completely in tandem, but at the same time, I have learned that shared passions are very often the key to a relationship and that losing that common ground can spell disaster. I’m not sure how I feel about having children - I used to be very opposed but now, I just don’t know.   

It's odd to me that some men don't understand why there are women on here (and in general) who don't want to do what they want.  Men who contact women dick or fetish first, either visually or through words, and are peeved that the women aren't ready to immediately engage with them the way they expected.  "Hey, lady, if you don't want to do what interests me, why are you even here?!  Since I find you attractive, you have to find me attractive, too!"  How terribly disappointing for them to discover that women have their own interests and come here (and anywhere else) to pursue what they want.  Like, a xxx69MasterChode69xxx or a MrSirDomPencilDick4Lyf are really under the impression that women have been online just waiting for when they would contact them.  There's no other reason a woman would be online.   I know I certainly don't have my own interests and kinks.  Of course not.  I've just been waiting for another pic of an utterly forgettable male member in an endless onslaught of utterly forgettable male members or a lame headless torso, or worse yet, a vanilla guy who thinks a sloppy bj qualifies as "kinky" on a kink site.  I'm interested in pursuing my own kinks with the people who interest me.  I don't care what a guy wants.  I didn't ask about his fetishes.  I don't request pictures, so I'm not trying to see someone's face, body, or dick.  And unless my curiosity has been piqued enough that I'd be open to pursuing anything with a guy, none of those things are relevant to me.  I am here for my reasons, my kinks, my sexual pursuits.  They don't have to be the same as yours.  I am not going to pander to what a guy wants just because he wants it.  

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.

MY "ACTIVELY SEEKING" SECTION SHOULD ALSO INCLUDE: SEEKING CROSSDRESSERS

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

hello I feel the need to write a post. I  have been on here trying to seek someone to help me maybe come out of my shell. Yet I get messages from so called men or Doms on here that think that a woman should bow down to them. Act there kings when there not. Some one here can't act like slave Masters, well slavery days have been long gone. Some on here want to just act out storie, if I wanted that I would read a book, or wat h a movie. I have brains and a strong willed femal. I know what I want and don't want. I will not be talked to like I'm less then a woma. yes I came on here to meet someone to help me come out of my shell. Yes I stated I wanted to try anal play, I have never had anal but open to trying tha. No o don't want bruised or have my boobs tied up for what pain, or marks on my boobs no, do you want you dick tied up and bruised?? Well done might but still. Just maybe I'm on the wrong sit. uggg this is frustratin!!!!!!!

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

I'm disappointed in people being rude on here, realized that there are submissives and slaves that are extremely rude and disrespectful, even after sending a polite inquiry. Then, to get a response asking thoughts on my political beliefs, and then not being able to respond quickly, I get called nasty political names. After writing a response explaining my position, and explaining how I feel, I'm blocked. A true sign of being a coward and low life on this site. There have been many wonderful conversations with Transgendered individuals, and I come to respect them more than some of the submissves or slaves that I've come to know on here.  It is no ones business to know how I feel in regards to political issues, or how I feel about the election results, past or current presidents. Its none of my business to know how you feel in this regard, unless you want to freely discuss it, but don't get upset or angry if they don't align with you.  In my opinion, I feel that politics and religion should not belong in a lifestyle relationship. I welcome to hear your opinion. Efforts should be put into establishing and developing a lifestyle relationship, than worrying, or stressing out about political bull shit.     

