You should be very careful throwing around terms like "true Dom/Master/sub/slave" or "real Dom/Master/sub/slave". What is real and true to me isn't necessarily what's real and true to someone else. A lot of times people throw out those terms and what they really mean is "someone who thinks exactly like me" or "someone who practices BDSM just like I do". Other times they mean "you have to agree with everything I say, believe and do, or you're not a 'real' Dom/sub/Master/slave". As far as I'm concerned, if you're willing to learn from others (regardless of which side of the slash they live on), you're kind, accepting, practice as safely as possible within you and your partners limits, you're respectful of others even if they have differing opinions/practices or beliefs, then you're as 'real' and 'true' as can be. I may not agree with you...I may not even want to spend time with you or associate with you, but I certainly won't malign you as being 'fake'.

I am not looking for casual, short term or long distance anything.  If that's you move along With you an an experienced Slave or Submissive on a daily basis ( not solely a play bottom for the bedroom = no thanks) who lives in London/Essex/Kent. Don't bother if you are more than 2 hours from those locations. 

I know your out there I feel your breathing I sense your need to be controlled. I have been looking for you for several years now I’ve seen you in my mind bound, struggling with the chain that binds you. The need to be used kept. You need even the decision of who to belong to taken from you. You only want someone to come and take you give you a home and a purpose. You don’t want to play at being a slave you want to be a slave. Even if I never find you I will still know you’re out there denying to yourself that this is truly what you wish for. I have denied that this is who I truly am what I need and want for to long wearing the guise of the gentle patient Master when the sadistic black side of me hides within. I want to feel your fear your need for my uses of your mind and body. I ache to feel your hair wrapped in my fist my hand at your throat the fear and need in your eyes.

Love is giving someone the power to destroy you...but trusting them not to.     Thoughts on submission.... Submission is not about being used, submission is about being of use. Submission is not thinking less of yourself, Submission is thinking of yourself less. Submission is not about what is done to you Submission is what you can do for her.  

My thoughts on training a submissive.  Why should I give my time to train someone who should at least have basic life training? He or she should be intelligent enough to listen while getting to know the person he or she is talking to. You should talk to each other and get to know the person.  Ask questions, and clarify what is being said. This is a get-to-know-you period without a dynamic, rules, or protocols.  I get that there are people out there who do not want to do this, then question if this is a dynamic you want to be in. Will I teach someone to be an adult? No. Will I guide them when we decide to move forward in a dynamic? Yes.  Will I expect him to do some basic research and ask questions? Absolutely. He should strive to learn the fundamental positions even though I do not use many of them, learn to serve food and drinks in high protocol, learn basic chores, how to clean a bathroom well, what not to flush down the toilet (this is an important one), and what products to use while cleaning. Learn to cook simple basics, eggs, toast, avocado toast, make biscuits (think old school home-economic classes), do laundry, sort it, which clothes don't go in the dryer and what does, what clothes need to be ironed.  Have you thought about taking some cooking classes? Massage therapy classes but not pass the test to cut back on cost?  Have you considered taking a bartending class for those who might like a cocktail? You might shine at a party with this skill. Learn to pour or pair wines. Embellishments in water are simple to do when meeting her. Make sure of any allergies; you would not want to put fruit in the water if she's allergic. Get my drift? Show some initiative. She may not want some or all of these or other things, but you are prepared just in case. The fact that you learned how to do things shows you in a good light. PS: All of this can be used by you while you find your person. There are so many ways to impress Dominants. But asking us to put out a lot of energy training for you is not the way. The question to ask is: How can I make your life easier?  How many ways or hints did I give you to try? Answer: A LOT.   In hindsight, this is not for everyone. What you put into providing makes the difference. I am a lifestyle Dominant seeking a submissive who has a submissive service heart in a Dommesentric relationship. There is a difference that quickly becomes evident in your profile and messages. 

Open letter to all the weirdos who keep writing me weird shit:  I often get what probably is canned messages from men here, and it's so disappointing and disillusioning.  Dude. Don't send out a message like this to someone you don't even know! The likelihood of a normal woman liking it and replying to it is infinitesimally small! Quit thinking with your dick!  I, and, again, the vast majority of thoughtful women, would no more reply to show interest in this kind of slobbering trite than they would step off a curb in front of a bus!  Grow up, man! Stop being so desperate! Get a life! Get outdoors! Do some volunteer work! Stop wanking all the time! And def stop watching so much porn!  You MAY be a great guy under all the porn induced delusions, but no one will ever know it if you don't stop making these lame attempts at wannabe Dom guy shit. This is not what being a Dom or Master is even about! You are not a white knight, you are an idiot. Get a clue, get real, and stop writing me these I want to take you to my castle in the sky email propositions!  You can thank me later. 

If you found a normally locked door unlocked, wouldn't you worry?  I went away for the long weekend and came back last night after dark. Unloading the car, putting things away, blah blah. I stopped and looked at the kitchen door. Unlocked. I lock every door when coming in out of habit. Unlocked. I start looking around, checking closets, go downstairs, check that door, the windows. Nothing. Nothing looks missing. Eventually I head upstairs, with a kitchen knife. Okay, with two kitchen knives because what if the person waiting to murder me knocks the first one out of my hand? Secret knife in my hoodie pouch.  Now, you're probably saying but you have a dog, she will attack. I would think so, too. What she did was walk upstairs and go straight to her bed. The weekend wore her out. I was on my own. You might also think that's a good sign if she doesn't hear or smell anything unusual. She also has walked right by french fries and never noticed. Let's not count on her awareness to save the day. Back to me. Back when I was paranoid I bought a, what are those things called, the zapper thing, because I don't know how to use a gun and I would probably shoot a hole into my closet and ruin several of my favorite dresses. I went to get that to continue my search and it was dead. Why would I keep it charged? Indeed. Kitchen knife and secret hoodie knife it is. Every closet, peeled back the shower curtain, looked under every bed. Checked my jewelry. All fine. And then I closed and locked the bedroom door and wound a belt around the handles and slept with the tv on.  What about the kitchen door? All I can think is I missed relocking it the last time I went out. You better believe I won't be doing that again any time soon. The kitchen knife and secret hoodie knife are still on the nightstand. 

