Open thought: I am into meeting up with one or two saine kinky men, have a good time and then move on. Again I have met 2 European men from this site so far.  Sex to them was great but for me was only ok. I prefer to keep things casual, be open to dating or be open to having a level of intimacy where we create a safe space and say this is our sexual refuge and take it from there. I get messages from men who initiate they want to stay with me longterm and use the word "marriage" and talk about they have had 3 longterm relationships in the life - snore. So this means I have to commit to someone I don't get to know first? That to me is rude.  It means you don't respect starting a true relationship.  It means you hope to get a full invite into my flat. You want to travel from France and Romania and stay with me and then monitor who I am with and how I keep to myself and then, what use my place and then come and go as you like?   What you need is Air BnB, I will look for someone who I can get to know, who I can trust but I don't have to be bound to them when I find out they are not for me. I found out the last 2 were not for me the fish can go back into the sea and I can put my net back in the pond and move on.

A MERRY AND SAFE HOLIDAY SEASON TO ALL! It really sucks to say that I'm struggling right now. I know a lot of people have this perception that Dominants are always confident, without flaws, or that we've got our shit together. Hahaha! Not to burst anyone's bubble, but we're human, too. I'm not sure if I'm self-sabotaging or if this is how my depression is manifesting these days. <Blah> but a <laugh> as well. It's Christmas Eve, and though I didn't send my wish list off to Santa, maybe a bit of magic will sparkle down as he flies over. And maybe, just maybe, I'll wake tomorrow to a message in my mailbox from an intriguing s-type who's interested in being an elf-ful helping hand to a delightfully "extra" and jolly D-type. Hohoho! 🎁

Femdom should be about finding joy and pleasure in a dynamic that suits you and your partner(s). Not about fixing a sub's sexism- not that it would work anyways. Most people I've talked to say that their desire for femdom predates knowledge of femdom, or of sexual arousal. While some people may have a more concrete "I'm into femdom because of a specific reason" most people I interact with like it because they like it. Vanilla people don't have to have reasons to like vanilla sex.

The Weight of Three Minutes: Continued I do not move quickly. I have never needed to. I circle him the way I circled him earlier, when the tea was still cooling on the obsidian table and the correction had not yet taken its shape. He tracks me without turning his head, feeling my presence move around him the way you feel a change in light, knowing without seeing. This too I have built in him. This particular sensitivity to where I am in a room, to the quality of my attention when it lands on him, to the difference between my stillness that is simply stillness and my stillness that is preparation. I stop behind him. I let the silence hold for a moment, long enough to feel it settle into his shoulders, into the careful architecture of his maintained posture. His breathing is controlled. He is working for that control and I can hear the effort underneath it, the slight and deliberate evenness of someone who has decided composure is the one thing left available to him and is holding it with both hands. "You ruined my moment of peace," I told him, and I made sure he heard every word, felt the shape of my disappointment. "So now, you will provide the entertainment." I released his chin and sat back, beginning to unbutton my blouse with deliberate, unhurried movements. The pearl buttons slipped free one by one, the fabric parting to reveal what I wore beneath - sheer black lace that left nothing truly hidden, everything offered and yet withheld at my discretion. I shrugged the blouse from my shoulders and let it fall behind me, uncaring where it landed. "Expose them," I ordered, and I watched the conflict play across his features. The desire to touch warring with the knowledge that he had not been granted permission, only command. His hands rose, trembling slightly as they found the edges of my bra. He pushed the lace down with careful, reverent movements, revealing my breasts to the cool air of the room. I felt the immediate response of my nipples tightening, the subtle shift in my own arousal at being displayed, at being seen so completely while he remained bound by my rules. I leaned back slightly, presenting myself to him with deliberate cruelty, close enough that he could smell my perfume, feel the warmth radiating from my skin, see every detail of my arousal. But not close enough to touch. Not without permission he had not yet earned. "Warm them," I instructed, my voice dropping to something softer, more dangerous. "With your breath. Only your breath. Hands behind your back." He obeyed with the desperate precision of someone who knew the cost of failure. His hands found each other behind him, clasping tight as though the restraint were physical rather than commanded. He leaned forward, close enough now that I could feel the ghost of his exhalation against my skin, the careful warmth of each controlled breath directed across my nipples. I watched him struggle, the way his jaw tightened with the effort of restraint, the way his eyes kept darting between my face and my breasts, searching for any sign that he might be permitted more. His arousal was unmistakable now, visible in the strain of his posture, the hunger in his gaze that he could not fully disguise. I let him continue until I could feel my own wetness gathering, until the tease had sharpened into something that required resolution. Then I shifted forward abruptly, closing the distance he had been forbidden to cross, pressing my breast against his parted lips with deliberate force. He made a sound, something between surprise and desperate relief, but I denied him even this small satisfaction. I held him there, my nipple resting against his closed lips, using his mouth as nothing more than a cushion, a warm surface for my own pleasure. He tried to part his lips, to taste, to suck, and I pulled back just enough to deny him, then pressed forward again with the same cruel restraint. "You made the tea too strong," I reminded him, my voice steady despite the arousal coiling tighter in my belly. "So you can be my cup holder. Nothing more." I shifted my grip to the back of his head, my fingers threading through his hair with controlled pressure, and pulled his face forward into the valley of my breasts. I held him there, my skin pressed against his mouth and nose, feeling the desperate rhythm of his breath hot and trapped against my cleavage. He struggled slightly, instinctive panic at the restriction, the need to breathe and I tightened my grip just enough to remind him that even this was at my discretion. "Stay," I commanded, and felt him still, surrendering to the constriction, accepting that his comfort was irrelevant to my pleasure. I held him there longer than necessary, feeling the subtle shifts in his body, the tension in his shoulders, the controlled shallowness of his breaths, the desperate patience of someone who knew that any complaint would only extend his punishment. The power of it thrilled through me, sharpening my arousal to something almost painful, a heavy heat between my thighs that demanded attention. I released him finally, letting him gasp against my skin, feeling the desperate gratitude in the way his hands clenched behind his back, still obedient, still restrained. I leaned back enough to meet his eyes, watching the dazed hunger there, the submission that had settled deeper than before. "Unzip my skirt," I ordered, my voice rougher now, the command firm. "Slowly." (TBC)  