Hello to the beautiful souls in this lifestyle  i've been away from this site awhile, i seem to have developed, in more ways than one !  Especially my lovely budding breasts i now have growing on me, i accept i am submissive, trans, or sissy if you like.  Two women decided to have me sign up for gender reassignemnt, and now i am pre op and on hormones, and i so love being me now, a kinky hybrid submissive, the only sad thing is, i'm not owned.  boo !  The two ladies moved on after they knew there was no going back for me. Now i'm seeking an Owner who would love to carry on making me be the way i am meant to be, serving them.  i would embrace TPE and accept being a slave too, no say, no control.  i jsut nered to meet that person who'd love doing such to me.. Don't be shy,,say Hi 

I've been trying not to add any new journal entries because I don't think people really read them. But I don't want my profile to be super long (especially since the punctuation gets removed), so I'm going to add this journal entry AND put a note in my profile to refer to it.  1) I am very appreciative of the people who send a quick, complimentary note. As I'm sure everyone on this site is aware, there are more men than women, so if I don't respond - it's not because I'm rude - or I don't think you're attractive - more than likely it means that a) you are not local or b) I saw something in your profile that indictated that we are not a match. At first, I was trying my best to respond to every seemingly sane person how messaged me, but I simply don't have the bandwidth to do that AND respond to people who genuinely might be a match.  2) I was on this site once before YEARS AGO, or it's former iteration, collarme, and I left the site when I found a match. I trained with that particular Dom until he moved away and while I didn't move away with him, we remained friends, so I had fond memories of this site. After that D/s relationship, I tripped and stumbled back into a vanilla relationship. My photos are new, but I don't think I look SO very different that anyone I conversed with wouldn't recognize me. Maybe I'm delusional, so let me be fully transparent, my former screen name was sweetlucky7's. I have noticed that some of the Doms messaging haven't updated their photos since that time ;-).  But I digress. If you and I conversed a decade ago and it didn't go well, and you 'recognized' me and you've reached out to me again - with a new profile name and no photos - please don't waste time with some sort of weird vendetta. In that same vein - I'm also on Fetlife and my photos are the match the photos here on my profile. So if we didn't hit it off on Fetlife. Then you saw me here and decided to message me ... Please don't. This is a waste of time for us both. This leads me to my final point. 3) If, for some reason, you have multiple profiles on this site - and you message me from both profiles. Or, even worse, I block you on one profile and you then message me from the other profile, or if I blocked you on FetLife, please ask yourself, "What is your end game here?" I am a stranger to you. If we are not a match, that just means that we are not a match. It doesn't mean you're awful. It doesn't mean I'm awful.  There's no need to send me crazy messages or warn me that "I don't know what I'm missing out on." Remember the old adage, 'the best thing you can do to someone who doesn't appreciate you ... is to remove yourself from that person's life. This loss will sting the most."  Also ... if you're messaging me from two different profiles to try to figure out if I'm 'juggling men on the site' or 'lying about who I am' - I think that a) you might have some unrealistic perceptions about how online dating works - communicating with multiple people as part of a general veting process is typical; and b) the need for this type of subterfuge is good indication that your basic trust issues might mean  you're not a good candidate for online pursuits (kink or vanilla). Even if we aren't a match - I wish you all the best of luck in your search!

