So about 13 years ago, I was in club pedestal in London, it was nearing the end of the night, is been my usual shy self and not spoken to anyone. So then I saw this amazing looking woman, dressed in a green dress, with some beautiful flowers painted on one face cheek.  So what did I do?  That's right, I stood up, walked right across the dance floor and introduced myself to her.  Not long after we were meeting regularly and we embarked on a year long experiment in Domme, slave dynamic. We both learned many things. Eventually it ended, we became the best of friends and still are today. She's now a professional Domme and is damn good at it too!   Why am I telling you this? Well there are new people out there, who don't know what to say to a dominant or how to act, it's easy, they're people just like you, tray them like a person, be yourself, unless you're a cunt!  Most submissives and dominants just want to be talked to like humans. BTW I'm on fetlife if anyone wants to make friends? Same user name.

Another day, another copied and pasted message from a fake sub. This is the not uncommon "repeat offender" who tells me how much he enjoyed my profile, and how he really REALLY wants to find a Domme for whom he will do this, that and the other thing.He makes a point of saying that he is sincere, hard working, etc. And it's literally the exact same message word for word that he's sent me twice before, starting in 2022. I've replied in the past. I pointed out the first time that he failed to read any of the profile that he says he enjoyed. Then I told him it was insulting to get the same message over and over because he is basically saying he can't be bothered to remember who he's already written. And now, I've just reported him as spam and blocked him. If I lower my standards to try to find ANYONE remotely acceptable, I end up with what I had a couple years ago - someone who comes to stay a week to "help with my house" but spends all their time smoking pot, watching youtube, and generally having a vacation without ever trying to do anything useful, and having a panic fit when I finally ask them to turn off the tv.  This is where the bar is, guys.  This is why you aren't getting kink.  It's not a lack of Dommes. It's a total lack of effort to be more than the average lazy male couch potato, while expecting kinky sex from a hot chick. not a good look. YOU are the reason you are failing here.

Passions of a Ghost Young and energetic MD approaches a stretch of buildings in the Sin City of New Orleans. Risking it all knowing he is outside his perimeter for Max Travel Distance from his military post, but he is dying to know what this new world is about. It is his first party within the lifestyle community with wild fantasies, expectations and fears raging through his mind. Will he be enough? How will he compare? Will he be accepted in a world which rejaspects him for being different? Questions galore which make his palms sweat beyond control. He has a few contacts already within the dungeon having gone through their vetting process. Paperwork signed and face to face meetings had, all that is left is to walk in the door. As he watches the comings and goings he see's Doms, Domme's, subs and slaves walking through a well worn door. Finally pulling himself together he walks in nervously and pays his fee to enter. Around the corner the adventure begins. Furniture of all kinds are found along the walls and in the center of a well laid out dungeon. People are talking amongst themselves, others strung up to crosses for their night's enjoyment, and yet more are preparing for scenes of their own. The energies are immediately felt and a bubbling rise is felt in his chest. As the energies are taken in he comes to understand. He is home. In the coming years this shy little Dom was able to study under some very wise, creative, and often sadistic people of all walks of life. These early days was full of dungeon parties, munches, gatherings of all kinds. There was a code of ethics similar to the military which he knew so well. There was respect. There was courage. There was acceptance. Of course there was love as well. In this community which became my world D types were hard, sadistic, and pushed hard to bring to life the fullest of potential in themselves and their s types. At the same time they still had a heart. If anything they loved their partners far more than ever written in vanilla history. Traveling with the military I traveled the country, but found myself in a different world when he got out after 3 tours overseas. The community had changed. It had evolved into something grander in size, but with so many elements which eroded the values he once knew. He walked those dungeons looking for any resemblance of the community he knew but it was nowhere to be found. Talking with his mentor she couldnt help but laugh at him. He was ranting and raving about the changes which took away the life he knew so well. He was struggling to find his way. He was frustrated how noone held themselves to a standard which made this life so great. He was lost and alone. Even in training with his partners he found them continuously pulled towards this easy shiny way of the life instead of putting in the work and patience required to get to the same level and standard as he needed. His mentor laughed hearing it all before and feeling it herself. She had long since left the community. She felt the changes moreso having come in years before he. She ranted and raved, felt the same frustrations. She battered against those walls trying to bring back those values long before he even felt their demise. After he finally stopped confused by the laughter, her next sentence said it all. "Welcome to the Old Guard" It wasn't anything official or an earning of leathers. It wasn't anything to brag about or label myself as such. It was a pure statement which helped him understand in such a profound way what he had been missing. In all that time he had been looking up like a child letting others take the reigns of the community. He didn't see myself as a leader though having over 12 years in this life at that point. He didn't find himself worthy to take up that mantle yet. After those words were spoken the whole discussion changed from what was lost to how he can be the example for those which feel that absence as deeply as he did. His drive towards mentorship and teaching drove a fire in him which couldn't be extinguished. He stood side by side with those very same leaders he looked up to trying to be that beacon. He started simply teaching rope classes but this also gave him a way to interact with people new and old within the lifestyle. Discussing the issues. Being that rock and safe haven to guide the next generation away from trouble and into a path of greater development. It was a lonely road for nomatter how hard he tried, his equal in passion for this life was nowhere to be found. If anything his role as a teacher and mentor drove him further into isolation. Experience once valued was now seen as a deterrent for many. His age showing more and more became a wall he couldn't tear down. Eventually after personal experiences which nearly crushed his soul, betrayal by the very community he loved and served for so long, he walked away into the shadows. He still had his friends and made the occassional appearances but his heart was held heavy knowing the life he knew was but smokey memories of a long gone era. Now 23 years into this life he found himself down the same road as his mentor before him. Slowly fading away as a ghost of the past. Leathers faded and worn, toys dusty and bearing the years of use, wrinkles where there used to be none, and a sense of passion still burning in his heart he still hangs on to hope. Not for the return of a community once known, but for that one which knows that same level of passion as his own. That one to walk these roads well traveled but once more. That one who he can share his all.  

