For my birthday trip, I reached out to a few people a week before my flight to the East Coast.  One here, an admirer: I dropped him a line asking if he wanted to meet for coffee. The records show that he read my message, but he never replied.  On another site, I followed up on a post from someone offering massages. There was no way to message the person directly, but the site indicates that there's a response to a post when you log on. He logged on since I posted my comment, and I heard nothing before I boarded my plane.  I actually saw his reply after I got back: he finally reached out when I was away. However, by the tie I landed and got settled, activities started and I didn't bother checking these sites. He requested a raincheck for my return. I told him sure, if I remembered.  "Oh, if only you weren't so far away ..." my aunt fanny.

At the beginning of a relationship I try to keep surprises to a minimum. So I’ve written a short description of how I would spank the first time I did so. I do not spank really hard as the pleasure is over far too soon. I spank firmly and slowly. I call it a ‘Cumulative Dozen’. The first time you will have dressed as I instruct and will stand whilst I tell you why you are being spanked, it might just be for the pure enjoyment of doing so. You will bend over the back of a chair and I will lift your skirt, if needed I will hold you in place between my thigh and my left hand. The first spank will land on your far cheek, then one on your near cheek. I will then change sides and spank each cheek twice. Then change sides and spank each cheek three times, and so on until I decide to stop, or I’ve reached a dozen per side. Each cheek of your bottom could have received 78 spanks by this time. You will then be told to stand facing into the corner, holding your skirt above your waist and forbidden to touch your bottom. After a short wait you will bend over again, your panties will be removed, your legs parted and I will repeat the spanking. If you struggle you will be put over my knee and have your arm folded into the small of your back. By this time your bottom will be red and sore so the spanks will seem much harder than they actually are.  By the time a dozen is reached this time you will might want the spanking to stop. However if you have struggled too much, or clenched your bottom muscles too often I may decide to continue to 13, 14 or perhaps 15. One finished you will stand in the corner again, forbidden to touch your red bottom that you will keep on display until I tell you can move. If I have collared you the process will vary, if you would like to know how then just ask.

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

June 2, 2025 - Pennsylvania red came by today.       He has been here many times before, so he knew to come into the garage where he stripped in back of the garage and put his clothing in a plastic milk carton with a written sign that says “Worthless Pieces of Human flesh are to put their clothing here before entering.”   For the first time, I had placed wrist and ankle restraints in the clothing box before his arrival. I had no written instructions, I had not told him I was going to be doing it, it was a completely new thing for him to see. I knew he would understand what I wanted him to do. And, as expected, he came in naked WITH the restraints on. It was just another level of humiliation I was putting him through.   We went upstairs and I told him I needed a blow job. I laid back on my bed, and he got up all fours with his ass to my right. He knows from previous visits that I love to play with his ass with my fingers as he is sucking my cock. As he was sucking, I put a bit of lube on my fingers and shoved them in his ass. I started with one finger, but soon I was shoving three fingers into him. He started out super tight, but I was quickly loosening his hole.   I started spanking with my hand. Not only did I spank both of his butt cheeks, but I was concentrating smacking the actual crack of his ass. Something about smacking his HOLE is a real turn on. This went on for about 15 mins, including wrapping my leg around his neck pulling him down onto my cock until he was choking, holding him there until I though he was about to vomit.   When I knew his mouth, jaws and throat were on fire from the session, I told him to get up on all fours with his ass at the bottom of the bed. I started with my fingers and lots of lube. I removed my fingers and replaced them with a long bumpy toy. I pushed it deep in his ass hoping he took the time to clean out properly. I was not disappointed. I fucked him with the toy for a while as I played with my cock with my free hand. Occasionally I would pull and tug on his balls.   READ THE ENTIRE STORY AT HTTPS://SirKel.top?collarspace

