i'm always in a very weird place in my spaces on earth. in every sense of the word i'm 'in the worlds but not of it'.   when i connect with my mermaid and water being feminine people and try to befriend them and socialize, i'm often come across man hating retroic. men ain't shit. kill men. a mermaid would never be with a man. if you are wanting to be married by a man something is wrong with you. a mermaid is never meant to be tamed. brimstone and fire.   probably partly because of my virgo rising and partly because of my priestess nature i can't relate. in my heart of hearts how i approach romantic and sexual framework with men is  in a perfect world a sacred slavery mentality. honor, worship, respect, reverence, and deep feminine care and caressing and holding is how my dream is in my heart and my mind. in a perfect world i am always claimed by the mother ocean, but she is holding place and will hold my hand off in divine union and marriage to my master husband. this mermaid knows in a perfect world in my heart of hearts the divine masculine which would in a perfect world translate to a man in real life on earth in the flesh owns me heart, mind, body and soul. and it tends to express that most men that have attempted to date me tend to be on a soulmate level, some things die hard and my soul is built for a deeper cosmic way of loving and fucking than what most superficial people see.    in a alternative space group i saw a whack ass man proudly show his bdsm tools like a big inflated ego boy in a group that is clearly not just 18+  probably wanting some ego stroking saying just had a good session. it got lots of comments. i'm sure some womens panties were fulfilled by that. i looked at it as true goddess of devotion on a deeper moment. session? how does that translate to your world. your life. you packed it up and you closed it out. what about your next breath, your next step, your next hand hold, your next eye stare..the next intent of the energy you speak to her. how does your session carry out in your 24/7 lifestyle of devotion servitude mastery and slavery? dominance and submission? you can only hold it for  a session that is good and requiring or preferring some tools to achieve that ecstatic level of pleasure and absolute sinking into each other. that's cute. but what about the end goal, complete devotion and union. or is it just for a quick dopamine run and back to being vanilla lower cylinder working engagements between each other and life goes on. because if not we all know while in a perfect world it would include financial, cohabitating, family future planning generational security stability community elevating discussions between both parties as a power couple of house if it's multiple people involved......it doesn't have to be and can go on without cohabitating, without the legal contract change...though i still don't understand why most men want to own women but don't have the balls to legally take her as property and change her name to seal the full deal. so many come across, i haven't thought about that, there are ways of doing it without getting the law involved, we don't need the governmental intuition we have to operate under to know she's my property as long as it's in our hearts it's ok...always comes off as a cop out to me. but i know everyone is built different. tools can be fun but it's just like yoga, in the west anasa is so popular because we don't know how to get still inside to get to the real higher work of the various limbs of study and practice. and still doesn't have to be sitting, meditation is also dance movement and action. it's a stillness in the mind.   some of my dark goddess sisters both of the sophia original source encoded soul that are different copies of my own self....or others with a different original divine feminine soul encoded on them(sophia isn't the only form of the divine feminine, it's just WHO i am...so what MY mission is...MY journey..MY teachings...and my lived path to walk) continue the man hate. men deserve to die. nwords ain't shit. fuck a guy. i hate men.   i can't relate.   i've never had a man in real life protect, provide, or care for me. i've been in clubs by myself and have drunk men try to hug me, touch my arms, rub  up on my breasts and inappropriate get in my space. i've had to push men off  one, two, three, four times very visibly public. i've had to say loudly no, more than once. no bouncer at the clubs come. none of the men in the vicinity that can hear me(my voice is loud and piercings and energetic and many a person has said i talk too loud naturally) and they don't break from their girlfriends, wives, friend groups to come over and say stop bro. or to say are you okay? or is everything alright. they stay on the sidelines watching as i the dark goddess have to rise to protect myself.   i've dated men who see when i'm out and about other men try to approach me that i'm uncomfortable with and they've laughed it off, making me rise to the challenge to assert myself i'm with a guy and even if i wasn't this invasion of space is inappropriate.    i've been through so many daddies that want to inappropriately harness my overtly sexual little girl with no promise of provision, protection, guidance, care, and structure that the daddy dominant is supposed to provide. i've had them break me so much i've wanted to die when that carrot stick of the ultimate romantic mix of nurturing and strength and slightly sinister love gets taken away.   i've been assaulted in that way and when i told the man i was dating at the time, instead of being a righteous archangel michael divine masculine encoded self asked what was i wearing, what was i doing maybe i did something to provoke it. when i go through the questions and ask for them to come over to hug me, to reset my body my nervous system, to heal me from what their brother did and get myself reacclimated to what i have always known in my heart of hearts to be what the real masculine the true masculine is..i was rejected but he loved me.   and on and on...i have every experience to join the men ain't shit nword ain't shit kill men.....and i'm just not wired that way.   even recognizing the world isn't perfect, and that i wasn't born to be on the regular track where men in reality come to my rescue, show up for me, open the doors for me, hold me, watch me, make sure i'm okay, provide the stability, structure, care and support of just a regular vanilla way or an elevated power dynamic way....i don't' waver from the mission of 5d.. a higher cosmic love and union..i don't waver from the truth i've been seen.   there's the sauce of real life...and then there's the truth of what is beyond in the ethers.   and in the eithers.....i'm so divinely cared for and protected, cherished and loved. while the men in reality cannot hold the energetics of the transformative fiery goddess i am that will require them to constantly level up, to grow, to face their fears, be called out on their mistakes, be pushed to elevate, grow, emotionally stretch, touch feelings they could hide and side step from everyone else, and to always be tracked and seen energetically, spiritually, emotionally, mentally.....the divine form is always here.   and so while it's not a perfect world, i am incapable of losing the respect, the reverence, the worship, the care, the holding, the deep sense of devotion to the man in spirit. i don't have to receive a gift on a date,  i don't have to be asked out on a physical date, i don't have to have the door held open, i don't have have dinner paid for me, i don't have to receive an engagement ring, i don't have to re

We've gotten a few questions, people asking for more info about me dating the Trump supporter. We're still dating! When Kamala entered the race, I teased him a few times about losing to a woman and he'd always make it a point to tell me later (when I was tied up or bent over or otherwise had him inside me) that November wasn't going to change anything for me, that I'd still be fucking him on Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, Valentine's Day, basically anytime he wanted. We don't get too into the details - he's not super politically engaged and it's actually kind of upsetting to think about the state of the country, and how rights are being taken away all the time, when I'm in a relatively privileged position and choosing to indulge in this kind of play. A few people asked how we met. We're in the same grad school program and he's always starting arguments about politics and "how come people don't just get a driver's license if they want to vote so bad", that kind of thing. I'd always jump in and push back, and he told me later that he liked getting me riled up. He said he liked seeing me flush and get upset and try to convince him of things when he didn't really care. We chatted a few times before classes and he'd be incredibly forward so he knew I was married, knew I wanted kids, made a few comments if I wore a choker or a fashion collar. After class one night, my car battery was dead so he came over and gave me a jump. We were the only ones left in the lot so while we were standing outside in the dark, he slid his hands in the back pockets of my jeans and pulled me against him. I instinctively reached back and he trapped my hands and held them behind my back while kissing me, jamming his tongue in my mouth. I blew him in his car and we made plans to go out that weekend. He's pretty rough and he loves being in charge. My husband will buy all sorts of bondage toys and I'll take them to the cop's apartment and that's where they stay. He keeps bondage straps on his mattress, has a spreader bar that he straps my hands and ankles to, has all of my favorite ball gags and blindfolds and plugs. He's also incredibly respectful, in his own way. He doesn't push limits we've discussed and I've gotten him to say things like "do you want me inside you?" which is as close to consent as he's interested in, but is still a huge deal. I let him take pictures of me tied up and naked as long as he obscures my face. I know men always show their friends and there's always the chance he revenge porns me if we break up, and he totally understood without arguing. He said he hears about that at work from teens and he knows it's a huge problem. Last story - he had me tied up recently, wrists and ankles on the spreader bar, gagged, a black hood over my entire head. Then his doorbell rang and he let in one of his buddies. We had discussed before that I was open to other men but I wasn't going to let them fuck me without protection. And here I was, ass up in the air, a stranger carassing me, unbuckling his belt. I started whimpering and wiggling my fingers. I was starting to make our safety signal when I heard him say "dude, condom, come on." I'm not going to say chivalry isn't dead but it made me feel good that he wasn't like "huh huh huh just fuck her in the ass huh huh huh." I gave them both a hell of a ride in gratitude. And to answer the most common question, no I'm not pregnant yet!

He placed a small locked case on the table. "One more step," he said calmly. "Not because you have to—but because I want you to understand what surrender really feels like." I looked at the case, my pulse quickening. It wasn't the object itself that unsettled me. A chastity device.  It was what it represented: giving up control, trusting someone else, and committing to the journey I'd begun. "You can still say no," he reminded him. After a long silence, i nodded. He explained the rules. The device wasn't a punishment; it was a symbol of discipline, patience, and intention. If i chose to wear it, the decision would be respected, and either of us could end the exercise at any time. As the lock clicked shut, i felt an unexpected calm. The moment wasn't about humiliation. It was about crossing another threshold, leaving behind hesitation, and embracing a side of himself I'd hidden for far too long.