As required by my Dom, I publicly declare the following: I am subMeghan, and as I type this this, I am completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… Today’s Journal Topic Is: Why The Fuck Haven’t I Posted Any More Journal Updates! I actually get this question a lot.  Unfortunately, that’s part of the problem.  Apparently, you guys are actually reading my journals!  And why, pray tell, is that a bad thing? Well, I’m going to tell you… When I first started journaling here, I wrote as if I was speaking into the void.  I wasn’t writing for an audience, rather I was writing merely for the sake of publicly letting my inner thoughts leave my body and go forth into the vast e-universe.  I thought I was just a “voice in the wilderness” to be lost in the chasm of anonymity. It was a stream of consciousness, a flow of thoughts. It was kinda like talking outloud to yourself, not thinking anyone was listening. However… that was not the case...  You were listening.  And now you all had access to the part of my psyche that I kept hidden away, kept in the shadows, away from “polite” society.  And worse yet…  You had questions! I had mistakenly thought that CS was just another fetish website that was here today, and then be gone tomorrow like so many other sites.  Boy, was I wrong.  LOL I stopped writing because I became very self-conscious.  VERY self-conscious.  I quickly ran away from the spotlight as soon as I felt it’s light upon my exposed soul.  Who the hell am I to have the audacity to think I have anything of substance to say to a listening world? I have never liked being the center of attention.  I am a wallflower, the kind of gal that always stands at the edges of a crowd.  I am quiet, reserved, and passive.  I am a watcher, an observer - not a performer.  And certainly not, heaven forbid, an extrovert! Over time, I’ve been able to reflect.  I’ve decided to start posting again.  I suspect the tone of my journal entries will change, much like Schrodinger's cat, now that I am aware that I’m being watched.  We’ll see.  I will let this journal entry be the start of a new chapter in subMeghan’s ongoing adventure. Here’s to the journey! subMeghan    

seeking a dom /Master who is seeking ultimateky a 24/7 slave to train, develop and mould into his perfect vision    i have many kinks and interests, and i can give you a high level view of them, they revolve around being controlled, humiliation, ification, enslavement etc    however at the core of it, i Like to please, entertain, and serve.    I'm based in London but willing to relocate. although there are somethings i maybe hesitant to do i Don't really believe in limits in a trusted D/s engagement. ultimatEly the slave will give up all rights and choices to her Master/Dom. ive Seen this called TPE amongst other things.      there is nothing really too extreme for me. And I'm keen to modify myself physically and my behaviours to please you.   i have some prior experience being a slave but looking for that sense of purpose, but also that sense of trust that comes from serving a genuine dom/Master       im A fan of the gor books and i think there's many principles that can be taken from the slavery they depict there, however I don't think it needs to be followed to the letter, but neither would it be bad if it did        Seeking TPE, chattel style ownership, 24/7 

It has been ages since I have been on this site so it will take me a bit to get used to the way this is set up. Kink: I am dominant, and am drawn to 24/7 Master/slave relationships with TPE, though I am not opposed to Dominant/submissive dynamics. In my head I think some of my tastes can be a bit extreme, I am well aware after all this time in this community that it is really just a matter of one's perspective, and I am down right vanilla in comparison to some. Other writtings and a more complete fetish list can be found on my FetLife profile. My interests include, but are not limited to: Anal Bimbofication Bathroom control Chastity Enemas Fisting, both vaginal and anal Humiliation Lactation Rimming Rough use S&M Toilet slavery Watersports Health: I get tested between partners, and when I am in poly relationships I get tested when it seems prudent depending on circumstances. I have both varieties of Herpes, and though I have not had an outbreak for over 5 years to the best of my knowledge, this is something potential partners should be aware of.  At my current age of 62 it might not be a surprise the I can have issues from time to time with erectile dysfunction. This is not an issue for me as I have always enjoyed using toys etc. and find a multitude of ways of enjoying myself.  I have for the last 2 1/2 years been dealing with PPPD which makes it seem as if the world is alway rocking 24/7 and leaves me with brain fog among a litany of other side-effaspects.   Other than these delightful tidbits I am healthy and in a shape.

Well I have been asked why my Profile says Dominant. I think most all CD Gurls have both Dom and Sub persoanlities. Sometimes a CD Gurl just needs to be able to stand up for herself and yet other times when feeling very fem, likes to flirt and enjoys being sexually chased. Been many times very frustrated dealing with the Dom personality and has considered to become a Switch and taken by a Slave Master. Again, this poses some special issues. Nobody I know wants to impose a death sentence on themselves but to be taken, broken and retrained for servitude as a slave seems very appealing and might solve issues of needing to be always making the decisions. Being a slave means you most likely become an "IT" as owned property and you no longer get to choose anything. Everything is chosen for it by the Owner/Master that it is bound to. As a CD, Domestic Servitude seems very attractive while flitting to and from it's chores, dressed in something fem and cute and of course Sexual Servitude is without saying, a very real life situation as a slave. CD Gurls do not fear this because most all are Bisexual   and retrained as a Gay Slave is only a slight change. One of the main changes is a sexual slave provides sexual satisfaction to it's Master without expecting any of it's own, except the learning to be satisfied that Master is satisfied. A slave might never experience another orgasm for the rest of it's life as a slave? A slave will need to learn Master's protocols for everything and expect punishments when it does not perform to Master's standards. A Master may want to brand His slave. He may want to have slave pierced in many areas of it's body. Many Gay Masters want the slave to wear a permanent metal collar so can never be removed by slave. They also want slave to be nude, rather than clothed. This would be a hurdle a "former CD gurl" would need to overcome or be constanly thinking of fem clothing and how it felt to be wearing these girlie girl garments and enjoying the fabrics and texture of fabrics and array of colors and prints in fem clothing.   And this most likely would cause it's Master distain and cause Master to punish slave more frequently and harshly with whippings, rather than just spankings. From messaging with slaves and former slaves, it finds out it would need to learn to appreciate punishments from Master and thank Master for his guidance. All of these things are perplexing and need to be considered before taking that "One Step Beyond" into a new life style and forever leaving the past behind. Once it enters Master's Dungeon there is no going back or returning home. Some Masters require male slaves to be castrated to make them more mellow and permanently change them so they are even more, less likely to think of escaping in those beginning months of training and breaking slave down to a blank canvas for it's life of servitude. Simply stated, a Submissive is someone who "chooses" how to give pleasure and enjoy receiving pleasure with a more Dominant person. A Slave has NO choices. A Slave does what Master says and goes where Master takes it.  