I want a truly submissive, Female Supremacist who is acquiescent to their core and craves pampering a Beautiful and Dominant Goddess. I am bored of being approached by porn sick sex focused faux-subs who want to use Women to fulfill their kinks and "domestic shlubs". Cleaning My toilet is not an act of submission. Worshipping any sexual parts of my body is not an act of submission. Understanding your role as a male and sub in the order of My World is an act of submission. Begging to know how you can be of use, cater to Me and relieve Me of stress or woes is an act of submisoon. I am a dream Woman by all standards. I expect any sub who even attempts to approach Me to have a "how can i tangibly make Your day better, Goddess" attitude. Enough with the sex and domestic crazed bs. It's lazy, patronizing and patriarchal. The only sub I'll accept is one who hired a cleaning service to work while I'm enjoying a spa day that they arranged for Me. Afterward, they will prepare a delicious meal for Me, then I let out My pent up stress on them in a corporal manner, or have My feet massaged and kisssed...whatever mood stirs Me.

Greetings, I am a Dominant with over 22 years of experience.  I am also highly skilled with a very creative mind (wink).  I am single, no children, was married previously for 20 yrs.  Am now a semi-retired attorney, meaning that I work from home providing litigation support to other attorneys, so usually a lot of free time to play.  I am currently in Vegas, though I have only a couple of friends and no family here, so not much keeping me in this area.  I am free to relocate anywhere, but preferences would be FL as I resided there previously and have family there or TX.  I have a varied style of play, from the soft and sensual to the more intense and challenging.  I am not abusive nor am I a sadist, though I can be teasingly sadistic (smirk).  I am seeking a woman with a desire to please and either close to me, or seeking a long term relationship together.  Someone spiritual is a better fit for me, as I am as well.  Should there be an interest in knowing more about one another, then feel free to contact me, as I only reserve protocol for play time, and even then, in a limited manner.  

Recently I decided to start looking for a Dominant/partner(s). I am Ethically Non-Monogamous and happily so. I am sure, with that hitch, that finding the Dominant I am looking for will be challenging. This July, after getting therapy for 2 1/2 years, I woke up one morning wondering if I had gotten it "wrong." This wasn't for the lack of trying. I've attempted a power dynamic four different times. What if I was attempting to fit myself into a container created by stereotypical spiel of what a submissive is? The spiel is that you must have a 24/7 relationship to be happy. And there was a sure way to do power dynamics and a specific way not to do power dynamics. During my time of hiatus in relationships, I've explored a lot. I've developed a sweet co-parenting kinky caregiver arrangement with two individuals, a sadomasochism connection with a good friend, and an exploration of what makes me happy. This week while I have been lying in bed thinking about missing having someone hold me accountable for reading and writing book reports. I was part of this dynamic a while ago in a recent relationship. I came to love the expectation and being expected to do this, but the connection was riddled with potholes and unhealthy manipulation. The slave practice of this is what a friend describes as an Academic Power Slave. I'm going to need to unpack this more. I have already had someone reach out and ask me what I am looking for right now. I can say that I am not looking to "hook up" with someone to get a perceived need met and fulfilled quickly. What I am looking for, what I do know, is that I am looking for four things. I am looking for someone(s) who wants to have a committed relationship with me.  Who is looking for non-traditional services, like a concierge and specialized services. Who has their mental health and ducks in a row and puts continuous work on themselves. Who is comfortable and affirming non-monogamy.

One of the first things parents teach their toddlers is that 'I want, doesn't get'. We can't have everything in this world - and we certainly shouldn't expect things to fall into our laps just because we ask for them. But perhaps the point is more about the way that we ask. After all, if you don't ask for things, why would anyone give you anything? Of course, you have to prove yourself worthy. But it's important to be clear, so that other people are able to engage fully and clearly with our goals. On that note ,although we learn, when we're young, not to voice all our thoughts, I am  someone who's prepared to take risks when it comes to sharing ideas; I  don't suppress my feelings or opinions for the sake of polite pretence. I like being with people i  can be honest and open with.