I need to update my profile here, long overdue. My profile that is currently posted, is one that was written when I first join CS. Since then, through the years of properly being mentored, learning, and maturing in the lifestyle, my outlook and perspective on the lifestyle has changed greatly. Over the years, I have learned that the lifestyle has much more to offer than just kinky, hurtful play and sex. People who have that mentality, do not really take time to appreciate and cherish the finer aspaspects of having a submissive or slave that puts herself out there just to please others. Although my current profile states what I'm looking for, doesn't really mean that I have the improper attitude. My attitude has greatly changed, and if you take the time to learn more about me or others that inquire into your profile, you might find a hidden jewel in this rubbish heap on this site. I, as a Master, is not into this lifestyle for the kinky sex, but for it to greatly enhance the relationship, to make it strong, safe, to enhance growth in each other, make each other grow and be fulfilled. Most importantly, I desire and will make my submissive or slave feel appreciated and cherished in everything she does, and to give her that balance of the vanilla and lifestyle is important. There are other aspaspects that go along with the relationship that are just as important as well. This might give the impression that I'm not a strict Master or Dominate, for I can be strict, but fair, and generous as well. I'm a laid back easy type of guy, but I'm observant and knows whats going on. I'm not a pushover by any means. Whatever you do, don't judge a book by its cover.... you might lose out on a jewel!

How many of us find the treasure we've sought for so long?  How many of us give up and just accept what is in front of us?  How many of us are truly sincere and willing to kiss a few frogs  while trying to find our kinky slave or the pearl.   Someone suggested I should put up a picture and that My feed would blow up.  That's not what I want.  Let's be real, the one or two or three I want may not be here, it’s like finding a needle in a haystack. Lol I'm sure there is a more up to date analogy.   Yet we persevere hopeful for a meaningful connection.  They are few and far between, but on ocassion we meet someone, strike up a conversation and even a friendship.   Where is the boy you want to beat when frustration is high?  Where is the slave You want to kneel and do whatever You  command? Where is the man you want to rub Your back and have a meaningful conversation with? it's a dichotomy, can you find both in the same individual or do You have a stable of eager boys ready to serve? Time to find what's right for Me!  The search continues.  Goddess

Newbies and their b.s about not wanting to go out in the real kink scene with reply as: A munch has no play, it's a drink in a pub. At a fetish club you can watch, you don't need to play, instead chat to other kinksters and familiarise yourself with the kink arena. If you feel the need to be discreet thrn you are likely cheating = no from me. Join Fetlife to chat in discussion groups if you wish to remain online. There are "roleplay" groups for Fantasy "play" = not my thing. I think my reply is clear. Experienced Submissive and Slave guys only who drive and go to munches and fetish clubs is what interests me.  Just because a newbie wants an experienced Dominant Woman doesn't mean he access to my time. I RULE me.

I have, in the past 6 months, been messaged by 2 different men who had something about raceplay in either their messages or in their profiles.  Allow me to be perfectly clear: any racial slur, race play, homophobic slur, misogyny, or domination from any aspect of supposed genetic superiority is a limit.  I grew up having various slurs directed towards myself, family, and friends and they are a quick way to have me block you. I mean the following in an honest and non judgemental way: if you have those desires, I would encourage you to look into your personal history and see why you have those desires or urges and honestly discuss them with a licensed professional.  It is often a product of internalized hatred towards yourself or others through no fault of your own.  Talking with a professional will help you to a much happier place where you can feel more comfortable with yourself and others. BUT, do not send me messages with any form of racial, transphobic, homophobic, or misogynistic slur in them.  It will lead to me immediately blocking you and reporting the message.  Having anything about race in your profile (other than your own) will result in a short message and me blocking you.  You are only harming yourself and it's a hard limit for me.  Consider this your one and only warning.

Master's WritingsFoundations: Commanding vs LeadingI came across a Dominant who appeared to miss understand the difference between leading and commanding. A thing seen too often in the lifestyle, where these two terms become red into one, yet for Dominants they should be viewed as quite different.Command is a singular act at a specific moment in time. A direction given to another to do something and when that thing is done, the moment is over. There is no longevity, no lingering emotion or sense of something larger. Command exists to accomplish a specific thing at a specific moment - nothing more.Leading, on the other hand, is a process that cannot be accomplished in a single moment in time. It is more about a direction than a specific action and as such requires vision of the goal as well as awareness of the individual. It involves motivating, developing and inspiring people into action. Leading requires both the skill to communicate and the presence of a leader to identify the goal and describe the path how to get there.When command and leading become interchangeable, they typically devolve into commands strung together and submissives running to accomplish tasks, under the pretense of leading. Even though sometimes these tasks have legitimate value in the development of a submissive, in the larger scope, they miss the mark because what gets communicated to the submissive typically lacks the values, principles, and/or underlying lessons that connect the submissive to the dominant or to the lessons to be learned.So is one better than another? They are the equivalent of a scene compared to a dynamic. Commands are adequate for a single scene, yet commands will never provide the foundation for a power-imbalanced dynamic. For this, Dominants must lead and lead with vision of what they intend to create, clarity of roles, a sense of purpose about why even the little things matter and the commitment to live path they set forth, committing to the same level of quality they expect from others.

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

The Binder: On Wanting Things Unapologetically I have been thinking about want lately. The specific texture of it, the way it sits differently when you stop apologizing for the size of it and simply let it exist at full scale. I was raised, as most women are, to want carefully. To want reasonably. To frame ambition as gratitude and desire as practicality and to generally keep the whole operation small enough that no one feels threatened by the outline of it. I am done with that. The Binder exists because I am a woman who plans, and planning requires honesty about the destination. So here it is, plainly, without qualification: I want my dream home. Not a reasonable approximation of it, not a compromise that checks most of the boxes. The actual one, with the particular light in the particular rooms and the space that finally matches the interior life I have been carrying around in a series of spaces too small to hold it properly. A home that looks like me. That is the entire requirement and it is not a small one and I refuse to shrink it. I want work that deserves me. I have spent enough time being competent inside structures that were not built for someone like me, doing it gracefully, doing it well, doing it without making anyone uncomfortable with how much more I was capable of. The next chapter looks different. I am finishing my degree with the same intention I bring to everything: completely, on my own terms, and as the foundation for whatever comes next rather than a box I am checking for someone else's benefit. I want Japan and I want Zanzibar and I want the specific feeling of being a woman who moves through the world with enough ease and enough resources that distance stops being a reason and becomes simply a coordinate. I want to stand somewhere I have never stood and feel the particular expansion that travel produces in a person who pays attention. I want more of that, regularly, starting now and not eventually. And I want to be married again. To someone who understands, in their bones and not just in theory, what it means to belong to a woman like me. Not a partner who tolerates my nature or finds it interesting from a safe distance. Someone who meets me in public as my equal, carries himself with the kind of presence that makes other people straighten up slightly, and comes home and kneels. Who wears my marks the way some men wear medals: privately, permanently, with the specific pride of someone who earned something real. Who worships not as performance but as orientation, the way a compass points north not because it is trying to but because that is simply what it does. I want all of it at once. I want it unapologetically and in full. I want the dream home and the passport stamps and the letters after my name and the man who undoes me at the end of a long day by completely undoing himself first. The Binder is where I keep the map. This is me, reminding myself that the destination is real, that wanting it loudly is not arrogance but clarity, and that a woman who knows precisely what she is building is already most of the way there.   The rest is just time.

I am NON-BINARY and I use They/Them/Blue pronouns. ALL submissive candidates will need to c0mplete The F0rm. It's lengthy, it's personal, and it might require some thought on your part. It's a job application. If you want the job and the benefits, then it's worth your time and effort. If you cannot visit or meet within 6 to 8 weeks, then don't waste my time or yours. Come back when you're ready to serve.