How hard is it to actually read a profile before messaging someone? I mean really, it's not that difficult to do, either that or people just don't care. Seeing the messages I get it seems both. You want fuckmeat, move on I'm not it. I'm also sure as hell am not sharing my picture with anyone until I feel comfortable with you. I will also say again that this is the fastest way for me to ignore your messages and/or block you:  1. Clearly not reading my profile, I'll know if you are not from or around the location I stated, being right out disrespectful and thinking I'll actually want your "guidance" or be your "toy" when you couldn't take the time to look at my interest list or my limits which are all up to date.  2. Sending me pictures without asking me, this includes any kind of picture. If I want to see what you look like I will ask. Same with sending me a phone number or any other type of social media ID, if I want it I'll ask. 3. If you can't open a conversation with more than "Hi, how are you?" or just "Hi." Then I'm not interested, I like substance and if you can send a good opening message then I'll be more likely to wanna talk to you don't bother with anything half assed it just won't work.  4. You're profile and/or interest list is blank. I could understand if your proifle is brand new but if you've been on this site for more than a month I think you've had plenty of time to write and add in your interests. That helps me guage what kind of person you are. 

The phone rang, his voice on the line Hello slut Hello, Sir she responds. Cunt aching beneath her belt, craving. Touch... Craving play. Her permission to play has seemed to shifted into teases and torments. As this evenings task, she must fill her wholes and they are to be locked in place. As he ended the call his last words - enjoy your torments, girl She replied thank you, Sir... It's a very good thing she didn't share her pouts.. they would not have her any good..and if she did... He has the ability to keep adding to her torments... Nope... Thank you Sir, is always a perfect response. Once the call was completed, she placed her locking tongue gag in her mouth and proceeded to try and accomplish something .. a bit messy and drooling from her gag. Driving home with her gag in She comes home from the office, her pants go right into the washer as they were soaked in the scent of her arousal. She entered the bedroom and already she could smell her arousal feeling the room. She was Afraid to unlock her belt, as all of the sensations rise to the surface and she's already horny... And not sure how much more she can take... But she will endure. Sir chose her biggest largest plug that she is still getting accustomed to. She got it in place, and chose to write slut on her on her feet and then placed a cock shaped toy in her cunt. Sent him a couple pictures, a before and after showing him, the task he set for her has been followed. Asking to remove the gag for dinner, she practically waddled her way up the stairs to have dinner with the house mate.. Attempting to sit in a kitchen chair, while overly stuffed, was a tricky situation.. each movement.. Different out comes .. some okay.. some were reminder aas to just what a slut she truly is. After dinner, she returned downstairs, and then proceeded to ask Sir, his preference in which gag to wear, she knew which one he'd choose, and he did... The halter gag. So this girl is spending the evening with everyone of her wholes filled, everything is locked in place... The torments of pictures on fet, the ache in her body to be used, the wanting to do something but In ways she's feeling lost... She's not had this experience in a long while... I'm ways she's pouting not being able to play, though she run her fingers over the belt and the plug.. the tease felt good and she's greatful to not have her wholes empty while she's locked and denied entry. No idea what's in-store... Not even going to ask.. was hoping to have a weekend of play while him and his girl goes away... I'm being obedient, doing as tasked... It's been. A quiet night

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

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

For fuck's sake, guys. It is truly pitiable how few of you bother to do anything at all to learn about the reality of your own desires. There are non-fiction books, blogs, sites, videos, discussions, munches, classes, seminars, demos, and events all over the place, if you look up from the porn and erotica and think with the upper head. It is nobody elses responsibilty to teach you. Dominant women are NOT automatic teachers of all the stuff. How do you think WE learn it? I've read a whole 3 profiles this evening. This is why I don't bother to read more. They are ignorant, porn-fed, and say nothing of interest. Dominants do not "mold" you into a different person. Daily life in a D/s relationship in the real world without payment living together on a daily basis looks pretty much the same as any other relationship. It is not a constant kinky scene. Most subs wear the same old clothes, do the same old stuff, have the same old hobbies. Their partner is in charge for whatever they have agreed to, but that isn't a constant visible porn scene. A dominant does not live for inspections and demands. It means he asks if a casserole is okay for dinner, and if she says no, he finds something else. It does NOT mean she is standing over him in a corset inspecting his shopping list with a crop in her hand. It doesn't mean you spend your days cringing and hoping every tiny detail is correct. That's erotica. Learn the difference. No, submissive men do not look or act any different than any other men. There is absolutely no need to make a point of how normal you are in public. Subs are ALL normal appearing people. Because that is what they are. Normal people who happen to prefer their partner being in charge. You are not alpha special super sub because you do not crawl in public or do have solid boundaries or do not have social anxiety. None of those things are submissive. You are just another guy. Get over it. And no, if you have social anxiety, insecurities, poor personal boundaries, or any other personal issue, submission will not fix it. Dominants are not gurus, not life coaches, not therapists, and are not out here looking for projaspects. Submission just means you do things her way. That does not make all your problems go away, and a dominant is no more interested in taking on a project and trying to fix some guy than any other woman. Your life, your personality, your issues, as well as your other qualities, are yours to deal with. That does not change because of a relationship. If you want kinky play, that's great. Have fun! Go meet a network of kinky play friends and go for it! But do NOT call yourself a slave and pretend you want an FLR. That is not what that means.

How Manipulation Begins I had begun conversing with a gent a few days ago. He asked me how my night was or some conversation starter.  I dont typically respond to  emails with no photos, but thought I'd take a chance (in other words, I thought it was safe to let my guard down.)  It was midnight and I was getting  ready for bed.  He stated he wanted to continue chatting , at a later date.  I sent him my Google number if he wanted to text freely.  🚩I didn't receive a goodnight text, which automatically let me know he's a ghost. He's clearly scamming or cheating.   In his response, he states wants to get to know me.  However, he wants to "spoon til morning--that's creating s false sense of intimacy. This is why you need to pay attention, regardless of gender.    His follow-up was just as manipulative.   He didnt apologize for sending mixed signals,  nor did he take responsibility for the confusion.    Be Safe Out There!   I was not ignoring you my dear beautiful Miss, I was search for my archives of pictures so I could share another one with you. Thank you for your number I hope you don’t mind but given the vulnerability I feel in sharing pictures can we keep the correspondence here until and longer friendship is formed. I hope you don’t mind this. And of course I was always going to say goodnight sweet Miss. How much I would love to change now into something satiny and spoon you till morning  

Collarspace guidelines prohibit "trans exclusionary hate speech, consensual non-consensent, things which are unlawful, othering, culturally insensitive or hurtful". This and similar is common across social media. It's as if PC Principal has invaded and occupied our online spaces: https://youtu.be/Vvc1nxlJb-o?si=Jn3aS5FR-HX_E-8F

SO,YES.I AM TOO MUCH. YOU ARE HERE TO CATER TO MY DESIRES.NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND,ACCEPT IT OR MOVE ON.JUST LET ME KNOW.