I am glad that you understand it from a more personal level rather than just a bunch of words There are then to myriad branches that are the individual needs and wants from this life that include S M Pain is an interesting feeling The mind can not reproduce it or dream it or make it happen all over again It must always be reapplied And pain can be so forceful and powerful an agent to achieve a state you want to be in Some need pain in an attempt to satisfy some deep emotional need Some see pain as a necessary punishment Some see pain as a meaningful gift to the sadist Some see pain as a driver to orgasm greater than any pleasure Some need the after affects like the marks and bruise and show them off or feel them with their fingertips when alone remembering But pain drives and often drives harshly at pushing stressful feelings out of your being for a while As one woman said, it is so wonderful to have someone else do all the driving for a change Stress is every where in your life and often unseen or not noticed due to all the other fluff and distractions going on You wonder why you feel so bad It is often due to stress and yes you could smoke or drink or do drugs or go to a gangbang at a truckstop parking lot and find some relief All are painful in their own way ANd perhaps for a while the stress is removed But none answer the need to please another that is important to you so you should be like the little frog and look before you leap Your thoughts are indeed right on the money You do need to be owned and that is a mouthful of sweeping conditions Being loved and being cared for and kept safe and looked after and having emotional and physical needs satisfied are not always the same thing A slave is often not loved as a lover else she is just not a slave A slave can really deeply love her owner if that owner always answer her needs and controls her wild wants so she knows her place I can be strict and at times very abusive and I can read you the riot act and enforce it physically and emotionally until you learn where the lines in the road are and you stay in them But As an owner I would care for you as I would a loyal pet which is consistently trained and not kicked around just for hatreds sake So many people can care for a pet so much more deeply for years than they can for a person that does not know their place And the reason is simple Most pets will not challenge the authority that owns them and always submits to it because They need it And so do you

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.”

Women, dogs, and toys.  Women deserve to be treated like dogs and toys. Ok hear me out on this one before you light your torches and get your pitchforks.    So, think about this: is your dog abused? Is the dog of any man you'd choose abused? No...? Ok what about his Xbox? PlayStation? Wii? Any abuse there? No? Ok next point (keep reading).   Does his dog have a comfortable life? Does he go out of his way to get decent food, toys, a comfortable place to sleep?    If his gaming system ever has issues, is he quick to tend to it? Always buying it accessories and new things to play on it?    And are his dog or gaming system expected to buy anything on their own, or does he provide it all for them?   Lastly, how much time does he give to both? How involved is he on a daily basis with them?    If more Doms viewed their slaves as beloved pets and toys instead of a kinky partner, we would have far fewer abused, neglected, and used subs. If Dom's treated them like his dog or Xbox, there would be so many more happy, satisfied, and secure subs.

    Need me to rub your belly???? Feel the warmth of my lip and gentle flow of my breath As I softly kiss around your naval My breast slide over your penis. You feel the warmth of my breath It's hard and pulsating   I can feel it throbbing Tell me that you want me I stand and allow you to undress me I push you back on the bed Leaning over you, looking into your eyes, I place a kiss on your head So nice and hard I must taste Pulsating in my mouth Leaking a juice so sweet I crawl on the bed and pull you on top of me and tell you Put it inside me now!!! I am so aroused I cum quickly Working on my next explosion Grabbing you and pulling you deeper inside me I am taking every inch of you My breast are bouncing And you gentle hold them down as you suck pull and bite my nipples I tell you not to move I just want to feel myself grinding on you I cum again So nice and hot as it squirts all over us both I slap your ass and tell you fuck me hard We repo to a scissor position My knee bent to my face as you lean in for leverage I rub my clit as you are pounding my pussy I cum again I tell you to take your cock out and rub my juices around my pussy and ass I make you stand and I suck my juices off your cock and balls I play with your cock rubbing sucking and stroking. Massaging your balls, so very hard You moan and you want to grab my head and I tell you not to touch Edging you and then easing off I slow the licking and sucking down You have some much sweet juice just leaking I allow drops on my breast I rub the head over my nipples covering my breast with your juice I think shall I let you cum?   You say oh yes mistress plea