    Desire fires: a machine gun Turning love to hate. You could never Be my mate... Tears fall, heart aches. i poison myself Day after day till  Pneumonia hits In ways You never did. Grief buries feeling, As i cleanse, Breath by breath, Coughing sadness Till life deceives, yet i defy death And hate, For God knows As i let go In prayer, love feeds What love makes.   6/14/24    

I used to love whoring and slutting around. There wasn’t anything quite as fun as finding a new cock to play with – I was always thrilled at how fast I could get a guy hard and how hard I could make him cum with my mouth or my cunt. Fucking was the only time I felt genuinely confident in my 20’s. A lot of that came down to Kevin. I belonged to Kevin (on and off) for over a decade. He was my first D/s relationship, and his primary focus and kink was whoring me out. He loved having me be an absolute filthy fucking slut for him, and the confidence and power I felt in that role over time was incredible. Through him, I learned how much power a woman could have in herself by submitting to her own sexual desires. It wasn’t just that Kevin loved having me be a whore (as much as I wanted to think that was my sole purpose at the time), I fucking loved sex and I loved the attention and desire I felt from men in those moments. I loved the strength and confidence I gained from their desire; it was a strength that lasted a lot longer than the encounter did, that’s for damn sure. I didn’t need their reassurance or their attention after. I didn’t need them after, period. I got my reassurance from Kevin. His praise and enthusiasm for my behavior reinforced the strength that I gained and reinforced my confidence in my skills. I didn’t have shit for confidence walking down the street or walking into a party to be around strangers, but the second I was presented with a hard cock, it was Game. Fucking. On. THAT I knew I could handle with perfect confidence, grace and skill. And I fucking relished every moan, groan, sigh, gasp, and trembling muscle from the man I was with. In my 20’s, I was somewhere around 340-375lbs. I didn’t really get on a scale very often, so I honestly don’t know how much I actually weighed. What I do know, is that it was Kevin who taught me that my size didn’t preclude me from being desirable. When I moved to “the big city”, I had the opportunity for basically unlimited male attention, which was a first for me, having grown up in the middle of nowhere Nebraska. Kevin encouraged this exploration, but also gave me very distinct rules and boundaries (he’d more than learned by that time that I had no idea how to establish, let alone maintain, my own boundaries). He made me go to Planned Parenthood to get my birth control shot. He “gave me permission” to tell guys to fuck off if they didn’t want to use protection for sex; I could ‘blame my Owner’ if they were at all hesitant. Having all this attention from all these different guys, never having to go more than a few days without sex if I didn’t want to, god – it was fucking incredible! And in the background, was Kevin, telling me what a fantastic little whore I was. When it came to being with Kevin, it was an even bigger reassurance. He told me once, during a moment of extreme insecurity, “I don’t give a shit what you look like, Lisa. What I care about is control.” I knew I could give him that better than anyone, the question was, did he actually mean it? The short answer is, abso-fucking-lutely. When my stunning beauty of a roommate (who’d played with Kevin over the phone and online multiple times) joined us one night, I figured it was going to be game over for us. She was a knock-out compared to me and way better at everything sexual than I could ever dream of being. He was choking her with his dick and she freaked because he wouldn’t let her control the pace or how far down her throat his cock went. She jumped up and took off out of the room to go smoke a bowl and calm down and he called me over. Despite her naked self standing mere feet from him, perky ass and tits on full display, he was totally soft. The second I put his dick in my mouth and let him choke me to his hearts content, he was rock hard and having the time of his life. She eventually came back to the kitchen table where he was sitting while I sucked him off, and I remember feeling an unbelievable surge of pride as he praised me, telling me what a good girl I was, how much he loved choking me and making me cry, how pretty my tears were. And when he finally came in my mouth, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that for some men…it really is all about control. And I was officially hooked. That was all I wanted from that moment on, and to a large extent, it’s still all I want. Especially when it comes to any type of D/s dynamic. I don’t fucking care about the sex, whips or chains…I want the man who gets rock hard simply because I love to obey, to give up as much control as possible. I want the guy who gets off leaving me a list of chores to do in the morning and is way more turned on by me having completed the whole list plus some, then having to “punish me” because I failed to do those tasks. I want the guy who’s dick goes soft because a girl tells him ‘no’ (and he would never dream of pushing her beyond that ‘no’), but he gets hard as steel, instantly, because where someone else says ‘no’, I say ‘yes please and thank you’. I don’t need gymnastics and props…they can’t do anything nearly as good as a hand in my hair and a deep voice whispering in my ear.

just surviving a heart attack puts a lot into perspective, currently off work while they get my blood pressure under control. So far it's been 2 months since I ended up in hospital following the heart attack. There's only me now that my wife passed away a few years ago. We got into the lifestyle together both being dominant in our other relationships and so we went to munches, kink events and exhibitions. We'd watch the rope training, suspension bondage and anything else that took our fancy. We were approached to start training submissive's initially just fem identifying and fem gender, but it progressed to subs/sissies and febboy/girls. They would live-in with us and train, kind of a course and they would leave with a certificate back to their owners. Since she's passed, I've done it a few more times on my own keeping up the training. But the heart attack made me realize that when they leave it's just back to being me on my own again. Which i'm now seeing as sucks lol.

 recently met a vanilla guy that had been a drug addict for more than half of his life. He has been clean for 5 years. This is information that was shared with a perfect stranger within the first 5 minutes of conversation. (I appreciate the upfront honesty, but damn.) From what I learned about him, he was easily swayed by previous lovers and enjoyed being a "doormat." Without knowing My kinky hobbies, he disclosed his desires to be owned by a Dominant Woman.qIuestioned his ability to be involved in a kinky lifestyle relationship without it being totally draining on the Domme. Although I wasnt even going there with this guy, the last thing I want is a overly needy person in my life.Has anyone else run screaming from someone that just oozes insecurity and extreme neediness?How long would someone with an addictive personality actually be able to make it in a kinky relationship with YOU?

Really annoyed that my profile is now blank. I updated it two days ago, only changing my age and the date listed at the bottom as the last time it was updated, and yet there is nothing there, now. Here is what it should say:   I am not currently looking for a relationship. I have decided that I need to take some time to work on myself before considering pursuing another relationship.I am happy to talk to people, but please be respectful.  I am a geek, a gamer, an artisan, and a mom. I am not interested in anyone elses fetishes. I do not care if you are horny. I am not here to help anyone get off. None of my pictures are less than two years old. I no longer look like I do in them. I am slightly thinner -- I think I've lost about 50lbs since the most recent of these pictures were taken -- and my hair is about six inches long all over as I work on growing it back out after shaving it all off to an inch long. Updated February 28, 2024

SLOW AND EASY   Looking for the strength and depth of penetrative flow   A kiss that melts me and opens the faucet of pleasure and warmth   Your hands run over my body and I feel your intent of premeditated lure   The arch of my body signals you to proceed   Enter I crave you with every breath   Thrusts of euphoria and the pounding of waves allow me to erupt    COME ON SHOW ME MORE!!  

Dark Chocolate can be an exotic flavor  So creamy and smooth, you desire a taste  The aroma is inviting The visual draws you in and puts you on your knees I see you salivating so eager to please  I pull you closer and utter the words breathless and moaning "oh my goodness, stay right there!" You're such a talented pet and you know ho w to please

For whoever needs to "hear" this.. It’s easy to feel uncared for when people aren’t able to communicate and connect with you in the way you need. And it’s so hard not to internalize that silence as a reflection on your worth. But the truth is that the way other people operate is not about you. Most people are so caught up in their own responsibilities, struggles, and anxiety that the thought of asking someone else how they’re doing doesn’t even cross their mind. They aren’t inherently bad or uncaring — they’re just busy and self-focused.. And that’s okay. It’s not evidence of some fundamental failing on your part. It doesn’t make you unlovable or invisible. It just means that those people aren’t very good at looking beyond their own world. But the fact that you are — that despite the darkness you feel, you have the ability to share your love and light with others — is a strength. Your work isn’t to change who you are; it’s to find people who are able to give you the connection you need. Because despite what you feel, you are not too much. You are not too sensitive or too needy. You are thoughtful and empathetic. You are compassionate and kind. And with or without anyone’s acknowledgment or affection, you are enough.  