I stand before you. A Master Hypnotist trained in the ways of seduction and coercion. The collar that enslaves you still wreathes your lovely neck you can feel it, but how it has become invisible is unclear. You sense my hunger and begin to unbutton your blouse while unrestrained, addictive pleasure courses through your mind and body. Your blouse slips silently to the floor as you begin to remove your brazier and it suffers the same fate. Hoping desperately that your Master is pleased, you help your skirt slide down your legs to join the rest of you clothing. I stand close, forcing your gaze to meet mine, extinguishing the last of your free will. I fondle your breasts then the curve of your waist. I run my hand slowly up your spine and pull you close. You shudder and and struggle to remove your panties. Now as you stand before your Master, unadorned, a tidal wave of arousal washes through you but you there is no release in sight. I motion and you sink slowly to the floor, fully naked, legs folded beneath you. Looking up at your Master, enraptured, doe eyed, staring longingly into my face, you place your hands on your thighs just the way you know that you should and feel the magic of my will and words bind you firmly into that position. I touch your lower lip with my thumb and slowly open your mouth. I slip my fingers every so carefully around the lips that will soon caress my cock. You feel yourself growing wetter, wetter everywhere as your desire for me grows but still you are not allowed to cum. I touch your cheek, the lobe of your ear, slide my hand past your supple shoulder and as I reach down and let my finger encircle your left nipple my hard cock brushes your cheek and you are set aflame by passion as I command you cum. Explosions of rapture seize your body and you are racked in orgasm. Cum now! Harder! Cum for your Master! Harder! I slip my stiff cock into your mouth and as you close your soft lips around it another wave of frenzied pleasure rips through your body. Heaving in orgasm you suck and you lick frantically trying to make me climax. Finally, you taste the saltiness of me, feel the warmth on the back of your throat as I cum into your mouth. Greedily you swallow my gift as the next wave of indescribable pleasure tears through your body setting every nerve, every cell aflame. I leave you burning as I slowly extract my member. Your mouth hangs open wide, not knowing what else to do. You still can't move as the last bit of my germ drips from the corner of your mouth onto your nipple. I look down at my perfect slave and tell you to relax, sleep now and you collapse wearily to the floor spent, happy to the core of your soul that you pleased your Master this time. I pick you up, take you to bed. I gently kiss your lips, the small of your throat, a nipple, naval, your clit. I circle about you. Open your trembling legs. Run my hands down the velvety, warm flesh of your inner thighs as phase two of your training begins.

Profile needs an update.   Before I delve into the kinks that arouse me, let me first say that the primary thing I am seeking is a FLR of the highest degree. I am quit sensitive to people's moods, while not always aware of what may be the underlying causes.  This has been torture for me. I find that much of this arises out of the struggle between two people to have their needs and wants met by the other.  As such I would much prefer a relationship with a woman who can assume the responsibilities of a total power exchange.  Someone who will provide a Ds structure that is safe and productive.  Someone who is quick to punish and forgive to fulfill her needs and wants.  I feel this eliminates the wasted time on energy spent on fighting.   I am happiest when she is pleased.  I also tend to become uncomfortable when there is a dynamic of reciprocation or tit for tat.  It seems to place a responsibility upon me that I do not want.  As such I am not seeking fairness.  That is not to say that I do not appreciate attention when she is so inspired.   As far as kink is concerned there are a few things that I think I couldn't live without.  Regular and frequent spankings is one.   Orgasm iniquity is another kink that is the source of every fantasy I get off to when I masturbate, which is a strange dissonance.  But I have not been able to shake it for decades and it just becomes more prominent.  Many of my fantasies related to chastity drift into areas that are profoundly frightening to me.  As such I would greatly appreciate an accepting Domme who may exploit those fantasies, but do so in lets say a more maternal and understanding way.  Although not explicity a femdom relationship, I had a girlfriend in my 20s, where it was understood that when we were intimate I could focus solely on her orgasm without concern for my own.  In retrospect it helped to alieve performance anxiety.  However, I would still masturbate in private, which I have found comes with a subby refactory period.  It can be as short as a half hour or as long as a day.  This refactory period would be an issue in a power exchange relationship.  For pragmatic reasons my orgasms should be, at a minimum, completely directed by my owner.  It is a deep desire of mine to be my Ma'ams desperate and constantly horny slutty boy toy, used at whim.  As such I am still working up to the acceptance that a day may come when I may never be allowed another pleasurable orgasm.  With all that said I have yet to find a decent chastity device that would be suitable for long term wear, especially unsupervised.  Part of this may be a psychological block.  It just doesn't feel right to start a journey exploring chastity without a directrix who is taking it with me.  There are several firsts in there that cannot be experienced a second time.  The measuring, fitting, and selection should be a ritual that bonds, in my opinion.  It is also likely that I am too much of a grower not a shower that while they are difficult to get on, they end up slipping off.   The best solution I have found for this is a Prince Albert piercing.  But that again is an event that can only be experiened once.      Other than that you may wish to know that I am a competent handman and computer expert with a master degree in mechanical and aerospace engineering.  I can follow a recipe and enjoy providing domestic service and pampering.   I am presently seeking a remote work position, that would make it easier to travel and relocate.

