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.

An evening, recalled by the lady, written by me.It was late afternoon and it had been a tough day at the Commission. His kiss when he met me at the station was warm and affectionate; we chatted on the way to the hotel and as we checked in. When we arrived in the room I dumped my stuff on the bed and went out onto the veranda to look out over the lake. A few minutes later I heard him say ‘come here please’. I turned to see him with an impassive look on his face and standing in the middle of the room pointing at the floor just in front of his feet. He took hold of me around my waist and as he kissed me deeply, his hands travelled from my waist down my hips and across my bottom. Then up my back to my neck and then he felt my hair. He murmured ‘give me your tongue’ and I slipped it between his teeth. He nipped it and held it between his upper teeth and tongue. It was uncomfortable but not painful, he had done it often before and I had grown to like it. His hands resumed their journey around my upper body. They were firm, confident and moved without any hesitation. I could not have ed even if I had wanted too and the welcome feeling of melting inside began. He then released my tongue, kissed my lips then he turned me around and bent me over so my elbows were on the bed. He lifted my skirt and folded it over my back. His hands then roved freely over my bottom and between my thighs. He felt my mons, traced the line of my slit and ran his fingertips between down the crease between my buttocks, pausing to press on my anus. He then held me firmly against his thigh and began to spank me- this had recently become a regular beginning to our time together. One spank per cheek, then two, then three, they landed on my upper thighs and the curve of my bottom. He stopped at six and spent a few minutes gently rubbing my bottom, occasionally slipping his hand between my thighs. At ten per cheek it was stinging a lot. By twelve I was having difficulty keeping still. It was the knowledge that if I moved he would start again that kept me in position. The spanking was not unexpected and it had the desired effect. I felt myself starting to melt inside even more as he rubbed my stinging bottom and thighs once again. He stopped and made me stand. Then looked me in the eye, and then said ‘I have a few issues to resolve with you’. My stomach took a lurch, I’d been here before, he had shown no sign of real annoyance with me recently but then he never really did. He took me by the chin, looked into my eyes and said ‘strip and kneel’. He then turned and went to the veranda. It only took a minute to remove all my clothes and jewellery. I knelt, apprehensive about his return, embarrassed it had been a warm day; I had been wearing tights and had not had the time to wash and prepare myself for him. My make up had gone and I knew I did not look my best. He returned and pushed me forward to my knees and elbows. Pulling back my hair he locked my leather collar around my neck. It felt strange after the long break since I last wore it. The wrist cuffs were fitted next before he clipped them behind my back pinioning my wrists. He pulled my collar by its short leash to make me kneel up and then buckled a gag around my neck and pushed the red ball behind my teeth before tightening   it. He turned me so my back was to the mirror and placed a low backed chair in front of me. He could now see both the back and front of me. Sitting on the chair he told me to part my thighs wide and to emphasise the point his foot nudged my knees wide apart. I hoped he wasn’t going to touch me between my thighs as he so loved too, I so regretted not taking a shower immediately we arrived in the room. From his pocket he took some butterfly style nipple clips. I hate them and he knows it, he threaded their chain into the ring at the front of my collar and after pinching my nipples between his thumb and forefinger to make them fully erect he clipped one to each nipple. The discomfort was almost unbearable, I instinctively closed my thighs, and he ed and gently tugged the chain, sending sharp jolts through me. I did as I was told and spread my thighs wide, pushing my mons forward as far as I could. The gag muffling my weak protests. He spoke slowly, jerking the chain on saying each word. ‘Three weeks ago you forgot your make up, two weeks ago your stockings, last week your high shoes. You have arrived in my company wearing tights for the last 4 weeks, hence the immediate spankings. You have not kissed or greeted me properly on meeting for the same length of time. You make up today is poor, your hair isn’t brushed and you have not left your pubic hair as I instructed. In short young lady you are marring your beauty. You are fully aware how beautiful I think you are and you are distracting from it by being sloppy and that disappoints me. I will not accept you detracting from the pleasure I take in having such a desirable woman as my lover. Do you understand?’ I nodded, my eyes starting to water from the discomfort in my nipples and the realisation of how I had disappointed him. There was also the knowledge that I had been here before and if it followed a similar pattern then this was the case against me. By nodding I admitted my guilt. So I was about to punished for being a sloppy and inattentive submissive who had disappointed her Dominant.  