He Heard the Bells on Christmas DayShe waited for him by the door. He was working late today, and he’d promised they would have their celebration when he got home. Just having him there was all she wanted, all she needed. He was her star that guided her and she loved showing her appreciation for his gifts.Her cheeks were cold. The red teddie didn’t cover her ass. It didn’t really cover her size DDs that hung over the top either. The white fur trim was fun, playful and she did like the way it felt against her pale flesh. She was wearing jingle bells around her ankles and she played games with herself to see just how still she could be while she waited by the door for him. How long could she stay like that and not hear the bells? She waited, her ass in the air, legs parted slightly, breasts mashed against the floor, her head down, positioned in a way she knew he especially liked to see her. Open. Available. Waiting for him.  She heard the car approach, the sound of it in the driveway. She inhaled. The door opened. She twitched. She felt dampness roll slowly down the inside of her thigh and the bells jingled as she shook in anticipation of his arrival. The door shut, the sound of the locks engaged, his footsteps approached the door. She could barely stop of squirming. The damn bells jingled and she silently cursed herself. Had he heard? She held still and listened. Where was he?Her mind drifted to thoughts of him. He was always in there with her. She never felt alone after she’d met him and he’d consumed her mind. It started friendly, but without realizing it, she found herself always thinking about him. He didn’t demand things, they just talked, but she found herself wanting to do things for him. Slowly, he’d moved in her head and she’d stopped feeling lost.She never heard him come up behind her. He’d caught her off guard. His gloved hand muffled a slap across her bare, pale ass cheek.  And then another one. The bells jingled with each impact. She closed her eyes and pictured his face. He must have come in the back way.  She heard his wide, shiny belt slide from its place on his waist. He smacked one cheek and then the other, his gloved hand rubbing the now hot flesh vigorously.  His hand dipped into her pussy, the glove soaking up some of her wetness. He chuckled. She resisted the urge to press back against his hand. Sometimes he’d let her grind against him, sometimes he’d let her cum that way, but not tonight. He’d not said a word yet, she had no idea yet what presents he had in store for her.    His hand slid up her wet slit, and in between her cheeks. Another slap of the belt while a gloved index finger probed her tight opening. The fabric scratched her, she winced, the jingle bells sounded as her body shook. He pressed a bit harder, her sphincter resisting the pressure, and he smacked her ass again with the belt. She yelped, he knew there were tears in her big blue eyes now. He also watched her back relax, he gave her the chance to inhale and then exhale slowly, and his finger was slowly pulled into her.He dropped the belt, and leaving his index finger snug inside her, his other hand undid his pants. His cock was hard now. She quivered with anticipation and the sound of the bells came from behind them. He rubbed his cock up and down his wet cunt’s slit, it had become his game to toy with her, to see those responses that generated the wetness and to see how long he could make it last. Helped take his mind of the drudgery of work.  Toys were his specialty, but his favorite toys were warm and wet, they wanted to please him.She felt the roughness of the glove rub against her muscle as he pulled out, but then, almost immediately, she l of his cock slide inside her. He filled her and she loved having him inside her ass as much as her mind.  He paused, then grabbing her hair like reins, he pushed himself even deeper. His body smacked against her and the bells jingled. He could still feel the heat of her spanked cheeks, and it felt good as he held her cheeks against his thighs, pulling her head back, his cock flexing inside her ass.He kept up the grinding, the thrusting. She’d push back on him, and he’d wrapped her hair around his fists to hold onto her bucking tighter. She’d clench on his cock and he would sigh as he felt the tightness she worked so hard to provide for him. He finally released himself inside her and slowly pulled out, letting go of her hair and letting her drop to the ground. His boot kicked at the inside of her knee softly though. He wasn’t done with her. He reached into the bag he’d brought in with him and placed a cold, metal butt plug in her ass. The plug had a ruby red stone in the base and it slipped in with only a slight resistance as some of his cum was pushed out to make room. The bells jingled as he tapped on the stone set in the base. Just one more of her buttons…He reached into his bag, and he pulled out another gift for her… walking slowly around to stand in front of her he whispered “up”. She did so slowly, her ass very sore from his attention, the plug filling her even as much as he did. He bent down slightly and placed a steel, locking collar around her neck. Her tears didn’t flow this time from pain or happiness that was pleasing him. He’d given her such a wonderful gift and the small liquid drops ran down each cheek. He chuckled again and wiped them away.He bent down this time very close to her ear and said… “I wouldn’t be so happy just yet… I’m wondering… how do you think you’re going to cum tonight without making those damn jingle bells jingle?” He laughed harder this time, and clipping to the collar a leash he’d also pulled out of his bag, he led her to his bedroom.   

"I Read Your Profile." No, You Didn't.  Let's start with the obvious question you already know the answer to. Why lie about something that takes two minutes to actually just... do? I get a lot of messages that open with some version of "I read your profile and I'm very impressed." Cool. Except that profile STARTS with instructions, and you completely missed that. Then the very next line asks me something my profile answers in the first paragraph. Or uses a title I specifically said I don't use. Or pitches me a scene I specifically said I'm not interested in providing. So no. You didn't read it. You read the two lines your eyes happened to catch before you started typing your form letter, if that, and you slapped "I read your profile" on top like a receipt, hoping I wouldn't check it. I check it. Here's why that particular lie bothers me more than most people expect it to. It's not really about the profile. The first instruction in the profile is just the test. What you actually told me, in that one sentence, is that you are willing to lie to get something you want from me. That's the whole transaction, right there, before we've even said hello properly. You've handed me a data point, and the data point is: this person lies.   Congratulations, you've just told me everything I need to know about how the rest of this would go, and saved me the four months of finding it out the hard way. Submission requires honesty as the floor, not the ceiling. Not "honesty when it's convenient." Not "honesty about the big stuff, mostly." If you'll lie about something  that costs you nothing to just actually do instead of faking — what exactly do I think happens when the stakes go up? When it's "did you disclose this to your partner" or "did you actually take care of the equipment the way you said you would" or "are you actually okay, or are you just telling me what you think I want to hear so I don't get concerned"? You've already shown me your answer. You lie when it's easy. I have no reason to believe you'll suddenly develop a spine for honesty when it's hard. And look — I get it, it feels like a harmless white lie. A little social lubricant to skip past an awkward step. It is not harmless. It is the whole audition, and you failed it, and you don't even get to know that's what happened, because I just delete those.  Also: this person is too lazy to read. What else are they too lazy to do? Why bother asking you to do anything at all if this is the amount of effort you put in when you are supposed to be impressing me?   Now let's talk about the copy/paste. Calling this one out somehow makes people insanely defensive, which tells me it's landing exactly where it should.  Because its fucking insulting as hell.  What should be obvious about sending the same message to a dozen different Dommes- we know you're doing it.  I have more than one profile. I talk to enough other women in this community to compare notes. I can watch the exact same "I've been so impressed by you and would love to serve you" arrive in my inbox, word for word, from the same guy, sent to a profile of mine that specializes in feminization and a profile of mine that's looking for a household service sub for me and my partner. Two completely different things. One message. Sent to both. And my buddy who specializes in hardcore sadism? She got the same one.   It tells me you think I'm stupid.  And it tells me you don't actually want me. You want a Domme. Any Domme. You don't care who.  You are not writing to a person, you're writing to a gratification source, and I just happen to currently occupy a slot in that list. I could swap myself out for any other woman with a similar photo and similar bio and you would not notice, because you weren't paying attention to who I specifically am in the first place. You were pattern-matching "Dominant Woman" and hitting send. Hell, you aren't even concerned enough to realize it literally impacts your own safety- physical, emotional, and potentially financial. You aren't discerning enough to bother finding out if "Pretty femme picture #104" has any idea how to safely do the things you want done, or if they are going to cause permanent damage to … things you probably want to keep undamaged. Or if they are actually three racoons in a trenchcoat (more accurately, a bot, or most likely a dude in China running a credit card theft ring.)   I've said this before and I'll keep saying it because apparently it needs repeating: if you'll kneel to anyone who allows it, you're not kneeling to me. You're just kneeling because you like kneeling, and I happened to be standing there. That's not submission. That's a hobby you're trying to attach to whichever body will hold still for it.  Think about what it would take to actually write to one specific person. You'd have to read what she wrote, notice what she cares about, notice what she's explicitly asked for, and shape your message around her, specifically, because who she is matters. The skills I have learned matter. The values I hold matter. How I treat the people/partners/submissives/slaves in my life matters. If you want to be in my life, even for 5 minutes, it should absolutely matter TO YOU.  And before anyone whines —  I'm not asking for a five-page love letter. I'm asking for evidence that you know which woman you're talking to, and WHY IT MATTERS. That's the bar. It is not a high bar. Most of you are still tripping over it.  The short version, for the people who stopped reading three paragraphs ago- Lying about reading my profile tells me you'll lie to get what you want. Copy/pasting the same message to a dozen women tells me you don't actually want any one of us — you want a service, and we're interchangeable vending machines that might dispense it. Neither of those is submission-it's toxic male entitlement wrapped in an insult to our intelligence. Both of those get you deleted. Do the two minutes of actual reading. Write the one message meant for one person. It is genuinely not that hard, and the fact that so few of you manage it is exactly why the rest of you keep getting overlooked in favor of the one guy who did.  

In the world are many denominations all claiming to possess the accurate knowledge of the truth. However this is divisions. In 1 Corinthians, Paul appealed to us that we have no divisions amongst ourselves and instead that we all be perfectly united in mind and thought. One of you say, "I follow this" and another says "I follow that" and still another "I follow such and such". Is Christ divided? Yet I say to you, revelations has something against each church. I tell you when Christ unveils his church there will be many upheavals and sudden changes. The real church is nurturing, a good guardian like a parent teaching it's child right and wrong. Allowing for the true knowledge of what truly matters to God the Father and Jesus Christ. Allowing individuals to grow in grace and become one in Christ's image. Jesus said if you love him you would observe his commandments. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called and pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, and gentleness. 

Guys be like, “men are visual creatures.” Ok sir, than why do you look like that? Maybe a lotta fellas don’t have mirrors at home. I had to be honest with a male- co worker yesterday and explain to him that a lotta times the women THEY WANT, that don’t want them, might not be due to their financial status. A lotta times us women might not find you physically attractive (men never wanna consider this). Although your grandma and momma been telling you how handsome you are your whole life (they’re supposed to BTW) That doesn’t mean that women who you cross paths with on a daily basis look at you and think,“yea, I’d like to feel his penis inside of me, or be romantically involved with him”. This explains why it’s some not financially stable men that stay with a fine ass Boss Chick. Some men can get outta prison Tamar and be living with lawyer in her water-front condo & driving her Benz truck within a week. Women probably look at him and immediately get the, “oooouuuu shit affect” aka “a lady boner”. Believe it or not us women see fine ass men and can get erect too. Women’s erectile response is similar to men’s. Except internally, our clitoris swells like a penis. Our vagina’s become lubricated and expand in length and width. Some of you just don’t have the panty dropper affect on the women “YOU WANT”  As much as they talk about women, Many men haven’t kept themselves up. They don’t work out so they’re shaped like a bag of laundry, AND MY GOSH WHEN THE LAST TIME SOME YOU HAD A DENTAL EXAM?? And overtime this has disqualified them from the free coochie list. I know it’s hard to hear, but for some of you…THE WOMEN YOU DESIRE, don’t look at you and wanna F***.