In the tapestry of relationships, polyamory stands out as a distinct weave, one that has graced my life in unexpected ways. Today, I sit back to reflect on my experiences in MfM and fMf dynamics and the deeply transformative impact they have had on me.   Poly relationships, particularly those involving MfM or fMf dynamics, are not merely about the number of partners but the depth of connection, understanding, and mutual respect. I've always felt a special allure towards such relationships. It's an intricate dance of balance, emotion, and trust.   James, my late husband, played an instrumental role in my introduction to this world. He wasn't just my husband; he was a guiding force, teaching me the beauty of unconditional love, free from societal shackles. The way he introduced me to the world of BDSM, and by extension, poly dynamics, was subtle, considerate, and built on a foundation of trust. It wasn't about sharing for sharing's sake, but about expanding our horizons, about understanding that love isn't finite, and that sharing doesn't diminish but rather amplifies affection.   I remember our first experience. The trust between James and me was the anchor, holding us steady amidst the tumultuous waves of uncertainty. He would often whisper affirmations in my ear, reminding me of my worth, my beauty, and my agency. "You are in control," he would say, even when introducing me to a new partner. This wasn't about him, or even about the new partner; it was about *us*, as a unit, exploring, learning, and growing.   In an fMf dynamic, there was a certain softness, a delicate touch. The presence of another woman introduced a different layer of intimacy. It was in these moments that I found a sisterly bond, a deep understanding, which went beyond the realms of physicality. On the other hand, the MfM dynamic provided a sense of security, of being cherished, surrounded by an aura of protection from both sides.   But why do I like it? It's the feeling of expansiveness, the sensation that my heart isn't confined to a singular beat but reverberates with multiple rhythms. James ensured that I never felt ified. It wasn't about mere physicality but an exploration of emotions, boundaries, and profound connections. The journey made me more comfortable in my skin, understanding and accepting my desires, and seeing them not as taboo but as natural extensions of my persona.   James always reminded me of my worth. His unwavering support ensured I never felt "less than" or "used." Each experience was a shared one, a journey that we undertook together. There were moments of doubt, of course, moments where societal conditioning would seep in, whispering words of judgment. But with James by my side, those whispers were quickly silenced. His belief in the beauty and authenticity of our choices bolstered my confidence.   In the end, poly dynamics taught me the multifaceted nature of love. They made me realize that love isn't a zero-sum game. One can love multiple people, in varied ways, without diminishing the love for any single individual. It's about expansion, about realizing the boundless capacity of the human heart.   In these relationships, I've learned more about myself than I ever imagined. They taught me resilience, understanding, and most importantly, self-acceptance. Through the layers of shared experiences, laughter, tears, and deep conversations, I found a version of myself that's unapologetic, bold, and incredibly comfortable in her skin.  

