Spot The difference Mark had a secret, one he kept even from himself most days. Tucked away in a encrypted folder on his laptop, labeled "Tax Records 2018," was a collection of stories. They were all variations on the same theme: powerful, confident women taking lovers while their husbands watched from the shadows, sometimes in anguish, sometimes in ecstasy. For Mark, these were a potent escape. In his mundane life—as a mid-level accountant, as a husband to the lovely but predictable Sarah—he was anything but powerless. He managed their finances, he decided on home repairs, he was, in every measurable way, the man of the house.   The fantasies were a complete inversion. They were a safe, controlled way to experience the loss of control. The humiliation in the stories was a curated spice, a theatrical performance of vulnerability that held no real-world consequences. He'd read them late at night, the glow of the screen illuminating his face, the scenarios playing out in his mind as a form of psychological release. He imagined the mix of jealousy and arousal, the complicated knot of emotions that made the fantasy so compelling. He even toyed with the idea of bringing it up to Sarah, but the words always caught in his throat. How could he possibly explain wanting to feel small and insignificant to the woman who relied on him to be anything but?   The fantasy was a perfect, self-contained jewel. The reality was a shattered mess.   It started with a shift in Sarah's behavior. A new, almost furtive energy. She started wearing perfume to work, which she hadn't done in years. She became protective of her phone, turning it screen-down on the counter. Mark, armed with the "knowledge" from his stories, told himself he was being paranoid. This wasn't like the neat narratives he read. There were no knowing glances, no whispered confessions. This was just… weirdness.   The confirmation came not through a dramatic confrontation, but through mundane technology. He was syncing their family photos to the cloud and her phone's camera roll automatically backed up as well. There, amongst pictures of their dog and a recent work event, was a short video. He tapped it, expecting a clip of a friend's birthday.   It was Sarah, on a hotel bed he didn't recognize, her head thrown back in a laugh he hadn't heard in years. And there was a man's arm, a tattoo of a coiled snake on its forearm, wrapped around her. The sound was off, but he didn't need it. The intimacy in the frame was a physical blow.   In his stories, the moment of discovery was the climax. The husband would feel a jolt of electric humiliation, his stomach would clench with a painful, illicit thrill. He would be aroused despite himself, his body betraying his mind as he watched the scene unfold.   Mark felt none of that.   He felt a cold, sickening hollerness in his gut. His hands started shaking so violently he dropped his phone. The screen cracked, spiderwebbing over the image of his wife and the snake-tattooed arm. He didn't feel a perverse thrill. He felt like he was going to throw up. The air in the room became thick and hard to breathe. This wasn't a carefully constructed narrative of power exchange; this was a raw, ugly betrayal.   The fantasy had always been about *him*. His reaction, his journey, his complex feelings. The wife was a catalyst, a powerful figure in his psychodrama. But this reality wasn't about him at all. It was about Sarah and her secrets. He wasn't an audience member in a consensual performance; he was the fool who hadn't even known he was off-stage.   When Sarah came home, she saw his face. She saw the phone on the floor. The story tumbled out, messy and tearful. It wasn't about power or dynamics; it was about loneliness and feeling invisible and a stupid, drunken mistake at a conference.   As she spoke, all Mark could think about were the stories. The clean lines of the text, the articulate descriptions of agony and desire. They were a lie. They were pornography, not reality. They had romanticized a pain that was, in truth, just jagged and brutal. There was no arousal in his devastation, no liberation in his humiliation. There was only the crushing weight of a broken trust, a thousand times heavier and more real than the paper-thin fantasies he'd used to distract himself from the very real possibility of such a pain. He had wanted to play with fire in a controlled environment, only to discover that in the real world, you just get burned.

Happiness always looks small while you hold it in your hands, but let it go, and you learn at once how big and precious it is.   Every man needs a good woman in his life. Even if she is just his friend. A good woman adds value to a mans life, no matter what capacity she serves.   

Seller accepted everything I wanted.. Down to the last details. In underwriting and waiting for a closing date. This limbo has been emotionally draining. I have clients who are sticking by me, wondering if they have one more appt. , or am I leaving. It seems it will be soon, just don't know when.   I have all sorts of emotions.  I'm feeling  so ambivalent  and anxious. I'm stepping so far out of my comfort zone.  I will know noone, will have to learn a whole new area. Grow a circle of new friends, find doctors, dentists, car maintenance, vet, etc etc. I will be setting a cottage for my dad, finding a caretaker for the weekends, and setting up braille lessons for him. There will be much to do, packing, loading moving, unloading unpacking, arranging. On top of this , I'll be going into growing season, which means I will have a lawn on top of landscaping and gardening !  What was I thinking? I'm not 30 😆 I'm  going to miss many of my clients,  they have become special to me.  My friends  too ! The comfort of familiarity and confidence in my knowledge of my area.  I'm a native to my part of the state. I will not miss the politics of the DC area. I've watched it become so contentious and intolerant. I'm so sick of the constant drum beat of pernicious propaganda.             