Master's WritingsSadomasochistic Play and the Importance of ConnectionIt is too easy when participating in Sadomasochistic play of any kind, be it impact, pain play or any other of the associated fetishes, for the experience to become emotionally and even physically disconnected between partners - the Sadist becoming consumed by their connection to their tool (whip, cane, etc), the precision of their strikes, the technique used, and the masochist becoming lost in the enormity of the sensation, the loss of physical control as the pain increases and the anticipation of the next strike. As both become lost in their own world within the scene, it is easy to experience a loss of connection between them as the scene progresses.I find that maintaining or even working to build greater connection during such play is one of the most important things I can do as a Sadist and a Dominant. For me as a Sadist, who is also a Dominant and a Daddy, I find that there exists a uniquely rich opportunity to be a caring and connected Sadist, through physical contact, the use of voice and deliberate and careful observation that goes beyond the safety aspaspects during a scene are very important in changing a sadomasochistic scene from something done to the masochist to a shared experience that binds rather than separates.In all my play, regardless of the fetish, I seek to create experiences that enrich, nourish and build relationship. While not every scene or situation can accomplish these every time, they remain a goal I strive for whenever possible. 

So I'm at the gym today  I witness this tall white male with an extremely fit body in these light blue tights with a tiny tiny bulge it was giving squirrel nuts. Now that's not the issue! I watch him go and put all the weights he could find on to the leg press thingamajiig, and I mean it was filled to the rim (no pun intended) He lays flat on his back and lift the weights with his legs. Now here is where things got interesting. He just lifted the weight (that was obviously to heavy) one time and strained for at least 10 minutes. I mean not one single rep done. Veins popped out of his forehead and sweating like a hydrated crackhead. I asked my friend should I go ask him if he would like to come to my BDSM party because he must just enjoy pain 

Okay. Okay. I need to get some things off of my chest. Now that I have had some conversations, met a few people, I just want to say that I have standards and I would want my Dom to also be a person of standards. What do I mean by that? I make the effort to always be clean, smelling nice, looking pretty, etc. The bare minimum should be that my Dom takes some care of himself. I like when a man has taken the time to get a haircut,I like it when I can smell cologne on your skin, and after 11 years of trying to change a person, I realized that I indeed changed. We didn't want the same things and I got so tired of trying to convince someone to take care of themselveswhen I'm a fucking mess myself. Like, I need, absolutely crave Daddy but I haven't found him yet. If you're serious about something 24/7 and this is not strictly a kink for you, we might have some things in common. I've noticed some red flags one is that the people I was communicating with, they always want to be called Daddy and like, no. You're not my Dom, I don't know you like that, things take time to develop. Also, if you're weird, Do not bother. For example, I'm not into pantyhose and for one person, that was a deal breaker. Good. Keep that shit away from me. I'm trying to find my perfect match on every level. Also, I don't want your money, I have my own. It might not be a lot but I am not interested in any weird financial stuff. I'm trying to get my shit together in the real world. And all I want is Daddy. I don't think anyone understands how fucking primal that urge has become for me. But please don't come on too strong. Give me time. I'm thinking about a normal conversation here, then on text. Then the phone. Then a video call. You see what I'm doing here? Look if things went well maybe I fly out for a fun weekend. I don't know but I'm open.

It was a rough day for this new slave in training He was very willing and eager to please We started out with his oral servitude which happened to be very subpar I knew it would be because he had bragged about what an expert he was at using his tongue I had to get him to understand that a slave never brags about what he can do because that is not his place If I choose to acknowledge your talente in an area, I will issue that compliment and you may wear it as a badge of honor  The ultimate goal is for you to make me squirt and then drink and lick up every drop Are you going to be worthy pet for me??!!   

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

*** NOT LOOKING ***My main profile text is a little over a year old. Like most people here, I avoid updating the main profile because you have to have it approved all over again if you do. It's a profile, not an advertisement. I am happy with my existing arrangement for discipline. I'm not attracted to men at all, so your emails go straight to my Bulk Mail folder, which I only browse occasionally. Yes, even yours. If that seems harsh, it's because otherwise my main inbox gets flooded with unwanted approaches from blokes who don't read profiles and don't respect boundaries. I have occasionally accepted men for the disciplinarian role (as long as it is purely platonic) but I emphasise once more that I'm happy with my existing arrangements for this. You probably won’t get a reply unless you meet BOTH of these conditions (and even then it's not guaranteed): 1) use the magic word to show you have actually read this journal 2) catch my interest in some way that I like  Like I said in my main profile, I am not into the Dom/sub side of things. So if you approach me expecting to meet a slave or submissive, you're going to be very disappointed. It's just not my thing.  P.S. Guys, the new magic word is "tiger". This little test shows you have at least read this journal, so it should filter out a few of the idiots.    

I regularly get messages asking me what I consider edge play or what is an "extreme" scene that I have done. A few thoughts on this. First, and most importantly, my adventures are no one else's fapping material. I have met people off this site before, but that is more of an exception than a regularity. Sharing something like a story, which is very intimate, or a scene, is asking a lot right off the bat and is something that no one is entitled to. What is considered edge is going to be different for each of us? I am not here to one-up on someone or compare sausages. What is taboo to me? Having someone viewing another person on camera might not seem hardcore, but having cameras set up 24/7 to view on-demand is.  Going out to dinner may not seem hardcore, but my footing the bill can be edgy. Humiliating play may not be edgy, but when you consider mental health, it can be as sharp as a physical knife edge. If you are not on the same wavelength as I am, you will miss the subtleties of how sharp my edge is. 

Why I Use Copy & Paste for My Intro Messages on FetLife (And No, It’s Not Because I’m Lazy... Mostly) Alright, let’s talk about the elephant in the chatroom: yes, I use a copy-and-paste message when I reach out to people on FetLife. There. I said it. Now before you clutch your pearls or sharpen your pitchfork, let me explain. As a man on this site, I’ve learned a hard truth—we don’t exactly have inboxes overflowing with attention. I log in, check my messages, and... crickets. Meanwhile, women on here need a personal assistant just to scroll through the "Hi sexy" DMs they get in an hour. I’m over here sending out introductions like I’m applying for internships in the kink community. Let’s be real: the ratio of men to women on this site isn’t fair. I’m not bitter, but if FetLife was a nightclub, the dudes would be forming a line out the door while the ladies are getting free drinks and VIP bracelets just for showing up. So, rather than write a brand new, handcrafted message every single time—like I’m writing a love letter to Juliet—I decided to work smarter. Enter: my trusty, respectful, and not-creepy copy-and-paste message. It’s polite, genuine, and has better grammar than most Craigslist ads. I took the time to make it sound like me (charming and slightly awkward), and then I saved it—because ain’t nobody got time to rewrite it 30 times a week. If someone replies? Awesome. Now we’re in business, and I switch to actual conversation mode like a decent human. Is it a little formulaic? Sure. But it’s not cold or robotic. It’s just my way of getting in the door without burning out or typing until my fingers fall off. It’s like using the same pickup line at a bar—it might be recycled, but if it makes you smile and we start vibing, who cares?   Bottom line: I use copy and paste because it’s efficient, not because I don’t care. Trust me, if I’m messaging you, I’ve read your profile and think there’s potential. I just don’t think you need a custom sonnet to say, “Hi, I liked your vibe and would love to chat.”