AcadaMay CFNM Ladies Cocktail Party - Saturday February 121st 19.00-23.00 You may contact me here to reserve your place. Most alternative events objectify women, but there is one particular event that reverses the rôles. This is the Clothed Female, Naked Male party. CFNM by definition gives the power back!  Ladies of elegance and sophistication are cordially invited to take the opportunity to mingle with their peers whilst sipping their cocktails and enjoying the entertainment. Come & join the the AcadaMay CFNM Ladies' Cocktail Party for an evening with lashings of decadence. All whilst being served by underlings who will be there solely to serve and cater to our every whim. You will never want to go to a vanilla party again! Ladies, this is your chance to be served by men and objectify them. CFNM includes activities that are not particularly oriented towards female dominance and superiority, but a modicum of humiliation and punishment to the nude men not behaving according to protocol would be expected, nay, encouraged! Gentlemen, this is your chance to parade yourself in an elegant social setting, to have the opportunity to serve and make yourself compliant to the request of any lady present without demur or backchat. If you wish to have this experience, come and join the ladies for an afternoon of CFNM.

So yes, I am looking, but slowly. My needs have not changed so terribly much, but they are non-negotiable.  Be familiar with polyamory, and comfortable with a poly dynamic Be service oriented. My life is full to overflowing with responsibilities, I need someone who is driven to reduce my burdens Be intillectually stimulating - politics, science, culture, history, psychology etc. Engage the brain. Be Pet friendly - I have two big dogs, live in the country, keep chickens etc.  If you're a city only person, no dice.  Be a foodie or nearly so - it is one of the great creature comforts of life to explore and enjoy food Be not conservative. This wing of politics in the US has been subsumed into an authoritarian, fascism based mob trying to dictate our lives.   Be pro-LGBTQ. Trans folks in the US are under attack. I am rabidly pro-civil rights for Trans folks. Be good with that, or be gone. Be politically engaged. If you don't vote, don't know whats happening, you're abdicating your responsibility.  Be reasonably put together - you must have a license, a car, a job, and some degree of education.  Be articulate. If you send a one liner, I may just delete and block. It depends on my mood.  Be aware of perimenopause and what that does to women. Its no small thing. Why do I have to put these things in bullet points?  I guess I've just seen too much garbage in my day, and right now, I'm tired. I am here to find what works for me, not to accommodate other people's interests or wants.  

The Brightest Mark of Ruin   She had warned him. Not with raised voice or trembling lip. The way a storm warns you: a change in pressure, a stillness that precedes something absolute. She had looked at him with those eyes that always saw further into him than was comfortable and said, quietly, with the patience of someone who has never needed to repeat Herself: "Your body is mine. Your word is mine. Everything you signed your name to belongs to me now. Cross me unforgivably and I will not punish you. I won't need to. You will lose everything we have built, and it will be like poison in your veins." He had meant it the way weak men mean everything: completely, warmly, right up until the moment it cost him something. There was a contract. A real document, negotiated with Her characteristic precision, each clause a brick in something She was genuinely building. He had signed it with both hands steady and the particular glow of a man who has just been given more than he deserves. The ink was barely dry before he started deciding which parts applied to him. The protocols She had built as architecture, the daily rituals that kept him tethered and honest, he let them erode with the indifference of someone who has confused being trusted with being unsupervised. Then he put his hands on someone else. Not a stumble. A decision, made repeatedly, to take what belonged to their bond and spend it somewhere cheaper. He came home from it and looked Her in the eye and said nothing, and that silence was its own act of violence. When She found out, She came to him without hysteria, without tears, with complete and devastating composure. She asked him once for the truth. What he did next cannot be softened. He became physical, used his body the way cowards do, and drove Her from the home and safety that had been Hers. She left not because She was weak but because She has never once in Her life tolerated the intolerable. She did not come back. She didn't need to. The community moved the way water moves around a stone. No tribunal, no dramatic exile. People simply became unavailable. Conversations ended when he entered them. The doors didn't slam. They simply stopped opening. And She had not campaigned, had not made calls, because women of genuine authority do not need to destroy you manually. They tell the truth once, to the people who matter, and the truth does the rest. He still tries. He appears at the edges of gatherings with the careful posture of someone who has rehearsed his normalcy, performing the shape of a man who has grown and arrived humbly at the gates of a second chance. Every experienced Domme in the room clocks it within minutes. The hollowness. The grasping. The unmistakable vibration of a man whose submission is a strategy rather than a truth. They decline, one after another, sometimes without a word, sometimes with a look that says they know exactly what they are looking at. This is Her work, and She isn't even trying. The contract still exists. She has it. Every line he failed, every clause he desecrated, every promise subsequently dismantled brick by brick. It is not a document anymore. It is an accounting, and it will follow him into every room he tries to enter, every connection he tries to build, every carefully managed first impression, until he has repaid what he owes in full. Everything must be returned to Her as was originally decreed for the poison to ebb. To the world he dirtied by what he did to Her, to the fidelity he shattered, the safety he violated, the home he poisoned : These things do not expire. They accrue interest. She is woven into the world he still wants access to. Her judgment lives in it. He cannot go anywhere She has not already been, cannot reach anyone She does not already know. She is not a chapter; She is the book, and he is a footnote in a hand everyone can see was shaking. She is not thinking of him. That is precisely the point. He is living inside the shape of Her absence, and it fits him like the life sentence it is.