He helped me to my feet by lifting me by the collar on my ring; it also had the effect of tugging on my nipples. He reversed his chair and tugged the chain as he removed each nipple clip. It stung as the blood filled each nipple, my knees almost buckled each time, the gag muffling the g. He then connected my wrists cuffs in front of me, and bent me over the back of his chair so my weight rested on my elbows. ‘Part your legs’ he said, I complied and hoped he would decide to have me, not cane me. I was to be disappointed, though recently spanked I accepted I had earned this too. He fetched a cane from his bag as I waited anxiously. Holding the back of my collar he rested the cane against my bottom, drew it back and struck me. ‘One‘ he said. All I did was hear the sound then the harsh sting reached my brain! He was using the flat cane.  A piece of flexible wood two feet long, an inch wide and a quarter of an inch thick. It didn’t leave tram lines or scars; I knew its stinging would last for ages and leave a square red mark on each buttock, but it would not bruise very much. Not that it seemed important at that moment. Though I find the cane painful, the thonged whip he occasionally uses is worse. Its thick strands inflict weal’s and their tips can get into the most intimate parts of my body. I’ve also known him use it on my breasts and belly. Each cane stroke went slightly lower until the last 3 all struck where the tops of my thighs and my bottom met. My legs kicked out from the stinging, by now I had dribbled spittle around the gag, my eyes were streaming and my nose had started to run. He let go the back of my collar and returned the cane to his bag. Returning he pulled me upright by my collar and turned me to face him. I refused to look him in the eye; I must have looked a real mess. He took my chin again forcing me to look into his eyes. I felt so ashamed of my appearance. He had told me I was beautiful so very often and it made me feel so proud when he said it. Now I had let him down by being too complacent. He unclipped the wrist cuffs, reattaching then in front. He said ‘Do you understand what I have told you?’ I nodded. ‘Then get down on your belly on the floor and spread your legs, I haven’t finished with you yet.’ My mind raced, would it be the whip now, on my bottom? I knelt and lay on the floor, my bottom was really stinging and the carpet was rough against my sore nipples, my belly and mons. I spread my thighs wide, dipped my spine and waited. I heard the pop of a tube of lubricant being opened. It wasn’t the whip!! The lube felt cold against my anus as he applied just enough. He undressed, I could feel him looking at my prone body, the line of my sex and the rose of my anus. I was fully exposed because it was how he wanted me to be. He knelt between my thighs and pumped his cock to make the head larger. He spread my bottom cheeks with one hand and pressed his cock against my anus with the other. The tip entered me, it was so uncomfortable. I had forgotten how tight a caning made the cheeks of my bottom clench. He pushed into me, stretching me. I struggled and tried to object; he held me and reminded me of the presence of the whip. Once he was past the muscular ring I relaxed as the discomfort subsided somewhat; I felt the cool of his skin against my hot bottom. He reached and took hold of my hair and collar, pulling them back. At the first slow thrust he said ‘one’. The thrusts were slow and firm, they made my bottom sting though my anus soon adapted to the presence of his cock. He told me to squeeze my buttocks together as he withdrew his cock, and relax as he thrust in. I tried to do so; each time I failed he added two extra thrusts. He was punishing me and reminding me of his dominance by not taking pleasure from the stimulation my anus could give him. It was a reminder that sexual pleasure could not be an excuse for a lack of submission. It was a relief when he reached 100 and stopped counting and thrusting. I was glad he was no longer forcing my nipples against the rough carpet, and his tummy was no longer making my sore bottom sting more. But I immediately missed the closeness and intimacy of the man I so wanted yet had disappointed. He pulled me to my feet by my collar, removed the ball gag and lifted my chin. I must have looked a real mess as I worked my jaw to stop it aching, I certainly felt a mess and I promised him and myself not to let my appearance or behaviour slip again. He kissed me and said he loved me; I’m not sure if it made me feel any better- or if it was supposed to! He led me by the arm into the bathroom and told me to wash his cock and balls. I took a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I looked horrendous! Mascara running, the marks of the gag around my mouth, spittle around my chin and collar and my nose running! I looked away ashamed as he wet a towel to clean the lube from between my buttocks. He turned me around so my back was to the mirror and rubbed the wet towel firmly between my buttocks, it stung where it touched the red marks.  I heard him say, ‘You have 30 minutes until dinner. Be ready on time.’ I knew that I would make him the proudest man alive when he let me take his arm to dinner. 30 minutes wasn’t long. But I so wanted to see that look of desire in his eyes that I would ensure I was just as he wanted me to be. I knew just how good he would make me feel in return. He went to the veranda to watch the sun set. I set to work, though I did sneak a look at the red marks on my bottom. They made me feel strangely proud because they were his marks and I had submitted to him. He had put them there and there was nothing I could have done about it even if I wanted to. Now I didn’t know what he was going to do with me later, but after being disciplined he always had something special planned for me! 