O/our marriage ceremony has finally taken place - my adored Wife & Mistress has solemnly sealed Her Female Domination (: She has granted my humble request and taken possession of me as her devoted property. She accepted me plighting my irrevocable troth to submit myself unconditionally to Her will and wishes and to be at Her service at all times. In a ritual inspired by the “Cybelian Marriage”, She has affirmed Her vision for O/our relationship, how She wants to use and arrogate Her devoted property in the future and how She wants to be lacking for nothing.i have to report on the ceremony and the new dynamic that has entered O/our relationship here in the coming months and have to be available for Your feedback and answers.my adored Wife & Mistress sends her warmest regards to A/all those who live Female Domination and those who are subordinate to her! U/unsere Ehezeremonie hat endlich stattgefunden - meine angebetete Ehefrau & Mistress hat Ihre weibliche Herrschaft feierlich besiegelt (: Sie hat meiner demütigen Bitte stattgegeben und mich als Ihr ergebenes eigentum in Besitz genommen. Sie hat mir das unwiderrufliche Gelübde abgenommen, mich Ihrem Willen und Ihren Wünschen bedingungslos unterzuordnen und Ihr jederzeit treu zu Diensten zu sein. Sie hat in einem von der "Cybelian Marriage" inspirierten Ritual Ihre Vorstellungen an U/unsere Beziehung bekräftigt, wie Sie Ihr ergebenes eigentum künftig nutzen und benutzen und es sich an nichts fehlen lassen will.Über die Zeremonie und die neue Dynamik, die in U/unsere Beziehung Einzug gehalten hat, habe ich hier in den nächsten Monaten zu berichten und für Reaktionen und Fragen zur Verfügung zu stehen.meine angebetete Ehefrau & Mistress lässt alle, die weibliche Herrschaft leben und alle, die ihr untergeordnet sind herzlich Grüßen!  

Polite heads up to anyone I engage with. I am a real person, with real honest values, with a real job in the public sector. I hop on in the middle of the night but during work time frame you will never see me on here. I actually enjoy serving the community but my goal was to find like minded individuals to have an open relationship. Open to me means we are single and not married and freely respecting our bodies and choices (can't be done when your married your disrespecting your wife and kids, you got problems at home pay for your wifes gym membership and have that honest chat to turn things around don't come to me). I don't entertain time wasters. I do expect the men I engage with to be employed, be in good job, be generous. No I am not trying to con you, nor get your bank balance, I am not entertaining another bad experience where I discover on multiple dates I am the only one paying the bill and a 5 day date cost me £400 because the other person was a cheapskate. I am independent, I am generous but I am no longer entertaining time wasters. Other than that have a nice day.   C

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

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

Columbus has been feeling… quiet lately. Not in the peaceful sense—more like the kind of silence that comes when there’s a lack of presence. A lack of structure. A lack of men who understand what it means to offer themselves with intention. I’ve been observing more than engaging, and what I see is a pattern—too many who talk about submission, very few who live it with consistency, discretion, and discipline. That’s where my attention has been shifting. I’ve been considering creating something more… curated. A private space designed for those who understand devotion beyond surface-level interaction. Not performative. Not chaotic. Structured, intentional, and centered around real standards. Access would not be given lightly. If you’re the kind of man who needs constant attention, reassurance, or direction just to function—you won’t last. But if you’re composed, self-managed, and understand that true submission is proven in silence just as much as in service… then perhaps you’ll find yourself exactly where you belong. Columbus may be quiet—but I won’t be for long. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