Wrote this years ago. Thoughts ?  Do these four words make a perfect mantra ?  A good Submissive is " Consistent , Eager, Obedient, and Devoted. 

Oiled up.  Shortly after I came to Texas I got oiled up before I scened.  I'd grab some Hawaiian Tropic or Banana Boat and take it to the dungeon with us. I did this suspended whipping scene once where I was oiled up before the scene.  This was a really nice dungeon in Oklahoma City.  Afterward, we went to the lounge area to chill for a bit.  "Why do you use the oil?" this femsub asked me. In the back of the room, this male dom said, "it makes it easier to take the whip!" WRONG. Haha. The oil is to make me look sexier!  My Domme loved to slowly massage oil all over my body while I was tied up. This was for her. We had to stop doing it because people started to complain about the smell. It didn't matter that we used bleach solution to wipe everything down. So we stopped. We were at one of our favorite dungeons doing a rack scene. They had a long wooden one with a roller on one end. So we're doing our thing and I'm lying there on my back all stretched out getting into sub space. My Domme pauses and steps away for a few seconds. I'm not wearing my contacts so I can't see anything but the ceiling. And I hear, "Yes that would be nice." Interrupting a scene in progress without permission is a big no no. You can get kicked out for that. But this was different. Next thing I know is I'm being oiled up while I'm stretched on the rack. If I wasn't in subspace before I'm surely going there now.  Here's what happened.  The dungeon owner, a tall slim 40ish brunette who works in law enforcement, saw us doing a rack scene. She owned that rack but nobody ever stretched someone on it.  Most used it like a bondage table. So when we used it she loved watching us play. So she was watching us that night and thought to herself, she (me) would look so much better if she was oiled up. So during our scene she waved at my domme and once she got her attention, told her that. She heard the story about why we stopped and she suggested a solution.  Mineral oil.  It's water soluable and has no smell. Problem solved.  So now when I do a scene, I'm getting oiled up. Whoever is topping me gets to rub warm oil all over my tits, belly, arms, legs and butt. I like it when its slow.  Shout out to that dungeon owner. Thank you. 