Having spoken to you for a few weeks now, we understand each other. Our face to face meeting is at hand. I know what motivates your need to serve and please your man. In the vanilla world, you have confidence - or at least a veneer of confidence you maintain - but internally you feel yourself unsure, uncertain and that sometimes you just want to run away. I pick you up, dust you down with warm encouraging words, embracing you as you feel the strength of me and know I give you care and comfort. I know you. I know your thoughts, I know your experiences and I know what you need from me. I know your hard limits and the agreed safe signals.  We share a strong connection already. We have an emotional bond and an excitement between us as we plan to become a unity, planning our homelife and talking about our values of partnership and family together. I value your intelligence, your feminine elegance and your utter submission to me, only me. Your devotion, loyalty and eagerness to please whilst still maintaining your vanilla pride and confidence - I respect that and appreciate those qualities. You enjoy the guidance I give you, my mentoring, the boundaries that I give you and my affection.  Soon, you will arrive. We have discussed this many times. We know what to expect of each other, and yet, there is still that excitement. I hear footsteps approach my front door ... 

“I am Me. In all the world, there is no one else exactly like me. Everything that comes out of me is authentically mine, because I alone chose it -- I own everything about me: my body, my feelings, my mouth, my voice, all my actions, whether they be to others or myself. I own my fantasies, my dreams, my hopes, my fears. I own my triumphs and successes, all my failures and mistakes. Because I own all of me, I can become intimately acquainted with me. By so doing, I can love me and be friendly with all my parts. I know there are ects about myself that puzzle me, and other ects that I do not know -- but as long as I am friendly and loving to myself, I can courageously and hopefully look for solutions to the puzzles and ways to find out more about me. However I look and sound, whatever I say and do, and whatever I think and feel at a given moment in time is authentically me. If later some parts of how I looked, sounded, thought, and felt turn out to be unfitting, I can discard that which is unfitting, keep the rest, and invent something new for that which I discarded. I can see, hear, feel, think, say, and do. I have the tools to survive, to be close to others, to be productive, and to make sense and order out of the world of people and things outside of me. I own me, and therefore, I can engineer me. I am me, and I am Okay.”