Male wives, sissification, forced bi, and forced fem (from Fet) This is a long overdue update to a previous post. It felt kind of vague when I first wrote it 6 years ago, but with new insight, I'm going to attempt a bit of clarification. Why am I looking for a male wife? I only experience initial primary sexual attraction to a very narrow subset of people (thanks, demisexuality). It shortens the extremely lengthy process of friendship and emotional compatibility leading to sexual attraction. To me, a male wife is more of a genderfluid, androgynous, or crossdressing AMAB who doesn't rigidly adhere to stereotypical gender roles in real life. Some buzzwords may include metrosexual or femboy. He finds enjoyment and comfort in incorporating stereotypically feminine roles, attitudes, and attire, just as I do on the masculine side of things. He craves the freedom that comes with true gender equality on all fronts. I think I have more in common with heteroflexible, bi, or pan guys (I, too, like men), but I'm definitely not turning away straight guys with a healthy mindset lol Anyway, he's generally also more confident in himself and open-minded in regards to exploring gender identity and sexuality in kink as well. If not, he's actively working on eliminating misogyny, misandry, or elements of toxic masculinity that may be causing him to struggle in his life. There's no sissification, forced feminization, or forced bisexuality. If this is you, contact me :) Why is sissification a hard no for me? Unfortunately, there's an element of misogyny and mockery of women related to sissification. Before you say "not all sissies", please keep in mind that your counterparts are badly misrepresenting you. Personally, sissification gives me old-school minstrel vibes. A select few minstrels put on blackface and made a point to use it positively to honor and represent black people in a way that most white audiences had never experienced. Unfortunately, it was overwhelmingly used by white men to mock with offensive caricatures and harmful stereotypes for the pleasure of themselves and their audience. Think hard about why sissification is so prevalent in a subset of domination that's supposed to be woman-positive. It concerns me because your extremely loud counterparts seek a dominant woman, yet appear to believe that being a woman is somehow inferior. Are they honoring women by honestly representing us, or are they using it as a way to mock us with caricatures of ourselves and harmful stereotypes? Are they using that internalized misogyny to fuel their humiliation kink and to entertain their audience so they can all get off to it? (and before you come after me, I'm both black and a woman - so yes, I can make these comparisons and they are definitely fair) When I see so many people who identify as sissies looking like they just stumbled home after drinking heavily and puking in the bushes at a frat party, it's disheartening. The makeup is clownish and smeared, the outfit is hideous, the wig is terrible and crooked...it's just a mess, and it truly hurts to see ourselves represented this way. It's humiliating to us and to them, and I understand that humiliation may be their kink, but their future dominant may not want to see someone dressed as a caricature of themselves. This is likely why sissification doesn't sit well with the majority of lifestyle dominants, and they may not be able to explain it past a basic "ew, no thanks." Why are forced feminization and forced bisexuality a hard no for me? There's misandry and aspects of toxic masculinity related to forced feminization and forced bisexuality. There's rarely any true "force" involved. Instead, there's a great deal of transferring emotional responsibility to the dominant to avoid feeling guilt for enjoying something they feel societal pressure to dislike because it's not considered "manly." I am completely uninterested in incels, alphas, or whatever ultra-toxic pick-up artist crap is going on out there. 2017 version of this post, titled "Comparison: Male Wife vs. Male Partner in FLR" To me, a male wife is more of a genderfluid or androgynous man who doesn't adhere to masculine stereotypes and has no issue with it. There's no need to feminize him as he's already naturally more feminine in mindset and/or body than society prefers. When in womenswear, he prefers looking as natural as possible and eschews excessively frilly "sissy" wear. He doesn't call himself a sissy, either, as the term has a negative connotation for me of "femininity deserves humiliation and mockery." He's generally also more confident in himself and open-minded in regards to exploring gender identity and sexuality in kink. In summary, if I tell this man he looks beautiful in a dress, he'd accept it as the compliment I intended. If this is you, send me a message. On the other hand, a male partner is more stereotypically masculine and more reticent to explore gender identity and sexuality in kink without being "forced" to, e.g. forced bi, forced feminization, forced sissification. There's a great deal of transferring responsibility to the dominant to avoid feeling guilt for enjoying something they feel societal pressure to dislike because it's not considered "manly." It concerns me because they want a dominant woman, yet they believe being womanly is somehow inferior. In summary, if I tell this man he looks beautiful in a dress, he takes it as an insult or believes that I'm trying to humiliate him - which will either turn him on or repulse him. I'm not interested in this guy.

Building a Shared Language Have you ever thought about the inherently flawed nature of language? What is the purpose of language? At the most basic level language is the attempt to take what is in my mind and communicate it to your mind. Much like the phone game this process is always going to be extremely imprecise. Words are concepts. I'm going to take a string of concepts as I understand them add modifiers and conditionals and then you are going to interpret those based upon your understanding of those concepts and modifiers. Take even the simplest of words. If I say a "tree", basically everyone understands essentially what I mean but not exactly. There are many different kinds of trees, they look very different from each other, they have different characteristics and quirks, different kinds grow in different areas of the world. I'm am in a more rural environment than say NYC is. Something tells me my relationship to the word "tree" is going to be much different from someone who grew up in an urban area. My mind makes different connections and ties different emotions, I'll picture something slightly different than every single person who hears me use the word. That's just for a relatively objective word like tree. What happens when we start getting into more esoteric concepts. Submission, wow talk about a word that can have so many meanings, so many different emotions and thoughts around it. The internet has been great in so many ways but it has also created a sort of collective consciousness, many words have been loaded up with toxic baggage. I like to talk about breaking a sub, but I don't mean it in the way you keep hearing it, the way the last 20 toxic people have used it.

 MissDAR