Stand here.  Nice and still. Nice and straight. Just listen to my voice and do everything I tell you to do. Good girl.  Don’t move.  Don’t make a sound. Put your hands behind your back. Don’t resist the rope.  Just relax and let the rope do its work.   Be still while I put the collar on your neck. Head up.  Let me move your hair out of the way.  Good girl. Now the blindfold.  Don’t move. Be still. Now I attach the lead to the collar. As I pull on the lead you follow.  Walk slowly wherever I lead you.   Now I control you.  Listen to my voice. Do everything I tell you to do. Don’t resist my touch or direction in any way. Be totally obedient and compliant. Don’t think.  Just do everything I tell you to do. Good girl.

Being friends with an ex is only a good idea if you have zero feelings left for them. Logically, I know this. I was reminded for the twenty eleventh time that men are simple creatures. When they want something, they do something about it. No action, no option. Logically, we don't fit together, we just really wanted to. I have a hard time separating the fact that he is a good and decent person from that. Maybe its the idea of letting a good one get away. Maybe that's why he holds on, too.  You know what I miss? Banter. Long talks about nothing just enjoying each other's company. Laughing. Texts about simple things. We never had that. I will call a truce on my hated of French for a brief moment to emphasize a feeling. In French you do not say I miss you. You say, you are missing from me. That slow and easy connection is missing from me. I feel all the little pockets of empty where it should reside and spill into, like gravy. It's relationship gravy, and I need it like I need air.  End of truce. 

Hello prospective submissive, I'm glad my post caught your eye, I've been looking for my pet slave for quite some time now, and I do hope you are going to be the one to fulfill both of our desires. But first, let me tell you a bit about what I'm truly looking for:I search for a submissive that, from the bottom of her heart, desires a relationship with her dom, her owner. This dynamic, and relationship, would be built upon a foundation of transparant communications, triplicate (physical, mental, and emotional) care, and proven mutual trust. Within this, I expect that my word and intentions are the law by which the submissive is beheld to, for her to surrender, both her control and her worries, completely to me, for I shall be the one to lead and to guide her. I do not mind to start off with long distance, but when the time comes, I would expect for her to be with me, and I have the means to ensure this happens, be it relocation assistance or otherwise.She should expect to have protocols be taught and enforced, be able to execute my instructions in a timely and satisfactory manner, assume basic household duties, engage in pet-play or pet-play adjacent activities, and eagerly look forward to affection in all its forms. Shared hobbies, especially nerdy ones, and deep conversations of whatever topics that graces the mind will be part and parcel for the healthy maintanence of the relationship.Do not mistake my kindness for a lack of structure or lack of the darker side of play, I am more than capable of providing affectionate cruelty with humiliating remarks, sadistic orders, and physical discipline. Ultimately, the shape of the dynamic-relationship will be influenced by the experiences we both share. If any of this resonated with you, and you are someone that places her owner first, I invite you to reach out. I want to learn more about you, and there is no substitute for communication.Do you think you would be the one to catch my eye? I look forward to finding out,Your future master

Really wish this site would let know if people blocked before trying to send them messages. Its like nobody is even here but they will just block you anyways.  Clearly they will be alone as they are always finding a reason before even talking to somebody to block. Those types are why on-line or life is something people are unable to live properly. Back when started on 300 baud it was like nobody could hide their comments or from others. Realize that failed in life so its just wasting time to be here or in this world.  Doms just want somebody to take care of them financially while they will list a bunch of lies otherwise.  Instead of finding what is needed or who would benefit as are unable to do things in life.  They want the Fairy Tale of the Rich dude or so without them having to work or spend their own money.  Others will have problems with Cocaine or Alcohol which creates issues as they can't even control their own self much less others. Many don't have the most money or are unable to keep a stable job. So there those who depend on the subs to keep the money flowing. Read about how can change the font size in a message but they don't allow to set the sizes how want.  Wish lived a life where got married or had kids at like 20. Then they would already be out of College or owning their own homes.  Nobody ever liked me in the RL.  Nothing has really changed even in school would not belong or have people teasing me how talked or so. Though by HS everybody knew me to point nobody would really bother me after this gang jumped me.  So called friends didn't help me then so its telling of reality.  Interesting who helps or will try when don't even know them really heh.  Site used to be really good but now can't even punctuate.  Trash just blocks so its like why even bother.  Nearly impossible to trade information to see in RL.  Used to have High Scores in Space Invaders or other games which could play for hours.