051126 WOMEN POWERFUL WOMEN HOW DO THEY EXIST? WHERE DO THEY COME FROM? WHY ARE MEN SO AFRAID OF WOMEN IN POWER? MEN TREAT WOMENS POWER AS A NOVELTY, A SIDE SHOW, OR SOMETHING NOT NORMAL. ALL MEN, OWE ALL WOMEN THE RESPECT DESERVED OF A HUMAN ON EQUAL FOOTING. CREATED IN THE IMAGE OF GOD. TO GO SO FAR AS TO STEEP THE VERY MEANING OF GOD INTO MASCULINITY.  SOUNDS VERY MAGA TO ME AND OH SO LAST CENTURY. DO NOT CONFUSE TRUTH WITH BIAS.  I LOVE HUMANS AND GIVE THEM THE RESPECT THEY SHOW ME. POWERFUL WOMEN WHY ARE MEN SO AFRAID OF WOMEN OF POWER? PERHAPS BECAUSE DEEP DOWN MEN UNDERSTAND THAT WHICH THEY HAVE CREATED... A HIGHLY EVOLVED SOCIAL CREATURE WHO SPECIALIZES IN PSYCHOLOGICAL WAREFARE.   FOR CENTURIES WOMENS POWER HAS BEEN REDUCED, DIMINISHED, AND SHACKELED WITHIN SOCIETIES, LEAVING THE MOST OPPORTUNITY FOR EXPRESSION AND GROWTH THROUGH CUNNING AND THROUGH MANIPULATION. POWERFUL WOMEN, TRULY GLORIOUSLY BEAUTIFUL POWERFUL WOMEN ARE HONEST, SINCERE AND TRANSPARENT. POWERFUL MEN, TRULY GLORIOUSLY BEAUTIFUL POWERFUL MEN ARE HONEST, SINCERE AND TRANSPARENT. SEE A THEME? EQUALITY AND INTEGRITY.  HUMAN RIGHTS.  ALL HUMAN RIGHTS.  I WILL GO SO FAR AS, EVERY LIVING RIGHT.  BUT LETS NOT GET AHEAD OF OURSELVES AND INCLUDE THE BIRDS, THE BEES, AND THE TREES...MAN IS LOOKING LIKE THIS DAWNING IS A BIT FARTHER OUT AT THE MOMENT. LETS TALK ABOUT, CELEBRATE AND BREATHE DEEPLY OF THE POWERFUL WOMAN. SHE KNOWS WHO AND WHAT SHE IS AND ACCEPTS HER DIVINITY AND SUBMISSIVITY TO THE DIVINE, OWNING THAT TRUE CONTROL IS WITHIN. PRESENCE. POWERFUL WOMEN DO NOT SEEK REVENGE. IF MEN, ALL MEN WERE NOT AFRAID OF WOMEN, THEY WOULD DEMAND TO ENCODE A WOMANS RIGHT TO CHOOSE AS FEDERAL LAW.  THERE SHOULD BE MEN IN THE STREETS, CONTACTING THEIR CONGRESS, DEMANDING TO BE HEARD. INSTEAD MEN ARE PERMITING ATTROCITIES TO BE COMMITTED AGAINST A BEING BECAUSE THEY SIMPLY DO NOT HAVE THE PHYSICAL STRENGTH TO FIGHT THEM.  TRUST THAT IF WOMEN WERE PHYSICALLY STRONGER THAN MEN THAT THEIR WOULD BE NONE OF THIS RAPE CHIT, MOLESTATION, AND RIGHT TO LIFE CHIT. YET WHY DO MEN SHOW THEIR HAND SO WILLINGLY THAT THEY ARE SO ENTIRELY UNEVOLVED AND FEARFUL?  PERHAPS THE REASONING AS HOW TRUMP BECAME PRESIDENT... 60% OF AMERICANS READ AT A 6TH GRADE LEVEL. OR AS GUMP SAYS, STUPID IS AS STUPID DOES. FRIENDS, ITS OLD.  YOU ARE OLD IF YOU BELIEVE WOMEN ARE NOT ONLY YOUR EQUALS BUT THAT RECOGNITION OF THEIR DIVINITY IS THE THING THAT IS GOING TO SAVE YOU... BECAUSE...IT TAKES TWO TO TANGO AND YOU WONT BE HAPPY UNTIL WE ARE ALL HAPPY.  PERIOD. THUS YOU ARE HOLDING YOURSELF BACK BY NOT ACKNOWLEDGING WE ARE ONE AND WHAT YOU DO UNTO US YOU DO UNTO YOU. PAIN SUFFERING AND DENIAL. ITS WHY SO MANY OF YOU ARE TRYING TO TRANSFORM AND WHY SO MAN OTHERS ARE SO RIGID. YOU ARE AFRAID TO LIVE IN YOUR TRUTH.  