Goddess' appetite is insatiable.  No matter the number of slaves Goddess owns She always wants more. Those who wish to experience My Glory here should approach and find themselves fulfilled in worshipping Me. Until then, Goddess shares Her Dreams. Fifty new girls, all beautiful and complete, were collected for a ritual.  All to begin their life in eternity as Goddess' slaves.  The ritual a conpetiton.  Goddess sits upon Her Throne, radiant.  In purple leather boots with straps and buckles and heels, purple leather calf length dress worn black stitching, animating venomous creatures that are My pets.  And a black corset highlighting My FigUte. The initiates were given little guidance.  Do not wear leather.  Do not wear black or purple, except if in rainbow.  Do not wear boots.  Otherwise dress in a way that reflaspects your submissiveness and in a way to please Me, which are quite varied.  Each initiate approaches on her own, first crawling, head low and unable to see Me.  Then when told to stand, to be inspected.  Ogled.  Desired.  to walk slowly to My Boot and show devotion with a heartfelt prayer of thanks.  And then to be settled on My Lap, to make out for 90 seconds.  Such joy for the initiates to be used. each is graded on their drEd's, approach, prayer, and kiss.  A lesser goddess would surrender to lust and orgasm after four or five sessions.  For Goddess it is but foreplay.  Building My Inevitable and Insurmoutable Love.  All fifty are broughy, kneeling, relaxed.  Hopeful to be the one chosen to warm My Bed.  My wife on a leash at My side.  No trace of jealousy.  Joyful that I take joy in cucking her in adding lovers.  she sets the example for all to follow. My Boots echo across the stone floor as I walk amongst you.  All heads bowed.  A few I touch.  On the neck.  Or hair.  or breast.  Since you are Mine, Intouch asI wish.  And you touch Me, even see My delicate painted toes, only when I allow.  It oleassMe how many quiver as My fingers trace patterns of joy on your bodies. inneach hand a marble is placed.  Unseen.  then as I sit on My Throne yet again, palms are open.  44 black marbles.  One pinis  four red.  One purple. i call the girl with the purple one to My Side and affix a purple leather collar, diamonds spelling out beauty, on her neck.  She is the one chosen.  No one is disappointed.  All pleased their sister gets to bring Me sexual pleasure. but Goddess is greedy. one girl is never enough.  My wife places red collars on four necks.  Gives each a kiss.  They too will come to MyBed.  But first, they will take 11 girls each and lock in black steel.  Confined for the night.  Able on to hear My Pleasure from the next room.  Each are kissedso they learn what others have done to please Me so that they might improve.  They are told nothing about whether they can oleasure themselves, though their hands are bound, during the night, except that the Will report 0,1, or more than 1.  The girl in pink is told to monitor their safety during the night. She had the lowest score, and so has the most menial tasks.  But a task of joy in service to Me none the less. whole the girls with black were being confined, Goddess took the chosen to her bed, and went down on her.  For Goddess loves the thrill of discovering your body.  Making it sing for Me. When the other four come, the room is alive with passion.  All must fill Mine until I am spent. Five new lovers.  In the morning a tangle of limbs.  Exhausted.  Content.  Then shown by My wife to their new room they will share, sisters.  A final step for the other forty five.  Each black collared slave girl is given a soft kiss, told their new role as maid or chauffeur.  Each is asked for their number, 0, 1, 1+.  Each answer is stored and welcomed.  A tool to help Me shape and mold.  Then the pink collared slave is fucked in front of them all, to show that even she has value, sexuality.  There is no chastity here. it matters not to Me whether you ire to be a cherished lover, wearing a purple collar, an occasional bed made, wearing red, a servant wearing black, or a caretaker of slaves wearing pink.  All have value to Me.  All are beautiful to Me. lexi and demon will wear purple for sure.  Others have earned red.  Some have chosen black, which pleases Me. Worshup.  Be the best you can be.  Shower Me and lavish Me woth attention. Confess to Me your greatest desires and fears and hopes and dreams and let Me share them with you.  Give Me your sexuality to play with, holding and releasing at My Will.  Find your color in My Realm.  ire to the heights that you wish for.  There is no shame on wanting any of the colors.  For you are all beautiful  There is one more.  Gold.  Goddess will in time have more than one wife.  I cannot wait to give out the second, though it may not be in this mortal realm.

I keep hearing "experienced" subs and Doms alike saying that the sub has the power in a D/s dynamic.. and the way it is described is that the sub is controlling the encounter. I personally do not believe this is the case... Prior to the encounter the sub has every right to lay out limits and establish safe words... But during the encounter the Dom should take full control... Staying within the established terms.. and should not breach the trust that the sub has given the Dom and if the sub finds that it is going too far then the sub should use the safe word to completely stop the situation.. not try to control and change it in the middle of the encounter.   I've been told that I'm not a Dom because I don't believe the sub has the power in the exchange... I've been accused of being too hard lined so I'm a Master not a Dom. However I'm a 24/7 Dom... But just because I say the sub doesn't have the power to control the encounter doesn't mean their limits are not respected... I believe that unless a sub is consented to serving me or wearing my collar as a sign of commitment to serving me then the sub has a right to establish limits for the encounter...   Trust and consent are the keys. Consent to obey or accept the encounter as the Dom wants to use... Trust that the Dom will not exceed the limits established during negotiation... And above all else... Have a safe word to stop all activity. Not to dial it back...   I just felt I had to bring my opinion to light and hopefully clear up some misconceptions some people have about my opinion on this topic.   I hope everyone is having a wonderful day and has a happy Thanksgiving.    