Ok so I don't know but I have this vision in my mind of me serving  a strong woman she has silver hair and loves and expects me to be at my best and in my  dreams I do  in them I begin my day at the foot of her bed awakening before her to be able to prepare for her i wash and shower make her coffee begin her breakfast make sure everything is clean and straighten up before she wakes up I draw a bath make her toast and kneel at the side of the bed and slowly kiss her feet and up her body this normally wakes up her happy and refreshed but today seems different she simply lays on her back and says I have to pee I'm not used to this but I'm prepared I grab a towel climb on the bed between  her legs put the towel under me just in case and attach  my mouth to her she releases herself very slowly allowing me to breathe and swallow it's quite sour being her first of the day but I know from experience that this is what she wants and my best course of action is to drink her clean her and allow her to go back to sleep as I'm thinking this I notice the stream has stopped and she's pushing my head , she quietly  says clean me  and I run an fetch a warm washcloth I wipe her and she rolls over and says I'm still tired and would like to sleep turn off the shower and coffee and go do the laundry be back here at 8am and wake me up by massaging and kissing my back I expect the laundry to be done and I would like oatmeal instead of toast now I have my task and an hour to complete them    this is normally when I wake up with a raging hardon and I gotta admit I always feel a  little dirty like is there something wrong with me for wanting this type of relationship?       it's October and the submissve inside of me wants to be allowed out to play i do a pretty good job at surp them have for a few years now  But can I tell you how bad I yearn to be slapped smacked and spit on i really really love to be used and abused and honestly it's been too long 

Psst... It's secret time. Pinky swear you won't go and tell? I'm trusting you since we're journal friends. I follow two journals: 1. A delightful crotchety and humorous dominant man who shares brief opinions from time to time. He's clever and funny and doesn't really care what you think. I dig it.   2. An eloquent dominant female who shares song lyrics, poetry, and conversations over tea. She elevates this place. I would love to go into a used book shop with her.  Okay, here's the secret part where it gets a little weird. I do not follow but I look for two other journals. The first is a dominant male who I am pretty sure is certifiably mad. I won't officially follow him to ensure I stay off of his radar as a precaution- sacrificial lamb is not my kink. But you better believe I scroll the journals to catch any new entries.* The other is a dominant male who often posts. I think he is some sort of AI. Hear me out. All of the sentiments match to the point of being repetitive. With poor grammar. It's like riding a hamster wheel. Someone requested it, AI produced it, it was slapped in a journal, and there's a psychologist teaming with a scientist in the background monitoring to see who falls for it. I can't picture someone producing the same phrases over and over. Even the mad hatter doesn't do that. Has to be a bot.  No, I won't tell you who they are, don't ask. If you know, you know. And if you're the psychologist and scientist letting me know that I figured it out, do put a rush on that.  *My crotchety friend is also fascinated with the mad hatter's entries. I knew he was good people. 

A little poetry?  Sure, why not.   In realms where love unfolds its gentle sway, A man finds bliss in night and sunlit day. Within the dance of hearts, a truth revealed, In female-led embrace, his joy's congealed.   Beneath her gaze, a beacon burning bright, He revels in the tender, guiding light. Her strength, a fortress that he gladly seeks, In every whispered word, the solace speaks.   No tyranny, but harmony they find, A partnership where hearts and souls entwined. He cherishes the power she bestows, A union blossoms, like a fragrant rose.   Her laughter, like a melody divine, Resounds within his heart, a sweet design. Together, they traverse life's winding road, In tandem, love's enchanting episode.   She leads with grace, a compass sure and true, He finds his purpose in her eyes of blue. Her wisdom shapes their journey through the years, A symphony of joy, dispelling fears.   He revels in the kindness she bestows, Her love, a river, steadily it flows. He willingly surrenders to her care, In tender moments, love is everywhere.   No shackles bind, but freedoms they unfold, In her embrace, a sanctuary bold. A partnership where balance finds its place, He celebrates the joys of her embrace.   In shared delight, their spirits intertwined, He savors every moment, love defined. A male perspective on this blessed path, In her-led love, he finds eternal warmth.  

Using this instead of updating profile. Been away for a few years, just popped back to peruse, see if much has changed however this being a free site, will attract some very unsavoury characters who will be rude, obnoxious, abusive, intrusive, demanding and self entitled.  Go give your head a wobble if you approach  me in that manner. Being a northern lass, I am blunt and will say as I see it. I'm also quite astute, very independent, self sufficient and very happy to remain that way. I chose to have people in my life that do not bring drama, lie, gaslight and are narcissistic. Yes, I do have submissive tendencies however do not expect me to give it from the 1st contact, ask personal and intimate details and assume I'm a doormat. Respect is earned, especially from internet strangers. I can walk away from negative behaviour very easily, with the door shut firmly in your face. I have experience and knowledge of D/s. I live in one of the most beautiful parts of the country, West lakes. I have the sea, fields, mountains and hills for my view.  Sheep and cows for neighbours. The start of the lakes are a half hour drive away. I enjoy days out on my motorbike either alone or in a group when its not raining!  Anyway, those who are genuine, good luck and be happy.  Tara for now J

Hello.  If you are a truly dominant woman or couple possessing high intelligence and integrity, I have a situation that may interest you. This isn't just about play or BDSM, I am offering a very well compensated job, as well as a life and a jump in lifestyle. Please read it all before you decide.  I know telling you I am real and this is legit is a waste of time because all the scammers say that.  Notice that my spelling and grammar are correct, and it's not a ridiculous offer, but very reasonable to the right dominant woman willing and able to accept it. You can Google VA caregiver and VA caregiver stipend.  When you do, ONLY go to websites ending in dot gov.  Anything else is NOT a real government website, though they try to fool you into believing that they are. I'm going to keep this to facts, because you will either be interested and want more details, or you won't be and there is no need for more info.  Please read about me in my profile and journal. I just learned, that because of my cancer and my recent disability rating increase, I will almost certainly be eligible to have a live in caregiver.  The VA compensates caregivers really well.  I can't mention numbers but you can find them in those URLs.  You would basically be helping me around the house with things which are difficult because of my disabilities.  By September I should be past all the side effects of the radiation so I won't need all that much help.  Which means you could go to school or work another job.  I will not give you a free ride.  I will expect you to pay something toward the upkeep of the house.  I will loan you the money for a car if you don't have one.What I am seeking is a 24/7 domme to enslave me in a consensual non consent relationship.  Yes, that means you will need to relocate to Phoenix, AZ USA, because I can't relocate. I own a large, very nice home in a quiet, upscale middle class neighborhood.  But I'm only about 12 miles from downtown Phoenix. I don't want a soft domme.  At least not all the time.  I need a domme with very dark desires and cruelty.  If you are new to BDSM or your own dominance, I can teach you to explore your darkness, dominance and cruelty, which the politically correct BDSM community could not and would not.  So inexperience is not an issue for me.  Nor do I seek monogamy or constant attention.  I would serve only you and anyone you told me to, while you could live your life any way you want to.  You can have other slaves, bulls, whatever you want.  And you get me for a slave.  I'm not weak and useless or a total asshole like most other male subs.  I will actually prioritize your happiness because that will make me happy.That's it.  This is a description, not an offer.  We would not be able to start this until August at the earliest, so that would give us plenty of time to talk, work out details, etc.If you are interested, and by that I mean that if you like the circumstances, you will follow through and actually do this if we connect on that level, then write me.  If you know you are not going to do it, then please feel free to ignore this, and I hope you find what you seek.