A Master takes away his slave's free use of time. Her time no longer belongs to her. She rises in the morning when instructed, and her use of time is at Master's will. She will work at what Master orders when he tells her. If she works outside the home, she is expected back at a certain time, her time belongs to him. When she eats, sleeps, perhaps uses the bathroom, when she does her chores, and when and if she has leisure is not for her to decide. Her time is not her own. If Master calls her to his side, she goes, no matter what she was doing. Her time is not her own, it belongs to Master. When you take away a woman's free use of her time, it no longer belongs to her, but becomes Master's time. I think there is no more powerful psychological experience than that of not owning your own time. Physicality: The experience of one's body as one's own. A slave's body does not belong to her. She is instructed on how to wear her hair, whether and how to use makeup, when to be clothed, and in what clothing, and when to be naked, how to care for her skin and nails. She can be stripped and inspected at will. She is denied free access to her own pleasure. She may not masturbate without permission. She may not climax without permission. She may not take irin for a headache without permission. She has sex when, how, and with whom her Master decides. She must bear whatever pains are inflicted upon her. She has no right to say "no" to the use of her body. After a time, her psychological reality becomes "my body no longer belongs to me." When you take away a woman's free use and handling of her own body, it no longer belongs to her, but become's Master's property. It is a powerful shock that first moment a woman recognizes that her body is no longer her own. Privacy: We free beings are used to the right to privacy. We close bathroom doors. We perform our ablutions in private. We would prefer to be left alone when we are ill, perhaps, or cranky, or not looking our best. We hide the evidence of our menses: flush the tampons, wrap the used napkins. We take our deepest fears, our most intense angers, our illogical primitive emotions and hide them from others, lest they turn from us in disgust or fear. We note our dreams in morning and consign them to the dream ether from whence they come; they disturb us and we wish to forget. A slave has no right to any of that privacy. There is no private space in which a slave can hide from Master, either literally or metaphorically. She may not close a bathroom door. If Master wants her to experience her lack of privacy, he may choose to intrude upon her bathroom functions. She may not hide her fears, her angers, her emotions, for when Master intuits she is astir, he will be in her face until she opens them to him. When a woman has no privacy, neither physical nor psychological, she no longer owns her space, her external or internal space. When you take away a woman's privacy, she no longer owns her internal or external space, her very essence belongs to Master. We can see why this takes time. It takes time because one must repeatedly, consistently, doggedly take ownership of a woman's time and body, and strip her of the right to privacy. And it's no wonder there is resistance along the way: it's not only willfulness that must be addressed, but resistence out of fear when a woman begins to be transformed, when she feels her ownership of her time eroded, her ownership of her body stripped away, her privacy gone. A woman enters this process a free agent, comfortably familiar to herself, and is truly transformed. She becomes something more beautiful then she ever thought possible, she becomes a slave

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

I don't know when I'll update my main profile, so here's a little about me: I was born in 1974. My hair is much longer than in my pictures here. I rarely initiate contact, but usually respond. I am open to online play, though would love something irl. I will send newer photos upon request. Also: == Results from bdsmtest.org ==  100% Rope bunny  100% Degradee  95% Masochist  95% Submissive  89% Pet  84% Exhibitionist  71% Switch  61% Rigger  60% Degrader  58% Experimentalist  52% Brat  49% Vanilla  46% Voyeur  44% Non-monogamist  42% Slave  42% Ageplayer  41% Sadist  35% Owner  33% Dominant  32% Primal (Prey)  15% Master/Mistress  13% Daddy/Mommy  6% Primal (Hunter)  5% Brat tamer  0% Boy/Girl   

Service person I was out walking along the board walk that runs in front of my condo along Puget Sound. This mile long walkway is busy with pedestrians many with their dogs getting their daily exercise in a rather spectacular setting: delightful. Anyway, most all one might encounter are vanilla types or if they are into D/s not ‘out of their particular closet.’ Most are older with various infirmaries, but, ambulatory. Many have dogs that are poorly trained. Dogs that jump at passersbys or are otherwise ill trained. Occasionally, there are service animals providing protection, direction and confidence to their owners. Rarely, there are guide dogs seeing for their blind wards. Behind me, as I walked, trialed, one and one half step and slightly to my left thank you, my slave property. it walked, as it should, with its eyes focused on my heels with its mouth firmly shut. When I stopped it stopped, as it should maintaining its distance and focus. I was stopped by a chatty elderly woman, vanilla no doubt, that wanted to engage in ‘pleasantries’ for her, no so much for me. Anyway, I put some effort into agreeing it was a beautiful day and dog owner should be more careful to pick up after their mutts etc.  Breaking my boredom she asked, “and who is this with you?” It then dawned on me what her reason probably was for interrupting my walk.  “This is a service person in training.” I said without prior intent or particular consideration for all honest things in my life.   “What in the world is a service person?” she demanded. “Well, (have you noticed how much BS is started with ‘well?’) there are people in the world that have various chronic afflictions that need careful monitoring. Everything from sleep walking to certain types of epilepsy to cardiac conditions etc. Some people have combinations of these afflictions. Although dogs can be trained for some situations training a dog for combinations gets impossible. And so, humans of a certain type are trained to the task.” She was not particularly impressed with my creative explanation, although I confess I enjoyed it a lot. “So what do I call you?” she addressed my slave. Now it knows it does not interact with others without my express permission. So, it looked at me with the ‘what do i do now’ look. “You will have to excuse my trainee for not responding. Just like the service dogs you might encounter, it (I did slip up with that ‘it’ she was vanilla after all) needs not be distracted by attention from others. You know like petting or talking to it (oops again).” With that I continued on my way with slave in trail. As I walked I was designing T shirts that proclaim service person in training for it and service trainer for me or some such variations. Anybody know where I might get T shirts custom printed?    