As far back as I can remember, I've had a compulsion to be with alpha males. Even as young as 6 or 7, I remember fantasizing what it would be like to be kidnapped by men, tied up and taken away. I suppose that says something about my early childhood, but what difference does that make now. And it wasn't that I hated my family. I just wanted to be the property of a strong older man.    Somewhere around that time I began trying self bondage. I would take my mother's supply of ace bandages, go up into the hot, humid attic and tie myself as best I could and fantasize about being some man's captive. Occasionally I would hear “what are you doing up there” and I'd have to spit the sock out of my mouth and come up with some passable answer. I don't remember ever getting caught but there were many near-misses.   We lived directly across from a factory where my father worked and from my bedroom I could watch all these macho blue collar workers file in clean and then file out sweaty and dirty. I was always mesmerized, especially when they were sweaty and dirty.    I'm rusty these days and not as agile as I used to be, but serious bondage was always one of my favorite fetishes. People would ask why and I would always say “there's freedom in bondage.” Freedom to go within and see what you can take and how much deeper you can go in your submission. And then there's the freedom of letting someone I trust take control of me and make my decisions for me.   I've always been hard-wired to be submissive to superior men. It's my nature. To be in the service of men is still the driving force in my life.   If you're reading this far and find yourself interested, I appreciate that deeply but I'm not available at the moment. I'm caring for an 80+ year-old Dom that I've known forever. I'm not even in the US. I park myself in Nevada on this site because there are very few people who understand my needs where I am.   I've been on this site for almost 10 years. First journal entry because I'm bored and a bit lonesome at times. I still feel the need to be owned and probably always will. I'll just have to be patient like a good sub.

Advice for messaging*It is disrespectful and insulting when someone sends an introductory email which does not mention anything specific about my profile or interact with it at all.  Ask yourself this question.  Could the majority of your email to me be copied and pasted to 100 other people and be just as valid?  If the answer is yes and you send this to me then you have just identified yourself as a time waster.  Do you want me to think of you as a time waster?  Is this really how you want to introduce yourself?*If your spelling and grammar are poor, you are not putting in enough effort.  This identifies you as LAZY.  Some try to excuse their laziness with various reasons but you can always have a friend read what you write or just reread what you type out loud a few times before you hit the send button.  I do realize that some bad punctuation is facilitated by the text editor here because this site strips out most punctuation except commas, question marks, periods, and exclaimation points. Hopefully this will be addressed someday, but till then you can still find creative ways to mimic other punctuation.*But the main form of showing disrespect through a lack of effort is just not typing very many words.  Incomplete sentences, only one sentence, or worse, one word or just a bit of text speak show a lack of effort, interest, and concern.  Many people do not want to communicate over a phone, they only want to type, but then they also are not willing to put in much effort at typing either.  So I quickly find an imbalance of effort as I see the words I type quickly outpacing the other person.  This makes the other person seem uninvolved and unappreciateive of my efforts.  They insist that I type and not TALK to them but then they do not put effort in to type either!Frequently, I find that I spend a great deal more energy and effort typing long messages to people who do not put any effort into what they send me.  Sometimes, when someone does not put enough effort into their messages, I will limit my response back to them.  If all you can offer me is a few words or letters then I will try to use FEWER words and letters than you did!  This will make my messages difficult to understand and if this frustrates you, GOOD.  Now you know how I feel!*On the other hand, if you are willing to put time, and effort to create a polite, cogent, salient, and compelling email which directly references my profile... perhaps by pointing to something specific that I have written and telling me what you think about it, then you can be sure that I will write back to you.

8/24/25 I'm around, albeit less frequently. I am still looking for a FT sub/slave, with a big focus on working beside me, as my hands. A sub in my Home will be well cared for, with a level of D/s and kink that helps keep them motivated. If you enjoy house and yard work, there's plenty to stay busy, or if you're able and want to work from home or here in the Denver area, that's an option.  Long-term position is also a possibility, which means my extra-long set of questions may be the most important job application you ever complete.  It's not for the faint of heart... Then again, neither am I. 😈

Finally re-dyed my hair for the first time in six months.  Made a mess of it, all over me, but the colors are better than i could have hoped for.   Unfortunately it did not help my mental state at all, which was what i was most hoping for.  But at least now i can get my new driver's license and have pretty colored hairs in my picture. Daddy has been so patienct with my mental state, or lack thereof, and i need to find a way to make it up to Him.  How he deals with me i will never know, but i am beyond thankful. This week also started our doctor appointments...hopefully we are able to start the disability process for Him quickly so that we have a dual income again.  And i know He hates not being able to contribute financially due to His health.  The doctor told Him that although He is only 41, He has to consider Himself 75 physically, and that is a tough pill to swallow.   For me i'm sure they will try and give me medications again, and i'll accept it for my blood pressue as it is beyonf sky-high but other than that i prefer not to take anything....i would rather allow my body to heal itself....even if it is really bad at doing so...

== Results from bdsmtest.org: ==   100% Submissive  90% Rope Bunny  88% Brat  81% Masochist  77% Experimentalist   57% Degradee  52% Voyeur  45% Primal (Prey)  38% Vanilla  21% Pet  20% Slave  18% Exhibitionist  9% Non-monogamist  6% Owner  4% Rigger  0% Daddy/Mommy  0% Ageplayer  0% Brat tamer  0% Degrader  0% Dominant  0% Little  0% Master/Mistress  0% Primal (Hunter)  0% Sadist  0% Switch   

On the twelfth day of Kinkmas my true sub got from me:Twelve spankers spankingEleven croppers croppingTen paddlers paddlingNine caners caningEight maids a milkingSeven floggers floggingSix whippers whippingFive Ben Wa ballsFour anal beadsThree stuffed holesTwo nipple clampsAnd a red butt over my knee.