THE NIGHT I MET BRIAN, part 1   Towering over most people at 6'8" (in boots), he was hard to miss. Every time I looked at him, he was already staring at me. Due to circumstances at the time that I'd rather not get into, we'd nod an acknowledgement to one another, but never spoke. Tall, skinny, a bit on the younger side, he bordered on awkward, yet simultaneously confident. Our first real conversation happened online, on a BDSM board called Recon. I didn't realize I was chatting with him at first, though the height in his description made me wonder. He was polite when he contacted me. He used complete sentences and asked thoughtful questions. Once we traded photos, we both had a kind of "wow, it's you" moment. Then the conversation turned to what we were there for. Are you interested in doing a scene? What kind of scene? He told me he'd already had fantasies about tying me up and making me worship his (size 14!) boots. He certainly knew how to talk to me and keep my attention. He'd observed me several times observing his boots, a very astute observation for a 25yo. (Even moreso for someone his real age.) We discussed what we wanted in a scene, what we didn't want, as well as sexual fantasies, past experiences, things we'd like to try eventually, etc. We agreed on a scene that would involve bondage, humiliation and boot worship, but not sex. Although we were not averse to sex (and were very much sexually attracted to one another), we agreed that focusing on our mutual interests in S&M would be more than enough to satisfy us both. After some discussion and negotiation, I was ordered to show up at a designated address (later in the week, following more nodding and flirting and anticipation), wearing head to toe leather. Once admitted inside, I was to kneel submissively before him and let him take it from there. As when I saw him before, he was dressed in military fatigues and combat boots, which I would come to learn was his everyday look. He started off by admonishing me for being late. I wasn't late, but I also wasn't inclined to start off the scene arguing with him. He reached down and with a single finger, pulled the collar of my leather shirt away from my body, not-so-subtly surveying what would be his for the next few hours. He asked me a few innocuous questions while cuffing my hands behind my back. He made the cuffs tight enough to be unforgiving, but not so tight as to lose circulation. He picked up my backpack and asked if I'd brought everything we'd discussed. He dumped the contents on the floor and picked up the leather slave collar he told me to bring. He held it up to my neck and said, "I like it." He made the collar as tight as the cuffs, but not so tight that I couldn't breathe. He definitely knew what he was doing. Next came the blindfold, something we hadn't discussed. After a momentary freak-out, I decided not to protest. Aside from being against the rules, I really wanted to see (ha ha) where this was heading. He had given me a vague idea of what was in store, but left the details to my imagination. I'd entered his house through the back door, which was closer to the basement. Bound and blindfolded, I was led carefully down the 4 stairs to the awaiting basement where I'd spend the next few hours under his control. He sat me in a chair and proceeded to bind me, fully leathered, in layers of rope. Rope around my chest, around my legs just above the knees, rope around my ankles. Tight, restrictive and unforgiving. He knew how to tie a good knot, later revealing that he honed this skill during his time as a boy scout. ("Yes, I did learn something useful in the scouts!") What he did next was unnerving. He pulled up a chair and sat right in front of me, staring in silence. For the longest time, I could feel his eyes burning into me, but he said nothing. What was he doing? What was he thinking? Now that he had me all tied up and helpless, was he reconsidering? Time seemed to stretch on forever. Just how long had we been sitting there? I couldn't stand it, and finally spoke up."Sir?""SPEAK!""Sir? What can I do to please you, Sir?""YOU CAN SIT THERE AND SHUT THE FUCK UP!"Now, I've known since birth that I'm different. But I cannot describe how turned-on I was by being told so forcefully to shut up. I briefly considered apologizing for my transgression, but that wouldn't have been shutting the fuck up, now, would it?He continued to stare at me silently, then abruptly stood up and said, "I am very disappointed with what rung my doorbell. I'm going to let you sit here and think about that." I could hear him walk slowly up the stairs, turn off the basement light and slam the door shut, leaving me, leathered and bound and blindfolded, alone in the darkness. Left alone for what seemed like an hour (it was actually 20 minutes), my imagination ran wild. I could hear him walking back and forth upstairs, possibly to taunt me? At one point, I started to wonder if he'd forgotten about me. But then I could hear the distinctive sound of his boots hitting each step as he re-entered the basement. Each step made me hornier with anticipation than the last."Miss me?" he asked as he rubbed my leather-clad crotch, running his strong hands firmly up my chest, and then through my hair. He asked me a personal question, which I attempted to evade, until he grabbed my hair and jerked my head back. "Michael, when I ask you a question, you answer it, promptly and honestly. Do you understand?" "Yes, Sir!" Surprised to learn that despite all the rope, I wasn't actually tied to the chair, he lifted me out of the chair and gently set me face down, still blindfolded, on the concrete floor. After a brief pause, he ordered me to lick his boots. My cock lurched in my leather pants at the command, but no sooner than I laid my tongue on his boot, he pulled it away and walked to the other side of the room. "I'm over here, Michael," he taunted. Still fully-leathered and tightly-bound, I started to wriggle my body across the hard, unforgiving concrete floor, thankful for my leather padding, toward the sound of his voice. Moving was laborious and exhausting, but I eventually arrived at this awaiting boot. He moved a second time. I hesitated. "MY BOOTS AREN'T GOING TO LICK THEMSELVES, MICHAEL!" Right. So, I once again wriggled across the concrete floor in the general direction of his voice.He didn't move when I arrived at his boot for the third time. Humiliated and horny, I ran my tongue along his size 14 with greedy hunger, coating it in a thin layer of my saliva, only able to imagine the shine I hoped it left behind. I switched boots when he commanded, and having coated the foot portion in my saliva, was running my tongue up the boot shaft when I noticed that he'd started breathing heavily. Was he jacking off?  Had he abandoned our "no sex" agreement? As if reading my mind, he said in a clipped and mildly breathless manner, "I want to fuck you.""OK," I responded. "Do you want me to fuck you, Michael?""Yes. Yes, I do." I could feel my precum slickening the thong I wore under my leather pants.He pressed his size 14 between my shoulder blades. "You mean, 'Yes, Sir, I do.'""Yes, Sir, I do." I was about to fucking burst!"I need you to say, 'Yes, Sir, I want you to fuck me.'"I knew he was asking for consent. Although I would've enjoyed it either way, I was relieved that he asked for consent. This meant that he was not a psychopath."Yes, Sir, I want you to fuck me." Things hadn't gone exactly as planned, but flexibility is a crucial life skill.   continued