You want to be a Sub/Slave/Sissy/Pet/etc..? Then you need to bring something of worth to the table too. First of all, we're NOT here to support you! You better have a job & be capable of supporting yourself. And we're not here to get you your hormones, implants, electrolysis, clothes, wigs, shoes, makeup, breastforms, nails, or sex toys either. If I want dependents, I'll go start a family!! Unrealistic lifestyle expectations is another HUGE turn-off for Me. "I want to be kept in nothing but panties & a bra 24/7." Yeah, right! That's nothing but wank-fodder.

Things are ramping up and a little closer we crawl tug tug of that net for one and for all... ******************** Found out Mum has moderate sleep apnea.  40% of alz patients do.  funny thing about amolyoid protiens, seems they only break down during REM.  No sleep, No REM. No REM. No Brain.  70% O2 levels = BRAIN DAMAGE. Seems to Me mandatory health screening for sleep/breathing/bmi disorders need be the call of the day, especially in terms of a dementia diagnosis! Also... What in blazing hell is with ER's with no TV for DEMENTIA PATIENTS!?!   DEMENTIA:  1 HOUR = 1 DAY; 1 DAY = 1 WEEK. 1 WEEK - 1 MONTH 1 MONTH - 3 MONTHS Imagine being denied TV or computer or anytihng which gave you sanity for an entire week in the hospital!  How stable, or rational, or healthy are you? Its barbaric and borderline abusive.  Specialists are needed in the ER, just like for a child, and in terms of dementia for ordering food, diet, entertainment.  To expect a comprimised, handicap person to "entertain" theirselves or to be mature enough to handle the ER is a fail for society. ***************** Best wishes   

6/13/2024   I am Wordy... Flirty... a little bit... Dirty. Even so... sending me a message does not guarantee a reply. Some may think that is rude. There are just only a certain number of hours in a day and I am not on here much. MPH

An ode to Jewels Tavern( Decatur Street-The French Quarter, New Orleans, Lousiana )Mardi Gras is March 1, in 2022.I had explored every bar in the French Quarter, except, JEWELS TAVERN. This was 1980, pre-AIDs, Mardi Gras morning about 5AM the French Quarter is a mini Las Vegas but trashier.  I was partying like a rock star at the Parade Disco, Playboy Magazine ranking the Parade Disco one of the top 10 Dance bars in the United States.  I was with my gay friends, I loved these guys they always set me up with their fag-hag female friends.  As I said, I was pretty *ucked up from drinking for the last 4 days almost non-stop.....  If you've been to Mardi Gras you get it......its the WILDEST CRAZIEST ADULT Halloween STREET PARTY maybe on Earth!  Its the United States version of Carnival in Brazil.  I got my courage up and asked Steve if he would take me to Jewels (Tavern).  I was pretty drunk but not crazy, I wasn't going into Jewels alone on Mardi Gras day, the wildest day of the year in New Orleans for my first visit to Jewels alone.  Steve had just gotten out of the Marines and was about 6 foot and of course buff, I wasn't going into Jewels without an escort! Jewels was known all across gay America for there FULLMOON Parties.  Every full moon no matter what day of the week the bar had one perverted anything goes hedonistic party in the bar.  There are stories the second floor Pool Tables at Jewels had tarps thrown over the pool tabless ay fullmoon parties and Crisco would cover every inch of those tarps by morning.  Jewels in the French Quarter was our rough trade bar of the likes seen in the movie CRUSING (1980) staring Al Pachino, this kind of bar.  (( I'm always amazed Al Pachino appearred in Crusing ) ) Jewels didn't disappoint it was everything I thought and more.  The enterance to the bar was 2 swinging bar saloon doors. I had passed  those door many times going  to Morning Call for hot beignets and coffee  always respectful of Jewels reputation.  Steve went into Jewels first and I wasn't more than 1 foot inside that I saw naked bodies and various forms of sex.  Steve was a regular so after a few minutes I was on my own but I had gone inside for my first time.   What I want to share is I had an epiphany on Mardi Gras Day 1980.   I had been in Jewels about 10 minutes and I had to pee.  The bathroom was in the very back right of the bar.  I went into the bathroom and looked around and there wasn't a urinal, there was a small cubical that had a toilet but NO URINAL.  There was instead a 4 claw old fashion bathtub with a naked guy inside.  I realized the bathtub was the urinal.  I pulled my dick out and let loose a long piss directly onto the naked guy in the bathtub/urinal.  The epiphany was the GLOW, SMILE, PLEASURE, that radiated from the guy, I just pissed on.  He looked at me with complete happiness I have never seem such total happiness before.  He grabbed a roll of theater tickets ripped of a bunch and told me that they were good for free beers at the bar and to hurry on back. I was a changed man since that experience.  I learned if you enjoy it and it doesn't hurt others do it.  Enjoy it what ever it is for you, don't question why, embrace these moments and experiences when you live out your fantasies into reality that is true fulfillment.  You only live once. FOOTNOTE    I got another cool story about Jewels that involved a,   Female to Male Crossdreser.  This women when dressed as a man, looked more butch, than most of the guys in any bar. FOOTNOTE  The House of the Rising Sun referenced in the Animals song is in the French Quarter and I got another interesting experience to tell about that place .....ITS TRUE ITS the RUIN OF MANY A POOR BOY, I KNOW I'm One. Sir Hugo Atlanta   (Formerly known as Sir Hugo of New Orleans)   