Someone actually quite a challenge to WOW them about consent (not on cs).... I decided to write most of my response here, even though done of it is mentioned in my profile.   Wow you with consent... I love that challenge. So first things first, you can't have fun when anxiety and fear are the prevailing emotions.  Does that mean a person can't struggle against bonds or their patterned who is ignore than please of 'no' or begging for mercy and still find pleasure?  Sure they can, in the form of a safe word.  They can be simple as red, yellow, and green light... Red light being stop, yellow light, don't get any more intense... Or if the room is wiring about the intensity, can ask, sand if she say green light, she's good, keep going.   A bdsm relationship, whether it is in bed only, or 24/7 is still a 50-50 relationship.  Just because the sun lens the doom some of her fifty, doesn't mean she can't take some of all of it back at any time.  He wants to try anal, she doesn't, "I'm the Dom, so I can" is an EPIC of FAILURE of understanding basic [healthy] bdsm... Also might violate a law or two whether or not either of them know it.     Communication is also key.  Set aside time (such as a dinner) to discuss what they like it don't like.  Sometimes telling a person about what they didn't like right after or right before can kill the mood or self confidence... However during Sunday night dinner, a planned conversation, "her that thing when you turned me sides ways, don't do that for more than a minute at a time, but that thing you did when you held my head on the pillow... Don't ever not do that again..."   He laughs, "sure, when your are going down... Teeth are not sexy."     Moving on..   I actually love protocol training early in a relationship.  It's almost an if-then style relationship while learning each other's kinks: If you do this, I do that... Or if I do this, you do that.  For example, if she puts a collar on, he is not allowed to use her real name, just one of the pet names that agreed upon earlier, it could be cute like 'penny' because of the penguin on the T-shirt she wore the first time they met, or it could be something more aggressive such as 'slut,' if she agreed on that at first.  A system of controls to keep them both satisfied.          

  Pain or Punishment    Masochists ask for pain for pains sake & need   ...but punishment is something different.    Punishment is not meant to please it is a means to correct, to re-aline, to educate, to change a behaviour.    Punishment means you are going to suffer physically or mentally or even both.   There will be no fun or excitement in punishment but it likely to be very memorable. 

I'm looking for something a little different. I'm looking for a Daddy and/or Mommy with a sadistic streak. I'm VERY into ass play and spanking. I love the emotional release i get from long, hard anal use. I want to be regressed back into diapers using suppositories, laxatives and enemas. I want to be put through long, grueling enema sessions that leave my anus swollen and sore. I want to find someone who will bind my wrists together in front of me and fill my bowels uncomfortably full with warm, soapy water and put me through the humilation of expelling into a diaper as many times as it takes to completely clean me out. I'm looking for someone who will use and abuse my ass regularily. I want plugs, dildos and vibrators used in my ass. Lay me flat on my stomach and finger my tight hole and use a rectal thermometer on me. When i'm naughty, cover an uncomfortably big plug in Vicks or Tiger Balm and make me hold it in my ass until you decide to take it out. Stick a vibrator in my ass and force me to cum until i can't take anymore. If I've been a good girl, lay me on my back, spread my legs wide and lick and suck my pussy, force me to cum over and over until you've had your fill. I want to find someone who will keep my pussy hairless and smooth with shaving or pre-waxed strips. Use tweezers to pluck out any stubborn hairs. I want to be spanked long and hard several times a day until i'm crying. Cut a switch and whip me until my entire ass is covered in welts and knicks. Then use alcohol on the knicks and cuts as i lay there bawling in pain. Spank my already marked and bruised ass just because you want to make me cry and beg. Cover my ass in a soaked facecloth and then remove it and beat my wet ass with a strap or belt. I want to be regressed back to a little girl with strict structure, rules, restrictions, guidance and discipline. Aftercare is a MUST! After each spanking or long ass play or enema session, I need to be hugged and cuddled and snuggled. As much as I like being disciplined I also need a lot of affection.  

A day in service.   The morning light finds me on my knees, A feather duster clutched in my hand. My only garments are these metal pieces And leather tight about my neck, so branded.   The cage is cold, a constant, weighted shame, That shrivels what pathetic manhood grew. She watches from the doorway, lips aflame, With scorn for every single thing I do.   "That spot, you missed it, worthless little worm!" Her voice is acid, sharp and cutting clean. "A child could clean with less to be concerned, But you can't even function on the scene."   She points and laughs, a sound that cuts the air, "At what they've locked away in there, so small. It's more a keychain than a thing to spare, No wonder it doesn't function at all."   I scrub the floor, my back beginning to ache, Each movement jiggles my ridiculous cage. Another failure for her to mistake For evidence of my inadequate age.   "The baseboards, look! You've left a line of dust! My useless, tiny, disappointing toy. Is there one task that isn't built on rust? One single moment you don't disappoint?"   I finish, broken, kneeling at her feet, The house is clean, but I am still a mess. She clips a leash to my collar, a treat For being best at nothing, I confess.   "Good boy," she purrs, her hand upon my head, "At least you know your place, beneath my heel. Now rest your minuscule cock in bed, And let this empty, hollow feeling feel."

I dont' mind telling you, fetish world, kink people, that I am frustrated. I am frustrated by the surge of Omicron after we finally seemed to be turning a corner on the original COVID, then Delta, etc.  I am frustrated that this is slowing down my ability to pursue my interests, as I don't consdider it wise to go hang out in a bar right now or get coffee with an interesting individual.  It is making me take my time even more than usual in my seeking of the right person, and I think in some discussions I've had, it is slowing down others' will or desire to take those risks as well. And that's ok because I'd rather spend my time with someone who shares my risk appetite than someone throwing caution to the wind. I've also seen a really disturbing trend of interesting people just deleting their profiles here mid conversation. I strongly suspect that the ambient stress of pandemic life and the demands of what should be Normal Life are creating unsustainable levels of internal conflict for folks, who eventually just hit the panic button and run from places like this.  I don't have a cure, that's for sure. The scientists keep working on it though. There's a new pill based treatment getting Emergency Use Authorization as of late December 2021. The vaccines work, boosters are available, and the whole testing thing, while it needs work, is somewhat available.  So do me a favor folks. Especially those of you possibly interested in a Domme like me, because I want my social life back. Get your damned shot. Get your booster. Get your friends and family vaxxed.  There's really no reason to help the virus find victims, it's good enough at that on its own.  

PSA!!! Misogyny and topping from the bottom is alive and well on Collarspace!  The faux wannabe’s start out nice, but within a few words that are contradictory to who they profess to be, they reveal who they are.   They go from so nice, to blocking you after you’ve called them out on their inconsistancies.   These people make it difficult for the men with true hearts, irregardless as to which power dynamic category they self identify as. They take up so much undeserved oxygen.   The most recent exchange went like this.   Unnamed User   greetings Goddess! have You ever been to new york in usa? im 55 single male sub. im eager to serve and worship You. please consider me.