Chapter one - Sweet Slave (Or, How it all Began). A story I wrote for fetlife.I take the bottle of wine from the fridge and pull the cork, giving it a little time to breathe. I dice the onions, and throw them in the pan. I like that sizzling sound they make... I add the spices, then diced chicken breast. I let it brown a little, before adding the coconut milk and putting the rice on. I get a text from you - you're on your way. I start dressing the table - a rose in a vase, a candle in a brass candlestick, nothing too fancy. I'm not the fancy kind, I don't want to give the wrong impression this early on in a relationship. If this works out, I want it to be for the right reasons. The doorbell rings shortly afterwards. You're smiling as I open the door and ask you in, you genuinely seem pleased to be here - pleased to see me. "I didn't know what else to bring," you say, handing me a bottle of red wine. I smile and kiss your cheek, then take you to the kitchen, where the meal is spread out already. You give me a coy smile as I pull out a chair for you to sit down. "This looks amazing." You take a bite. "You weren't lying, you really do know how to cook!" you exclaim. "This tastes amazing, my local takeaway could learn a thing or two from you..." you giggle a little as you speak. "Honestly, it's such a simple recipe, and I just add a little double cream, it gives it something extra," I say, glad that you seem to be honestly enjoying the food. I pour you a little wine and smile at you. "I'm really glad you agreed to this, I know it must make you very nervous," I say. "I haven't had much luck with first dates in the past. I don't seem to make a good impression until someone truly gets to know me. I guess that's why I wanted to chat online for a while before we actually did this." You smile and look down at your plate, pushing food around, then taking a bite. You glance up at me and smile again, blushing a little. "I'm very shy around people I like - you know, that way," you say. "I was glad you wanted to go slowly at first too." I smile back at you, a sweetness seems to wash over me from your direction. I'm a little enamoured by you already, but I dare not say that to you, in case it scares you off. Something inside me feels your submissive nature - your little glances at me, the way you hide your face partially with your silky hair. The way you blush when our eyes meet, and immediately look at the floor, smiling. I like it. I kinda want to growl at you, but that feels premature. We finish dinner, then we sit down to watch the movie we'd decided on beforehand. Amélie. We've both seen it before and loved it, but neither of us has seen it in a long time - so it seemed a safe way to spend a little time together. I put my arm around you and we watch the film, wonderfully quirky yet romantic, watching Amélie fall for Nino. As the movie ends, I find that you've wrapped yourself up in my arms and you're clinging to my arm, resting against me like I'm a giant teddy bear. You start sucking on my thumb... I look at you for a moment. I'm not certain what to make of this action. You turn to me and smile. "I'm... I don't know why I did that..." you say, looking concerned. I smile at you, letting you know I don't mind, and you smile back, relaxing visibly. I kiss you... You tense up and squeak, then let out a little sigh as you relax. I put my hand on your back and pull you closer, you put your arms around my neck in return, and we kiss - gently at first, but heat builds up between us and it's not long before we're kissing with a fervent passion. I push you down onto the sofa and pin your arms above your head, kissing you into the sofa. You moan and put your legs around my waist. I break the kiss and growl at you. You squeak again, then look at me like a naughty schoolgirl. You have the same thing on your mind as I do. I pick you up, carry you to the bedroom, and put you on the bed gently. I start undressing you as I kiss you, getting a little rougher with each garment tossed aside - until finally I tear your panties off and toss them who knows where. I rub your pubic mound in circles as I kiss you, teasing you, and you let out a little moan. I break the kiss and look into your gorgeous, sparkling eyes. You look comfortable, I see no fear in your eyes, just a naughty twinkle. "I have something for you," I say. I take a pair of fur-lined cuffs from my side table and I secure your wrists to the headboard. I pull your legs apart and I settle between your thighs, my face so close to your sex you can feel my breath. You have a buttplug in your ass, topped with a heart-shaped crystal. I rub it gently in circles for a moment, teasing you with it. "Oh, oh, I umm..." you start to say, but I lick your clitoris and you let out a squeal. "Oh, lordy, please don't stop..." you whisper, breathlessly. I lick your clitoris until it starts to engorge, then I start sucking on it gently. You squeal again, looking down at me, and we lock eyes as I pleasure you with my mouth. "I've never... No-one's... Oh, my god..." you say, seeming a little overwhelmed. I push a finger into you gently and you gasp, your breath hitching a little. "Please, please don't stop, or I'll explode," you say to me, eyes practically begging. I feel you open up and I push another finger into you, fingering you for a few moments before I turn my fingers upward, find your G-spot and massage it gently with both fingers. You hit the back of your head on the pillow repeatedly, then lie back and whisper "What... What are you doing to me??". It barely takes a minute and you're panting. I build up pressure on your G-spot, licking and sucking your clit with more enthusiasm. You start to roll your hips involuntarily, which I take as a sign that you're close, so I up the pressure a little more, watching you closely for signs I'm overdoing it - but you just squirm on the bed, eyes closed, rubbing your cheek against your arm and gasping. You seem to be trying to say something, but you're clearly too overwhelmed to manage to get your thoughts into some cohesive form. I feel you tighten around my fingers and your body shudders. Your legs tremble gently and you arch your back. "Ohhh... Oh my... My lord... OOOOH! OOOOH FUCK!" I smile. I know you're not big on profanity, so I take this as a very good sign. Moments later, you're smiling down at me, panting. You look at me with such affection that I think you're going to propose to me for a moment, but then you say "No one's ever done that to me before. Please tell me we can do that again sometimes, it was amazing". I smile up at you. "Only all the time, gorgeous. But now, it's my turn." I pull your legs up either side of your head and penetrate you gently. You immediately squeal out in pain, screwing up your eyes. I pull out. "I... I haven't... It's been a long time..." you say. I stroke your hair and push a finger gently into your wetness. You let out a sigh, and I finger you gently, slipping in another finger, then after a while, I feel you open enough that I can slip in a third. "You're extremely tight, gorgeous," I say. You look embarrassed. "It's nothing to be ashamed of, sweetie. I'm sorry I hurt you." "I... I kinda liked it..." you say. I look at you and let out an involuntary growl. My fingers come out of you and my dick goes in. You bite your lip and squeak again. "Tell me how you feel," I say. "It hurts a little... But I like it... Please, don't stop..." you reply. You

As required by my Dom, I publicly declare the following: I am subMeghan, and as I type this this, whenever I am here on CollarSpace, I am to remain completely nude, except for my dog collar and glasses… Today’s Journal Topic Is: I Am Now On CollarSpace Chat!   One of many fantasies my Dom/Hubby has for me is to be a webcam model.  He just loves the idea of me being completely nude in front of an unseen audience of men who I interact with and ultimately masturbate for them.   For a variety of reasons, that is simply never going to happen. Neither of us want to actually make that a reality.  However, we did come up with a way for me to come as close as I can to doing this. For the past few months, I have been playing around with CollarSpace’s chat rooms.  The first few times, I would only pop in for a few minutes, see what people were talking about, then quickly exit. The first time someone requested a private chat with me, I freaked out and exited the chat altogether.  I was such a wimp!  LOL However, over time, I’ve gotten used to it and have had some really enjoyable conversations with some of you all.   A couple observations so far. 1> Collar Space chat can be really buggy.  Getting booted out happens a lot! 2> Chat users are way more nice to me than I expected.  (I’ve previously written about how abusive some of the messages I receive can be.) 3> More often than not, users are more interested in chatting than roleplaying. 4> Male subs seem to be quite needy.  (This is just an observation, not a judgement.)   My Dom’s chat guidelines for me are as follows: 1> Of course, I am always to nude at all times.  I am to disclose that I am nude if asked or appropriate. 2> Be gracious, courteous and friendly. 3> Answer all questions honestly.  However, I may decline to answer any question that I deem to be inappropriate. 4> There are no taboo or inappropriate topics. 5> I do have to tolerate rude, abusive users.  I have the discretion to terminate any conversation that I am uncomfortable with or deem to be unacceptably rude or abusive. 6> At my discretion, I may engage in any roleplay scenario that I feel comfortable with. 7> During roleplay, I am allowed to submit to other online Doms.  However, my Dom’s/Hubby’s rules/limits always supersede any other online Dom’s commands. 8> During roleplay, if possible, I am to attempt to physically implement whatever I say I am doing.  For example: If I say that I am putting clothespins on my nipples, then I need to actually put clothespins on my nipples, etc. 9> No webcam, no video, no photos.  Sorry, not going to happen.   I do not plan on having any kind of chat schedule.  If I’m there. I’m there.  If I’m not, I’m not. If you see me on chat, feel free to just say Hi.   subMeghan  

16 years I've been on this site, almost to the day.  Probably longer than that because I'm not sure this was my first profile.  And before that, I was on other similar sites all the way back to the beginning of the internet, and the old bulletin boards.  And before the internet, yes, I am that old, the bdsm magazines and underground classifieds.  I search, sometimes for years because I have very high standards and there are a lot of haystacks and very few needles in the bdsm world, until I find someone, then I go away.  Unfortunately none of those relationships have been forever, though they were each wonderful in their own way, and I guess I am blessed that each ended on good terms.  My last relationship ended 3 years ago.  I am here, on FL, a few other web sites, and on a bunch of the dating apps.  I have a lot to offer, both bdsm and vanilla.  No, I'm not a sugar daddy.  I'm happy to share.  Supporting a lazy deadbeat isn't in the cards.  If you don't have enough pride to contribute to your own lifestyle, you don't have enough pride to be with me.  I'm seeking a woman who is highly intelligent, who possesses and values integrity, is trustworthy and able to trust when her trust has been earned.  And of course, who desires a long term, real life, 24 7 relationship built around a core of bdsm.  Also should be at least a bit of a geek to insure we have vanilla interests in common. Everything else is negotiable.  You have my permission to contact me first if you think we might be compatible. Please be willing to video chat immediately for both of our safety.

Journal Update - November 2024 I'm Tara and I'm coming back to this site afgter having nearly given up on everything and being lost for a while. I am pre-op trans. I was on hormones, but the health scare I have took me off them for a while. I won't be able to recommence them until January 2025. If that's a problem for you I entirely understand.I've got a lot of kinky hobbies, one that some people know about me is that I have worn chastity since March 2020. I unlock once a week for shaving and cleaning. I switch between two very small devices which can go largely unnoticed under most of my wardrobe.I live 24/7 as a woman. I do have some real struggles with dysphoria, the person I see when I see myself in the mirror often doesn't match how I feel. I wish the NHS moved faster. I want to do this all right so am not taking shortcuts.I love, and I mean really LOVE bondage. Put me in cuffs and a collar and I will melt into submission. Over the next few weeks I think i am going to use the journal to share some of my past expereinces.Tara xox  

I'm reading this book on habits. There's a little bit of the science, but mostly it's anecdotal moments of famous and not so famous people and how one small change created an avalanche of positive changes. Sometimes just within themselves, sometimes branching out to entire companies. It's fascinating. As I'm expected to, I'm mining the nuggets and looking at how they fit into my life. A lot of times an easy answer to why you do or don't do something is I don't know. Maybe you don't know, even when consciously thinking about it. And then you're listening to someone else's story and it comes to you, THAT'S why you do the thing! Or you already knew the thing but hadn't figured out the alternative better habit, like replacing junk food with a bowl of apples so when you need something quick and lazy it's the better option. I know I'm going to forget more than I remember, but right now its helping me to piece together the reasons why I fall back into certain habits and how to move beyond the comfortable to solidify the new, better ones. Not today, of course. Today was a shit show. But it's a plan for tomorrow. Progress. 