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

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

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

Stop looking for women to do some specific sex act to you. Women in general prefer to have sex with their lovers. Not some random guy who just wants to experience pegging. Want to get pegged? Socialize and be active in kink communities, make friends of all kinds, network, until you find a woman you like who likes you back and enjoys pegging her lover, and grow a relationship that includes sex and pegging. Or find a reputable pro who provides pegging as a service and pay her.

Alright......look... if I get a DM asking me to go to Google chat OR any other chat program BEFORE we get to know each other a LITTLE bit THAT is NOT going to happen. Much like that "take off your clothes" and/or "what  are you wearing"    Yes I want and NEED to find a Master OR Mistress and YES that this web page has been reckoned to Mos eisley spaceport, and I understand people have been hurt from their interactions. However:   *I* know that *I* am worth it, I'm worth the time AND effort that is required to claim me, this isn't going to be easy and IF it was then wouldn't you be more concerned? Perhaps, JUST perhaps the reason people get those type of people that are NOT "real" is because of the DM's that they receive? Take it for what it is...   SO the pictures of me ARE me.....the  text I wite (with spelling errors) ARE mine. i'm asking for you, to look deeper, take a chance to nuture a relationship with me,THAT is what will form a unbreakable bond, NOT "what are you wearing".....   With Love,   hope     

"life is full of endings that you never know are coming until they already pass"I wrote that quote in high school. Some of us learn and grow and im grateful that many things have been learned. Some answers will never be known for sure from my journey here in this lifetime. A new chapter is starting and perhaps the last chapter . Today i finally got to start moving things to a new home . A home that I feel will be my last but things are never certain and I have learned you have to live in the moment and ride each wave. I feel the shift of energy in the earth but I also know that things must shift so they can heal and balance. My Master Mate and Husband and I have been through many things in these last three years. We have grown and we intend to keep growing together. I have learned about the light and the dark. I have learned about walking paths. I have learned about consequences for actions. I have learned about addiction . I have learned what vanilla mindsets are like and how many of those could just things that are spiritual and misunderstood. I have definitely learned and experienced Dominance and submission through mind body soul spirit and energy. We cant protect people from all pain all we can do is try to guide but some lessons must always be learned by the being. It feels good to write, its been awhile since I sat down and let words flow. There is always new beginnings