It's so funny when a person contacts you and insist on doing things their way and ignore what you ask for. They were so insistant on "their" way that  I even told them they are probably dominant, they claimed that they were definitely submissive.... NOW, just a few days later; alllll of a sudden you get a message saying that they don't think that we are a match (what I told them in the first few emails   LOL) and block me for some reason. I was nothing but nice to them.  Hate to tell them I get a lot of emails so I had to look at history to even remember who the hell they were so the block doesn't really bother me  lol   was just going to wish them good luck and to stop by and say hello sometime..... yes I'm so evil   LOL and NOW allllll of a sudden they change their profile to Dominant.....LOL   Sounds like someone just wants to jerk off so now we are going to try Dominant since no one seemed to fall for the "I'm a poor pitiful submissive" routine  LOL   These people make me laugh   LOL  

I was not interested in meeting this person because he's very busy and I need someone that's has more time like myself. He went on a little bit of a rampage about earning money which I totally understand and I am a strong believer in that family comes first. I did not care anything about how much money he made or expected to earn Tell me what y'all think about this reply    Maam Just one question. Why is it that people that do not make much money have no idea what it takes to make a great deal. Time is the key. Yet people who do not make alot always wish to make more. Yet when You do make more than they never understand what it took. Yes i have responsibilities that go beyond this lifestyle. That does mean i am busy. But i take time for those i care for and the One i wish to serve. But i cannot drop everything at a seconds notice. i have to plan. Do i place money over my person. Yes, everyone does. Because it is what pays the bills and gives us those benefits we enjoy. And if You do not believe that statement go find a homeless person and give them a thousand in cash. Because if the money did not matter than You would do that everyday. Thanks for the reply. i have tried. 

All in the Name There are still many people on this planet who don’t know the acronym BDSM and what it stands for. Here’s one example of this: “A company is hiring someone for a Business Development, Sales and Marketing positionufpu

TO MY LOYAL SUPPORTERS, As the year draws to a close, I find MYSELF reflecting on the incredible journey 2024 has been. This year was nothing short of extraordinary, filled with milestones, unforgettable experiences, and growth that surpassed even MY own expectations. From traveling to new places that expanded MY vision to building deeper connections with those who’ve been here since day one, I owe it all to YOU. To MY loyal subscribers: YOU made this possible. Every moment of luxury, every goal crushed, every step forward, it’s a testament to your unwavering support and belief in ME. Together, we’ve created something unstoppable, and for that, I AM endlessly grateful. For those who’ve been watching from the sidelines, wishing they were part of this, know this: you’ve missed out on a year of exclusivity, transformation, and power. MY circle is reserved for those who understand what it means to invest in greatness. 2024 was just the beginning. The next chapter will be bigger, bolder, and untouchable. To MY loyal supporters: thank you for being part of this legacy. To the rest, the door is open, but not for long. Merry Christmas and here’s to an even more powerful 2025! With gratitude and fire,  AFRICAN GODDESS

My Heart Is a Lighthouse     My heart is a lighthouse.Inside it, a light that never goes out.Even when dim, it sends its signal —a soft pulse across the waves,trusting someone is out there,sailing slowly but surely toward me.They hold the key to the door.And when they arrive,they’ll know it was always theirs.

Im Back into feminization, tho it's a tough time and go of it. It's just I have always had this feeling of being born into the wrong gender. Don't get me wrong I'm all male. But I fantasize about what it would be like to be female.  Recently I have out my cock back into chastity. Which I consider my clit and i have purchased an anal diolatar set and have been training my asshole nownmy pussy to strech out. i also have a dilod that I use to penitetrae my pussy on and get use to building up the sensation and tolerance to the friction my pussy can take.  It's hard doing it solo and not having the motivation from another to keep training on a regular basis. Sometimes I hit a wall and don't feel like continuing. It makes me feel more feminine and sissy like. The end goal being only able to cum or orgasm through anal means. While still being locked in chasitity. Currently I'm on day 60 in chastiity and on my 3rd sized diolatar plug. Some times I fall asleep with it still inside me. 

Master's Writings Fundamentals: What Turns You on is Good & The Struggle Against Social Norms Far too often I find individuals hung up on their internal permission to lean into what turns them on. They’ve discovered this or that excites them, but due to baggage from social norms, upbringing, or who knows what prior learning or pressures they experienced in their lives, they struggle to allow themself the space or freedom to explore this desire more fully. It tends to lurk in the realm of things taboo, and frequently causes them feelings of shame, guilt, or a need to closet this part of themself off from the world and hide. I was chatting with a submissive the other day, who was struggling with a kink, they clearly found exciting, but felt immense guilt each time they approached it. They were essentially stuck in this tug of war between internal acceptance and desire fulfillment of this new found pleasure. This causing significant anguish emotionally as well as guilt for liking this new thing but knowing it was “wrong” somehow. As a person and as a submissive, they were seriously struggling with this both as a person and as a submissive. I believe there are some fundamentals that I believe are core to this conversation, both for them as well as for others who struggle similarly: Note: I will preface all of the following thoughts with the limitation that I am referring to pleasures, fetishes, kinks and actions that are consensual and safe for all involved.   Life is short, enjoy it however you can. I recognize this is a hedonistic view of things but life can be hard at times, I believe we should find pleasure and enjoy it wherever we can. What feels good, turns you on and brings you joy should be enjoyed. Pleasure is a very personal experience and as is the internal permission to allow yourself to enjoy the sensation. Seek out those pleasurable things and allow yourself to let them bring you happiness. Life is short. What turns you on is good and Social Norms are just other people’s opinion. Regardless of what that is. If it floats your boat, its a good thing. Never let anyone else tell you its not. Most of us were brought up with social stigmas around sex, gender, nakedness, and so on. We were taught by parents, church, media what is what is evil or wrong. Social norms, prejudices, stigmas, and things designated as taboo are passed on by others. We are brought up believing them and because of that, they hold power over us and they are hard to shake off. Yet, I believe, so long as it does not impact another person, you and you alone have the right to determine what is right and good for you. You hold solvency over your mind, will, and body. As soon as you can see feelings of wrongness, taboo, or evil, as opinions conveyed to you by others. As soon as you begin thinking, evaluating and choosing for yourself what is right, good and pleasurable, you will be ready to embrace “what turns you on is good”, and you will be open to far more than you could imagine. The journey of self discovery is an essential one. I believe discovering what you like and why you like it, is one of the beautiful journeys we get to experience as we enter the lifestyle. If we can maintain an open mind, open heart, and free ourself from feelings of guilt, shame, self judgment as we take this journey, we can learn more than we ever thought we could about who we are in life. There is an entire world out there of kinks, fetishes, aspaspects and combinations that may excite you, intrigue you, turn you on, or turn you off. Discovering these is a beautiful journey that goes far deeper than whether or not you like a thing. Understanding the why and the how, exploring what it is about a thing that speaks to you, brings a deeper understanding of who you are in ways you could never imagine. Learning Acceptance for others builds acceptance of self. As we discover our own likes and dislikes, we learn that what turns you on is not always what turns others on. Accepting ourself and our own personal preferences requires us to embrace the idea that YKINMKBYKIOK (Your Kink Is Not My Kink But Your Kink Is OK). Here in the lifestyle community, we don’t judge, don’t condemn, or shame what others enjoy, just as we would never want to be judged, condemned, or shamed for what we like. The vanilla world is full of instances of non-acceptance and persecution, but not here. Accepting others perspectives and desires as different than your own, helps you find acceptance for yourself, and is a powerful thing. When you can step outside yourself to see the struggle and understand it for why and why it is, you will be able to free yourself to understand yourself deeper and truly explore. To this submissive I spoke to, and others why may read this, I wish you a healthy, positive, and guilt free journey in the lifestyle. I hope you can embrace your pleasures fully and allow yourself to revel in them. As someone wise once told me, when you discover your “Freak Flag”, that truth you’ve found about yourself, Waive it high and proudly.