Things have been very rough this last few years. In the middle of the horror I discovered my exact needs and desires. All are leaning to 24/7. A TRUE EXPERIENCED Dominant. One compatible of course. One with similar interests as we need time together outside of just bdsm. I need fully trained. Supervised. Someone who pays attention when I think I can get away with something though I try my best to be a good girl. Someone to nurture me. Guide me. Ensure I hydrate and eat properly.  I need the rules. The punishments. The after care and the sincere love. I am in a vanilla relationship and beyond unhappy.  I have had limited human contact in years. The vanilla is too old. Impotent and zero desire. We live separate lives. I am more of a care giver.  I am willing to move almost anywhere but as a full time submissive.  I'm too poor to use what little I have to move in and find out we aren't compatible.  So meeting 1st is a must. I am fine with a hotel or cabin or even fly to you but trust must be established.  I will accept nothing other than EXPERIENCED. I am not switch. I'm fully submissive.  I want 24/7 but also would like a little loosening on my chain to feel semi normal. Yes I expect completely your knowing my comings and goings at all time. Mutual interests are time well spent. What are you looking for in a submissive?  

Feeling Grateful!  A few days ago I was in a major accident, hitting a deer while I as going 75mph down a highway.  I saw one deer cause another car to swerve and that deer made its way without incident, but I knew that meant there could be more.  Before I knew it, there was a deer immediately in front of me and there was nothing to do but allow the inevitable.  The sound was awful, the hood flew up and I got the car to the side of the road without further incident.  Not quite 48 hours has passed yet, and I am grateful no injuries have surfaced beyond very minor bruises.   The next day, I learned from the wrecker driver what normally results from similar crashes.  That choked me up and caused tears to start to flow.  Yes, my car, which was not going to last much longer anyway, is done, but I am fine.  I consider Myself lucky, blessed and My response is gratitude.   I know, not a "site" topic, but I am sharing it anyway.  

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.    

profiles take far too long to update on here, so here is what would be my updated profile...    Friendly notice:  *Please read before messaging - it’ll save us both time :)*    These are just *my* preferences, no offence intended.    - Age range **29-45** -  **NO** interest in joining an existing couple/dynamic -  **NO** interest in married/partnered up men - **NO** interest in online/cyber relationships  - **NO** interest in one off meets  - **NO** interest in switching  - **PLEASE** do **NOT** send me dick pics or request any nudes from me   The Vanilla Stuff:   I am 26 years old and I live alone in a sleepy little village in Oxfordshire. I currently work part time. I enjoy spending my free time socialising with my friends/family, going for long country walks, swimming, dining out and weekends away. I passed my driving test earlier in the year so I am always taking myself on adventures. I am lucky enough to be well travelled and have been on some amazing holidays to beautiful countries. I love cooking and baking (I make a mean cookie). I used to work for a local radio station so I have a strong passion for music… anything 70’s or 80’s. I don’t watch much TV but I do have a slight obsession with the BBC series ‘Inside No. 9’ (if you’ve never seen it, you’re in for a treat!)    I am very calm, patient, honest, understanding and I like to think a caring person. I always try to see the best in people, and will always do what I can to help and support others. I like to have a laugh, and would say I have a somewhat dry and at times dark sense of humour.    Now is probably a good time to mention that... **I am autistic**. Please don't let this put you off. I’d like to make it clear that being autistic does not hold me back in life. I am able to work, I live alone, I drive, and I lead a fairly “normal” life. For me it mostly means that I struggle in some social situations, especially when meeting new people, or going to new unfamiliar places - although I always try to push myself and overcome these social barriers. I don’t let being autistic hold me back or dominate (the irony) my life. If you’d like to know more then feel free to ask me any questions. I’ve written a couple of things **(see below)** which may be helpful.    - [A guide for potential Doms ](https://fetlife.com/users/15225326/posts/10736910) - [Autism, kink and me ](https://fetlife.com/users/15225326/posts/10736903)   I am very much a ‘plain Jane’. I don’t cover myself in make-up, fake tan, and I have never used fillers. I am more comfortable in long dress tops and leggings than overly revealing clothing. I am 5’3, curvy, have shoulder length auburn hair, hazel eyes, mostly wear glasses, and have very pale skin.     The Kinky Stuff:   For as long as I can remember I have always been interested in the idea of BDSM and being submissive, even before I knew what BDSM was I found myself having thoughts of wanting to be tied up, humiliated, degraded, hurt, and used and abused during sex. All my previous relationships had been very vanilla, so I never had a chance to explore my submissive side until a few years ago when I began seeing an older guy. He was not a Dom, but he was kinky as fuck… he would restrain me, gag and blindfold me, use canes, floggers and riding crops on me, and have rougher sex with me - to date he’s the only guy to ever make me cum! Since then I have craved nothing more than to explore my submissive side fully within a D/s or M/s dynamic.    My kinks include: *impact play, breath play, restraints, edge play, humiliation, degradation, face slapping, nipple torture, blindfolds, gags, punishments, praise, orgasm control/denial, hair pulling, rough sex, TPE, CNC and much, much more **(see my fetish list at the bottom of my profile).*** Safe words and aftercare are super important and non negotiable.    I am at a point now in my life where I am very happy and settled. I feel ready to start looking for a Dom/Master who I can go on a BDSM journey with. I no longer have any interest in finding a purely vanilla relationship. So… I am looking for an experienced Dom with a dark/sadistic streak who would be willing to take his time to train and guide me on this journey at a slow and steady pace. I realise that my wants from a dynamic probably mean I am more of a slave than a sub...I’m looking for a Master/Dom who over time I can **fully** submit to - in and out of the bedroom. A Dom who has a majority of control over my life, eg - full sexual control, control over my appearance, over my body and mind, over day to day activities etc. ideally - TPE eventually. A dynamic with rules which if broken result in punishments. A dynamic where my sole purpose is to fulfil the needs of my Dom. I crave nothing more than to be owned. To be the property of a Dom.   I am looking for **long term and regular,** with the end goal to be to eventually live together. I’m **not** looking for a dynamic where a Dom barks orders at me, cuts me off from the outside world and keeps me locked in his basement all day, every day. But where I can look after the house, prepare meals, do all the cleaning and laundry etc. what some may refer to as ‘1950’s living’. (I’d still be happy to remain working and help toward bills if that was agreed upon.) For me this ins't just about having rough sex and a bit of kinky fun, it means much more than that to me... maybe my autism plays a part in that, the want and need for structure and routine in life...   I prefer guys who are older **(29-45)**, who take good care of themselves, are respectful, caring and are drama free. I have no issues if you have children but I do **NOT** want children of my own.      End:   If you're interested then please feel free to message me. I have quite a few writings on my profile about myself, my (limited) previous kinky experiences, fantasies and information about my autism, so please take a look. I never respond to instant sex chat/stories or dick pics.    Ideally I’d prefer it if you can host or we meet in hotels to begin with - due to my autism I do not feel comfortable even having my friends and family over at my house, it's my sanctuary/safe space. I drive and enjoy driving, so distance is not a huge issue for me.    Unfortunately it’s got to the stage where I will just ignore messages from anybody that is outside of my preferred age range, or married, seeking an online dynamic or ONS, etc… I am simply not interested and far too many people just don’t respect this, so please do not be offended if I don’t respond, but that’s probably why.    As so many people don't tend to bother to read profiles on here, please let me know you have done so while messaging me! I hope to hear from you!  ~ M x   

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?

There should be a place to go where you can fuck and feed. I remember with my ex we had sex pretty much 24/7. Call it the fuck and feed. Never found someone to keep up and even he complained about too much sex. Alas he was the only one I could just make/go get a sammich and we went right back it. We had sex in all the strange places graveyards temples churches, besides anywhere outside  We didn't discriminate.  This one time I dropped off my friend told him I'd pick him up in an hour my ex and I had sex in the car for the whole day we never stopped. My friend walked to my car (which was a parking lot) knocked on the window and said "some hour it's been over 12". My ex and I honestly thought it was like 10 mins. I have no regrets - just miss the sex all the time every time with a massive BBC. This i something of the past I don't want to stay there would like a repeat thanks 

Tonight Im sitting here typing remembering the past.This used to be my main life.It was not on fetlife but another bdsm site. Hours turned into years as I sat and waited for my first Master. . It was more than online but He kept me online . I was trained to wait. He was a Dragon.There have been other Dragons. They seem to find me or me find them. I rarely drink but I'm drinking and I'm in a mood but Im not drunk. I need to back up and say at least they name themselves Dragon. I have my own ideas of what Dragons really are. Im not being disrespectful. I just need to get things out before I explode. One is hardly ever here online. One does write and I want to write back and say more but I just cant. Im just going through so much stuff. I start therapy tomorrow. Yay * sarcastic tone* a vanilla therapist trying to help me with relationships etc when I know that they will have no fucking idea what bdsm really is.

 SteveCroxteth