I'm actually sad to be back here on this site, after so many  years being happy with who I found and who was very loyal.  Unfortunitly he is no more and here I am.    This is time consumming as it is for  you as well.  So if I don't respond after I read your message it's because this search sometimes gets over whelming trying to figure out who is who  and what someone is looking for exactly EXACTLY.  For instance, if someone is just looking for weekend play,  or something along that line. Please do me a favor and don't even write. I'm sure there is probably someone else out there that wants that.   I have to say I do get a rise when I find someone I can connect to on a higher plane.  I like intelligent converstation but it is also time consumming and easier to move to phone eventually.   I'm not talking about someone with a high IQ and can memorize the encyclopedia .  I'm talking about someone that is beyond that and I can talk to about the meaning of life , so to speak.   Does my sub/slave need to be smart and have a college education ? No , some of the best people I know even dropped out of school and never finished.   With today's AI we can all be artist, writers, and seemingly a genious.  But with all that , there is something deeper. If you don't know what I'm talking about then you don't know. If you do understand then you do know.   If who comes to live here can't even read but knows how to have a great garden, knows how to use his hands.( even if he doesnt but is more than willing to learn) That is way more important to me than anything.   However is someone works online and doesn't know how to work with his hands. Then he could be useful as well and I don't rule that out.  I said all that to help you to have a better understanding what I'm looking for .  I hope not to be on here for several months but who knows.    The last person I found on here was about 8 years ago. We met on here talked for a couple weeks. He moved here and has been here ever since.   That's what happens when people are open and honest and do what they say they are going to do . 