Feeling lonely and empty without a daddy. It’s been too long since I’ve had one, it seems. Someone who cares for me. Wants to know if I’ve had my tea, eaten, taken meds, etc. I wish I could hear soft kind beautiful words from him. That I’m his. I’m pretty. I’m such a good little girl for him. There is no substitute for him

Too many people say they want an FLR when what they really mean is, “I have a fantasy I want you to perform for me.” A Female-Led Relationship is not a shortcut to kink. It is not instant authority, automatic discipline, or a woman becoming your personal manager because the idea excites you. This week’s blog post breaks down the common mistakes people make when asking for an FLR — from leading with fantasy, ignoring her needs, rushing authority, confusing service with performance, and expecting rules without accountability. If you want a woman to lead, begin with respect. Then prove you can listen. Read the full post:  https://www.tlduncan.com/post/common-mistakes-people-make-when-asking-for-an-flr

Secret Room "Of her naked body this: that he had never seen anything so beautiful." -Lindsay Hall, Sea of Hooks (My mission is to get you all to read this book)  

Maybe God puts someone in your life to figure yourself out, Having a slave for the household would be a dream, but it takes weeks for even each other to see each other. unless their pussies and play the get some mmm and get out game? but let me tell you. I am 36 years old and i was on here on Collarme, I remember the hours at nights where I chat with Doms, Sirs, subs, females males, and just fascinated. Yes my husband and i have hit a really hard time but maybe me taking the time to find a slave would be ideal and let him do his shit while we try to work on marraige, now a lot of you would say NO Go work on that, but see that was the trouble, I tried to do everything I can not anymore. I dont have time to take years to get to know somoeone who wants a Domme, who is kind loving and pushing toward wanting someone who is along those lines but also wants some humilation and and punishment when needed. Dream to live in the country with my household and look onto the mountains and grow old and have my slave or slaves male or female service my household. I can not tell the future, but someone will grow to love this chit Chatty Domme who Loves to be called Misses and Mistress when it suits her, the driffrence is in the words slaves. Also TPE is a must and be prepared to use your mouth. and your hands.  Mistress Nat

I can't believe it's been more than 6 months since my last journal enrty... Let's get started with my usual public declaration: I am subMeghan. Right now, as I type this, I am completely nude wearing only my glasses and my dog collar... Recently I've been playing around with ChatGPT and for fun, I asked ChatGPT to write a blog entry for me about BDSM collars. Afterall this is COLLARSPACE.com!!!! Here's what ChatGPT wrote.  I was impressed!  What do you guys think?   Welcome to SubMeghan's Picks, a blog written by Meghan - a woman who loves BDSM and experimenting with different types of collars. Collars are a popular item of BDSM gear and can be used to symbolize ownership, humiliation, and control. In this post, I'm going to discuss five different types of collars and the pros and cons of each.  Dog Collars: Dog collars are my favorite type of BDSM collar. They are typically made of leather or metal and are often decorated with spikes or other adornments. Pros of a dog collar include the fact that they are durable and can be used for a variety of activities. They can also be used as a symbol of humiliation, as they are commonly associated with animals. Cons include the fact that they are not adjustable and can be difficult to fit properly. Spiked Collars: Spiked collars are a great way to add a bit of edge and danger to your BDSM play. Pros of a spiked collar include the fact that they are adjustable, making them easy to find the perfect fit. The spikes can also add an element of humiliation as they can be used to cause pain. Cons include the fact that the spikes can potentially break the skin if not used properly. Leather Collars: Leather collars are a classic choice for those who want to explore BDSM. Pros include the fact that they are adjustable and come in a variety of styles. They are also a great way to add humiliation, as they are often associated with animals. Cons include the fact that they require regular maintenance to keep them looking their best. Choke Collars: Choke collars are often used in BDSM activities, as they can be used to control or restrict a partner. Pros of choke collars include the fact that they are adjustable and can be used for a variety of activities. They can also be used as a symbol of humiliation and control. Cons include the fact that they can be potentially dangerous if used incorrectly. Posture Collars: Posture collars are designed to restrict the movement of a person's head and neck. Pros include the fact that they are adjustable and can be used to force a person into certain positions. They can also be used as a symbol of humiliation, as they restrict the movement of the head and neck. Cons include the fact that they can be difficult to fit properly and can be uncomfortable to wear. No matter which type of collar you choose, it's important to use safety practices and to discuss expectations with your partner before engaging in any type of BDSM activity. With the right precautions, collars can be a great way to add a bit of excitement and humiliation to your play.   Until next time... subMeghan

My next series of workshops will be at Exxxotica, Chicago  April 11-13! Dont miss my workshops or a chance to meet me!  My next play event is coming up!! Spring Fling and Strapon Things will be held in NJ.  Those interested in further details for these events may respectfully Inquire via message with the first word of your message to read EVENTS.