Some fellow in late Dec 2021 posted a Journal entry: "I see a still-surprising number of profiles which, in summary, go something like this:  'Fuck you in advance for wasting my time, because you are all fakes and losers, and also, I'm lonely and looking for someone, so please respond, but respond pretty fucking carefully.' " Rings true, but my own personal reaction to too many profiles (and more than a few journal entries on this site) can perhaps be summed up very briefly as: "What you say about others might well be true; but how you say it, speaks volumes -- about you." Gosh, that even rhymes, and with equal number of syllables.  On the positive side, it's a sort of Public Service Announcement, that "how it's said", alerting others (including even those of us looking just for friendship at this time) what style  to expect (sooner or later) if we make contact.

Noone Owes You A living In the last few weeks, I've learned a lot of painful lessons. Top of the list is learning that no matter how solid you may think something is, no matter how well built and diligently assembled you may feel it is, no matter how recently it's solidity was tested and found good and true, that something can fail with breathtaking speed. Literally here today, gone tomorrow. As a consequence, I find myself amazed that I STILL have to learn not to put too much reliance on one thing. We all need supports, we all need things and people in our lives that matter to us and who we matter to, but the lesson is that such things and people must, by virtue of necessity, be a plural. If we become too reliant on a single support then we run the risk that, should that support fail us then we fail with it. The collapse can be dangerous mentally, emotionally and physically because not only is so much of our structure built on that support, but there's not a huge amount left to work with when it's gone. So spread the load, don't put too many eggs in one basket and, whatever you do, don't put all the eggs in one basket. Secondly, and equally surprising that I STILL haven't learned it, is that as much as we want to be good for others and to show them love and support and kindness, we have to also do that for ourselves. We must remember to be an advocate for and believer in ourselves before we attempt to do those things for another. I feel this is for two reasons. Firstly, if we cannot be for ourselves what we seek to be for others, how much value does what we offer actually have in our own eyes? How can we offer ourselves to another if we don't think we have much value and, in truth, don't actually want or like our self? Isn't that basically re-gifting the shitty present you got for Christmas or a birthday, and if it is what kind of a way is that to treat or see either ourselves or the person we offer ourselves to? Aren't we essentially saying that we hold them in such high regard we want them to have something we don't value or like or have a use for? Secondly, assuming we do value our own love and support and kindness, we must always keep a personal stash of it just for our use. We must do this  otherwise we risk the damaging, diminishing effaspects of someone taking those valued parts of ourselves and, instead of giving us the best of them in return, suddenly deciding they've had their fill and they're moving on. We are left not just lacking in the resources we need to function in their absence, but also knowing that we only have ourselves to blame for assuming that just because we wanted the best for them doesn't mean they're obliged to want the best for us. And if they did once, we have no right to assume they will continue to do so just because we want them to. The third lesson is simple; people change, and nothing changes people like other people. We are all dynamic, constantly evolving and constantly discovering new places we want to go and new people want to be with and new people we want to become. And if that holds true for others then by definition it can and should hold true for us. We are not who we were, we are not really who we because really we're just constantly becoming who we will be. In the face of that, stability is an illusion and the only person we can and should truly depend on is ourselves. Everything and everyone else is temporary in our lives. We are permanent. And the last lesson is a cliche. If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it doesn’t, then it was never meant to be.

  I'm the girl you've been thinking aboutThe one thing you can't live withoutYeah, I'm the girl you've been waiting forI'll have you down on your kneesI'll have you begging for moreYou probably thought I wouldn't get this farYou thought I'd end up in the back of a carYou probably thought that I'd never escapeI'd be a rat in a cage, I'd be a slave to this placeYou don't know how hard I fought to surviveWaking up alone when I was left to dieYou don't know about this life I've livedAll these roads I've walkedAll these tears I've bled So how can this be?You're praying to meThere's a look in your eyesI know just what that meansI can be, I can be your everything I can be your whore!I am the dirt you createdI am your sinnerI am your whoreBut let me tell you something babyYou love me for everything you hate me for I'm the one that you need and fearNow that you're hooked, it's all becoming clearThat all your judgments that you placed on meWas a reflection of discoverySo maybe next time when you cast your stonesFrom the shadows of the dark unknownYou will crawl up from your hiding placeTake a look in the mirrorSee the truth in your face So how can this be?You're praying to meThere's a look in your eyesI know just what that meansI can be, I can be your everything I can be your whore!I am the dirt you createdI am your sinnerI am your whoreBut let me tell you something babyYou love me for everything you hate me for Oh whoa ho, oh whoa ho, oh whoa ho I am the dirt you createdI am your sinnerI am your whoreBut let me tell you something babyYou love me, you want me, you need me! I can be your whore!I am the dirt you createdI am your sinnerI am your whoreBut let me tell you something babyYou love me for everything you hate me for