  Anyone interested in sharing ideas, thoughts and experiences on self bondage, good, bad, or unusual.   i have little experience in area but intriguied

Yeah, I thought I would get back here sooner.. shit happens. Started getting all my medical stuff going this year.  Ugghhh. I am not looking for oral anything. My concerns this year involve going after the plastic surgeon who f'd up my reconstruction so severely it impacts the rest of my life and sue the f'er. I have to have what he did fixed. Firmly believe he shit on me because I am a medicaid patient. So, my focus is more personal health, at the same time, I have both art and print on demand stuff I am doing, my gardening is just picking up and getting busy at home, and I have an audio podcast I need to get going. On ssi at 560 a month sucks dirty dick. If you want to be submissive to me, you have to have something to offer in return, not necessarily money, but say vanilla services that help me. Otherwise, I am busy as fuck making the next 20 years of my life better.   As I usually find my relationships in person doing stuff, make it good to get my attention, or I won't waste my time. Approaching me about your needs is stupid. Lola the Iron Mistress

More and more, I'm seeing females talking about wanting to go back to a '50's household.  Usually, they are over 30, having failed to get the free ride our society says is owed them.  Typical.  Things are getting rough.  And instead of taking responsibility for their actions or in-actions, they want to "re-negotiate" and go back to a time where they can just stay home while their husband works 60+ hours to pay for everything, including a maid to come in and do all the cleaning, because she's above all that.  Which will allow them to complain about their husbands never being home to give them an excuse to cheat on them with the whomever.  And then divorce them, taking half plus alimony.  So no.  No man should even consider that.  You want a "50's" relationship?  Sure.  50 BC, Roman Republic time.  You want what we got, including protection from what's right around the corner according to most pundits right now?  Prove your worth to us.  I'm not negotiating. 

:'( :"""( :"( :""(  wish i had someone to be here care ease my pain a little comfort hold me something. so hurting down used cheated on lied to hurt never good enough so much bad in life and hurt

AcadaMay CFNM Party Dates For years women have been sexually objectified in magazines, on social media and in daily life. But what happens when the rôles are reversed, what happens when the tables are turned and men are objectified by women? 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!  If you wish to attend any of the events please do contact me here to be sent details about where to apply.  AcadaMay CFNM Ladies Tea Party When: Saturday 02 November Time: 4pm  AcadaMay CFNM Couples Tea Party When: Saturday 16th November Time: 4pm            

Have I been abused over my whole lifestyle experience?    I don't think I have, but it was brought to my attention that the reason I think the extreme harshness is normal is because to me it is. I get so confused when I'm asked questions or my opinions early on because from the 3 long term matters I had I didn't get that. It was instantly meeting and then I'm molded to what they desire without breaking my personality. a lot of it was in sex and pleasing them, being super respectful etc.    If my master gave me pleasure it was a reward, an honor, because it's not a given my pleasure.. His is a given. Always. So why am I so obsessed? I dunno..I honestly truly do not know why this is life is such a draw and a need for me when I know (I'm a smart cookie) that this isn't a nice relationship. I just know I crave it. The butterflies in my stomach, - when I'm given a command it almost ferments in my brain and when I complete the task it feels like a pressure is released.. Now I have the world poorest memory so I'm forgetful af, so I might forget the task if it's something that needs to be completed in the future lol   I don't think I was abused. I crave that intensity today and won't be happy if it's not a constant thing. My body moves on its own sometimes. I'm lippy. No I think it was good teachings and what I deserved at the time.    I met someone new. We talked for hours and next day met. It was all pretty fast. He said if it doesn't keep this pace ... I'm a runner...I'll leave and... He's right. I'm fucked up. I get in my head and I overthink everything and then I get headstrong and stubborn. I don't know if it's real.. Again it was mostly talking with some fun times and lots of correction and reframing my mind. It was fun yesterday. Was it enough? Is this what it's always gonna be like?    I dunno. I dunno.