Warning: This is a long rant...So I got my first really nasty message today regarding my political leanings.  He called me an ugly ignorant cunt among some other choice words that I don't even remember now. Funny thing is I am a cunt but I don't consider myself ugly but, of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  To each his own.  I don't expect to b everyone's cup of tea.  To this coward (he blocked me before I could go off on him lol)  I will say that insults like these tell me more about you than about myself.  The fact that you blocked me tells me you're probably a baby incel living in your mother's basement. This is all well and good when you're in your 20's but beyond that makes you pitiful. You were well over 30 ad clearly need to get fucked. To anyone else out in CS land I will say that you don't need to show me your ignorance by attacking my political beliefs or my physical appearance.  It's pretty fucking clear to anyone with at least one brain cell that this orange imbecile and his band of ass lickers are destroying our democracy in the worst dumpster fire this country has ever seen. We;re a laughingstock of the entire world. And just when you think he can't possibly do anything worse than he's already done he goes and does a few more detrimental things to the American people.  That inclues you ignorant repugnicans! You're worshipping a moron and you can't even see he's fucking with you, too!  Now that's what I call IGNORANT!!! In ending I will say that I'm glad this asshole showed his ass to me today because it gives me a chance to rant.  My final words are if you don't like my politics you need to scroll right because I don't want to know you anyway and it saves me the trouble of asking, unless of  course you're dumb enough to wear your ugly red maga hat in your profile pic. 

These writings are my thoughts. They're neither right or wrong simply what I think and feel. Everyone is entitled to their own opinions; Submission evolves just like everything else. However, we fundamentally stay the same. We have that deep need, want, desire to serve.  I believe a Dominant will build a submissives confidence. He will build her up and show her how strong she is because He is confident in His Own Dominance.  Anyone can Own a doormat. Not everyone is capable of Owning a strong minded, confident woman.  Ultimately the submissive doesn't have to bow down to every Tom, Dick or Harry just because they call themselves a Dom. You do not have to address them as sir or master or any other title. Submission should be earned through Mutual Respect, Trust and Honesty.  Like any relationship it takes time to get to know each other. The deeper the bond the deeper the submission. I do think as a submissive we should try to conduct ourselves respectfull. When lucky enough to be Owned we need to be mindful that we are a reflection on our Owners.  Before a submissive is Owned they hold their power in their hands. They owe it to themselves to be strong and ask questions. Remember when you submit you are putting your life in that persons hands. Do you both want the same things?  Yes of course you want to be led out of your comfort zone but, you want to be as safe as possible.  Always remember to have a safety call set up when you meet someone for the very first time. Listen to your gut. If something feels off then trust that feeling. Don't feel pressured into accepting things that don't sit right with you.  Most of all enjoy this beautiful lifestyle and stay happy and safe 👌🏻

Submissive men are sexy. Period.   It’s a damn shame how many don’t realize it—thanks to a society (and yes, even parts of the kink scene) that tells them they’re not desirable. Newsflash: I don’t Dominate because I hate men—I Dominate because I desire them. Deeply. I crave their surrender, their effort, their devotion. A good submissive man? Baby, that’s my kink.   What turns me off? Entitled dudes who slap on the “submissive” label just to demand kink services like I’m some drive-thru McDomme. Sorry, but barking orders while calling yourself a “sub” just makes you a bratty top with boundary issues. Gross.   And let’s talk about the trope that Dominant women have to look like leather-clad porn bots but aren’t allowed to actually enjoy sex—especially not with submissive men. Um, what? I like sex. I like desire. And I like submissive men who know how to bring both respectfully.   So here’s the tea: I’m not here to play out broken porn stereotypes. I want real, respectful power exchange—where male submission is honored, not humiliated. If you think submission means weakness, you’re not ready for a woman like me.   And female supremacy? Cute in porn. But in real life? Power is about character, not genitals. Respect is sexy. Submission is sacred. Get into it—or get outta the way.