New year and new beginnings   After becoming active in March, it’s been a slow gradual progress getting back into the scene. I was weary at first due to the past weighing me down and the current situation I was in at the time. Reflecting back to where I was, to where I am now, I've come a long way and ebbing forward in becoming comfortable in my own skin and who I am.   It's been a massive change from no social life to meeting so many Brilliant kinky minded people, I find what was easy for me to interact with people with self-confidence was gone a long time ago, however big thank you to the people that have given me advice and self-belief,(even if I was kicking and screaming) to carry on and not to be discouraged about social situations or setbacks in the things that I do. So, a big thank you to all from me, for helping on my pervy journey.   What do I think back on 2023? Well, my plans and ambition has changed after moving and starting again. From dudgeon hire and Airbnb to just letting things come and go as they will, due to this I've gained so much freedom. Not being tied down finically and mentally that I'm now traveling a lot more than 15 years ago. Finding out and planning to attend old/new munches, clubs, workshops. Planning ahead for meets with people that I met along the way. Working on play Scenes and finally relearning my skills as a practitioner that I thought I lost all so long ago.   You don’t tend to realize, what was taken for granted can be lost or thought lost, I thought so for a long time, still do at times but it's the willingness to draw a line in the sand with yourself, to make a new start in thinking, to carry on consistently in what you're doing and where you're going, that what was lost is just misplaced.   I restarted this journey on my own and now joined with people on their own paths, it can be scary and daunting at times, it can also be exciting and rewarding but there is now one thing constant that I'm thankful for, I'm not on my own on this path anymore and I'm grateful for the close connections people have made with me.   So, taking a step back, what have I achieved? Establishing myself back in NW scene. That was my goal last year, but I've achieved so much more without realizing it. Creating a scene and doming in public display. New techniques in sensory and impact play. I am more proficient with the Violet wand and regaining my self-confidence as a dominant in styles of role play. I've been asked to mentor and accepted; it is a responsibility I take seriously and has helped me retread old ground with my own training from over 20 years ago. And last, somehow (I'm thanking the gods and certain people wile typing this) in the winter after taking up residence at club lash, I'm now Dudgeon Monitoring, I will always feel more comfortable working. It’s helped immensely to quickly orientate myself back as a semi professional in-house dominant and I'm honestly grateful this has happened.   Moving forwards to 2024 I have a firmer grasp of myself and what I am able to do now and what I want to do in the future. There are some projaspects in the works from group activities to self-improvement, some long term other short, but all kink related as I reacquaint myself back more into the lifestyle   My path may have been slow and gradual, but I've come a long way, and can look back knowing I'm on the right path. I still have a long way to go and don’t know if this path will end as new avenues open in 2024, but for now be mindful, live in the present, take stock, give thanks and appreciation in what you have. To stay humble, to stay hungry for the knowledge and opportunities that have been given to you and to always appreciate those meaningful connections that people give you.   2023 thank you   2024 I'm ready... more than i will ever be and I'm looking forward to what comes further down the road

* ISO of a decent, naturally submissive gentleman to grow old with in a committed LTR relationship * NOT interested in horndogs, freak shows, married and cheating, online anything, pay to plays, or anything else subpar  * just want a great guy who is submissive by nature, who knows his place in a FLR with whom to share My life * NO drama, excuses, or BS * am seeking a quality submissive man ready to settle down and enjoy life with a truly Dominant Woman in a D/s relationship * not willing to settle for less