“The Lesson in the Red Chair – Part II: Temperature Chains” T.L. Duncan He knelt perfectly still in front of the red chair, hands behind his back, shoulders trembling just enough for me to know he was alive inside the anticipation. Good. He should tremble. Temperature chains demand obedience. I stepped behind him and let the room settle into silence. A long silence. Long enough that he started to doubt what he’d feel first. Then I touched the back of his neck with warm oil. He inhaled sharply. The oil wasn’t hot—just body-warm. Comforting. Seductive. A touch that coaxed him into trust before breaking it. “My warmth first,” I murmured. I smoothed the oil over the top of his shoulders, slow strokes that lulled him into lowering his guard. His breath lengthened. His muscles softened. His head tilted forward in surrender. Good. Perfect, actually. Now I changed the temperature. The ice cube was newly unwrapped, frosty and dripping between my fingers. He didn’t hear it. He didn’t expect it. And that made it exquisite. I pressed it to the same spot I had just warmed. He jerked like a current ran through him—but he stayed kneeling. “Good boy,” I said quietly. The praise landed deep. I traced the ice down the line of his spine, a slow, cruel descent. He shuddered uncontrollably, head dropping forward, breath catching on every inch. Then I wiped the trail dry with a heated cloth—soft, warm, soothing. His whole body swayed, caught between two opposites with no ability to prepare for either. “That’s the point of temperature chains,” I whispered. “Your body stops guessing. It just reacts.” He exhaled a broken sound—half moan, half plea. I circled him, letting the warm cloth ghost over his chest, then replaced it with the ice again, pressing it to the hollow of his throat. He gasped and froze. “Don’t move,” I warned. He didn’t. He barely breathed. I let the ice melt in a slow path over his skin, then chased the trail with my warm palm. Cold. Warm. Cold. Warm. His head fell back against my thigh. “You’re unraveling beautifully,” I said, cupping the side of his face gently—warm palm, cold fingertips. He whimpered at the contrast. Now that he was soft and undone, the next sequence would hit harder. I dipped my fingers in the warm oil again, then traced a circle over his sternum. He relaxed. And just as the comfort settled— I lifted the chilled metal spoon. He didn’t see it. He didn’t hear it. He only felt the shock when it touched the same oiled spot. He choked on a moan. His hands flexed behind his back. His body bowed toward me. “Hold your position,” I commanded, voice velvet and steel at once. He froze, trembling uncontrollably now, his body shaking with a desperate cocktail of cold, warmth, need, and obedience. I moved the spoon lower, then chased it immediately with warmed fingertips. His breath stuttered. His knees nearly buckled. “Your body can’t predict me anymore,” I said softly into his ear. “That’s what surrender feels like.” He nodded, barely able to speak. “Good,” I whispered. “Because your final temperature test will break what’s left of your control.” I stepped away to prepare it—just out of his line of sight, just enough for the dread and desire to twist together. “Be still,” I said. “Lesson three begins now.” He was still kneeling, barely holding himself together. The temperature chains had wrecked his sense of predictability, and I could feel it in the shivers running through him. Now it was time to take the one thing he had left— his mind. I stepped behind him, deliberately quiet, until my thighs brushed the edge of his shoulders. He stiffened, waiting for the next sensation. But I gave him nothing. No touch. Just silence. Then I leaned down until my lips hovered a hair’s breadth from his ear. “Don’t look for my hands,” I whispered. “My voice is what owns you right now.” His breath hitched. Good. I let my breath warm the shell of his ear, slow and soft—not touching, just threatening the touch. He froze in place like prey that knows the predator is right behind it. “You feel that?” I murmured. “Yes… Ma’am…” “That’s not me touching you,” I said. “That’s me deciding you deserve to feel my breath.” He shuddered so hard his balance wavered. I slid one hand behind his neck—not gripping, just resting there, letting him know I could take hold at any moment—but my mouth stayed at his ear. “Your body reacts before you can think,” I whispered. “And that turns me on more than anything else.” He exhaled sharply, a small, helpless sound. I didn’t touch him yet. Instead, I let my lips barely graze the upper curve of his ear—so faint that he might have imagined it. A ghost of contact. A promise. He whimpered. Then I broke the almost-touch with a cold whisper: “Keep your hands behind your back.” “I— I am, Ma’am…” “Good. Because if you lift one finger to steady yourself, this ends.” His spine straightened in panic and obedience at the same time. Now he was mine. I brought my mouth closer, slow and controlled, until the tip of my nose brushed the soft edge of his jaw. “Do you know what I want right now?” I whispered. “No, Ma’am…”

 angeldmort