  GENERAL INFORMATION   (I CLAIM COPYRIGHTS TO THE TEXT BELOW.)   ONLY CANDIDATES WITH A VALID PERMANENT RESIDENCE PERMIT IN EU, WILL BE CONSIDERED.   I am not interested to receive messages from talkers (small chit-chat), jokers that just like to chat, meet over for a coffee, cyber domination, make friends, meet or waste My time on convincing Me to allow them to ''try'' or just train them for the life as slave.With this issue cleared beware:   My time is precious and if you cannot respect this fact, there is nothing more to discuss.   I AM ONLY INTERESTED IN YOU:   WHO HAVE GIVEN IT ENOUGH THOUGHT, WHO HAS ALREADY DECIDED WHAT SHE/HE WANTS, WHO IS READY TO COMMIT FOR A PERMANENT RELATIONSHIP NOW, NOT IN A DISTANT UNKNOWN FUTURE I do not search for an adventure. BDSM is My lifestyle. I do not seek sex, I want a slave but sex may occur. I dominate both physical & psychological. If that is nothing for you, if you cannot obey, do not write to Me. I demand complete obedience of My slave, regardless what it is I say. Neither ''no'' or ''but'' are accepted. If you cannot obey, you do not need to apply for the position. I do not necessary search an experienced subject, but genuine submissiveness is something one cannot be trained to. I demand everything in domestic work (as laundry, cooking, cleaning, etc) car (change tires, car wash, etc.) gardening, or personal services (massage, manicure, etc) or others as travel, dine or dance with Me, etc… It is Me and My needs that are in the focus, not yours. If you are an egocentric or one, who believes slavery is about Your dreams, topping from the bottom, receiving attention or ''reward'', go on with your search. If you become Mine, you become part of the VoN' s House and you will have a regular job. Work, party, fun, boring, vacation, all. The good and the bad, you will be part of. I am strict but correct, loving, affectionate and I live a healthy life. I do NOT consider Myself a sadist and I do NOT enjoy to destroy someones health. By Sadism I understand following: needles, drawing blood, cigarette burning, pupil dilating drops, removing/breaking body parts, etc… I am not interested in pony/dog training, toilet slavery, breath control, golden/brown showers, latex, mummification, gang banging, or any extreme fetish/activities. This things are NOT included in My interests. My limits are children, animals, blood, scat, extreme activities  

This happened to me some years ago now but still remains in my memory as one of the my most embarrassing but exciting experiences. I was staying with my BF at his house for a couple of weeks. He only lived a short drive from the sea and we occasionally went for a walk on the beach. One day he announced that he thought that because of my behavior I was in need of a spanking which is something, I might add, that he did to me almost on a daily basis, and he decided we were going for a beach walk and he was going to give me a public spanking. Well, he had never done that before, I always got spanked in private usually in the bedroom or the lounge room and I was a bit dubious and rather nervous about it and what the public reaction might be and I said so. He just said well that’s tough girl that’s what’s going to happen to you and I knew there was no arguing with him, his word was law in his house (and out of it). I pouted at him a little and tried to argue further but of course it made no difference, in fact it probably made it worse for me. I was dressed in a summery, flowery mini dress, it was summertime, that flared from under my bust and only just covered my bum. Underneath I only had on my bra and panties, with my beach walking sandals on my feet. He was wearing cargo shorts and a tee shirt and to my alarm was carrying a cane in his hand as we went out the door. I said you’re not taking that with you are you! He just told me to shut up and get in the car. I did so, still pouting, which was about the only sort of defiance I could hope to get away with without risking getting a slap. I put on my seat belt and sat in nervous silence staring at my bare legs as he drove us to the beach. My mind was in a bit of a turmoil as I thought about what he said he was going to do to me but I did begin to find it curiously exciting and arousing even thinking about which panties I was wearing if they were going to be seen. Ok, out you get he said to me as we parked in the beachside carpark. He emerged from the car carrying the cane quite openly. I was quietly amused and aroused at his confidence and audacity as he walked down the sandy track to the beach proper, cane in one hand and towing me along behind him with the other. The sky was a clear bright blue with a few fluffy little clouds scudding across it. I now felt very nervously alive and excited at the thought of what was to come. The surf was crashing noisily onto the beach and the cool breeze blew through my hair and lifted up my dress forcing me to do a Marylyn Munroe seven year itch sort of pose to keep it down. To my relief the beach was not all that crowded, just a few people scattered around but there was a roadwork gang working on the road that ran alongside the beach and I could feel those guys already taking an interest in me with my attempts to keep my dress in place. We walked up the beach past the road work crew and the beach sunbathers to a rocky area at one end which was some distance from anybody else but definitely not completely out of sight. He sat on a conveniently placed large rock and I petitely sat down in the sand next to him and shading my eyes with my hand looked out to sea where a fishing boat was underway bobbing up and down in the swell. We sat like that in silence for a little while then he turned to me and in a rather soft sexy voice started to admonish me for what he called my lack of respect and disobedience over the last couple of days and how I needed to be taught a lesson, spare the rod and spoil the girl sort of stuff. I squirmed around a little as I listened to him knowing that he was right I had not been obeying him as instantly as I should have been doing, even occasionally arguing with him and that I did deserve what I was about to get. I looked across the beach towards the fairly distant beachgoers we had passed and then to the work gang on the road, also fairly distant from us now, but nobody seemed to be taking any notice of us. He took hold of my shoulder length blonde hair at the back of my neck then slowly but deliberately forced my head back until I was staring at that vivid blue sky. Automatically I twisted my head to try to get away from him but this just made him firm up his grip on my hair until it hurt and I stopped resisting him. Still using my hair to control me he pulled me across his knees and held me there. My flared dress was so short that it was already up round my waist. I felt his hand caress my bum through my satin panties and his fingers went down between my legs. I was already a teeny bit aroused by all this and by his power and confidence in what he was doing and it was now all I could do to prevent myself from squealing out loud. I just sighed instead. Then he started to spank me. He had large powerful hands and it always hurt. Each smack across my bum sent pain shooting through me making me g. I kept my hands in front of me, palms on the sand sort of balancing myself over his knees, I knew better than to try and protect my bottom with my hands. Then he hooked his thumb into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down until they were stretched tight across my mid thighs and continued spanking my now naked bum. He had pulled me across his knees facing away from the distant beachgoers and work gang but still in sight of them and I remember hoping that someone didn’t think that I was being assaulted and call the police, the last thing I wanted to face as we got back to the car would be a couple of grinning cops waiting for us and having to explain

After my first marriage to a cheater, I developed the confidence to start exploring bondage. I have a strong need for connection with a lover. Random hook-ups don't feel right to me. On the other hand, I love to flirt and have no problem meeting people anytime, anywhere. To balance this out, I experimented with chastity, both mental and physical. Around this time I made some good looking friends who got me comfortable with showing off my body for them. This was all very exciting but was not matching my desire for a relationship built on trust that includes times of intense sexual expression. I wanted to have a bondage partner that was as strong minded and aggressive as I was.With years of searching, it is dawning on me that my natural manner attracts compassionate and often sexually submissive women. My hidden desire is to be the submissive partner, however, I wanted to feel my submission during daily life rather than in the bedroom, without squashing my masculine personality. I'm searching for an unusual balance where I am appreciated for being a responsible man navigating every day life but with my happy partner having the power to flip my switch into a lusty and aggressive lover who will pin her down and take us both into sexual adventures in bondage and submission. I am now picturing a scenario in which my I commit to someone by surrendering the keys to my chastity belt. On days of her choosing, she provides me an opportunity for freedom knowing that I am quite frustrated with lust for her. This is my license to drop my normal demeanor and become a little meaner, taking what I need in the way that I want. When the time to revert to public persona returns, it is understood that she should claim the keys and remind me that I belong only to her. This is what I might term a submissive led switch, with the role-reversal determined by the woman not by playing domme but by choosing to let the dogs out! Yes, I want to have to freedom to using my ability to capture and dominate, but I don't want to have to suppress my desire to do so. If I hand you the keys, I want us to be comfortable knowing that when sex happens, it happens only because you want it to happen. You will know I am always ready when you are because you are my only release.

i am pretty sure he's done with me.  No idea how I'm going to get through this feeling of failure.  I don't think I possess the ability to move on.  He owns every part of me. My thoughts are wrapped around him, our interactions, our love.  I don't surrender temporarily. I don't quit just because things get hard. I never have.  But somehow I'm supposed to quit him? Quit us? And just carry on? The very thought is viscerally painful.  I miss him. He still won't talk to me. Not even to tell me one way or the other.  On FetLife he's still listed on my profile. I suggested he remove it if he was done with me, that it would give him a way of telling me without the need for direct contact, if that's what he wanted. He is still listed.  All I know is, it's going to take the death of hope to let him go. 

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

strength is gone I am so done being strong im breaking and shattering like a broken mirror i cant stand this feeling im breaking down and i am so annoyed with myself but taking it out on everyone around me as i lay here tonight theres not much more i can take the tears are shedding and my self confidence is non existing just what i fucking need im still breathing so i guess thats an upside but fuck it all im so done pretending that im okay and if you cant accept me the way i am than whats the point of being my friend im just so over it

Thought time for another update.Still looking for that true lifestyle Owner to take kjay into TOTAL 247 ownership as Their slave to use as They wish and make Their lives easier and more pleasurable. Think as stated before, for the right Owner kjay will give himself totally to Them as slave property , leave all current life behind, to be owned and serve , as a slave should. A number of chats have been done recently but so far none have resulted in kjay being taken as slave property, so the search for an Owner continues. kjay thanks his "slave bother" who is helping to keep kjay focused at the moment, while unowned, this is helping alot

 LilViciousLala