Let's make on thing crystal clear; all Bulls are tops but not all tops are Bulls. A Bull is a tamer of men and a trainer. Str8 men are a very complex lot to generalize about them. However, in my years I realized that for many str8 males is more titillating to get mounted than to suck a dick. Perhaps because for them is a test of strength and resistance versus kneeling in front of a cock and worshipping it, which triggers all the bad epithets of their lives "cock sucker." For many males to go beyond an insult that they most likely used as a putdown is the ultimate humiliatiation; go figure. Even in cuckolding scenes males react the same way and it is the ultimate degradation. The taming of males is not new, look at Bootcamp in the armed forces and also in sports teams, as I mentioned in another journal. In reality the idea is the same to break all barriers and build a man that is moldavble and ready to respond to the Master's touch, voice, and ministrations.  Most str8 males wonder about the idea of M2M sex and bonding and in many instances it will require for the Bull to mount and all out assault to their sense of masculinity and heterosexuality. That's where a good Bull is at its best. Moving and creating a serious doubt about the above mentioned issues. I've seen those walls stumble like a house of cards. The first realization is the answer to the question, who is the best man? and if a Bull really is what he claims, he will always be the best Man in all circumstances. In my experience in cuckolding situations the husband wants cock but will deny that inclination at all cost. Yet, if he is "forced by the wife" he can save whatever shred of dominance he thought he had. Once that resistance is bridged you will realize that in the intimacy of the afterglow of sex they become cuddly like a puppy. moreover, only a Bull with restore somewhat the lost masculinity as he understands it. Working towards that goal he will follow you to the end of the world with you owning his full sexuality. He will perhaps go back to his wife or gfs but he will always be yours to mount and breed. It is always so pleasurable to send them back home well fucked and stretched and unable to ejaculate because between the two only on breed and it is not him. As a Bull you know he is yours any way you want. However, outside only him will feel your poorer and control. Even if he go back to women which is his choice , he will mount them imitating you and doing it for you.  I had the pleasure of a baby named afterr me, and that’s the ultimate surender. It is his baby., now a teen, but every time he calls him he calls me. A male who loves you is a treasure to be had and a partner to nurture and possess beyond the physical.

Vanilla Life In my vanilla life:   Lost in the pages of spiritual gems like the Master Key System, Secret, and the wisdom-filled "The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari." I'm also captivated by the magic found in books like "The Magic of Thinking Big," "The Power of Letting Go," and the timeless "The Power of Now." On a different note, I love getting lost in the realms of romantic fiction.   Yoga and jogging are my go-to activities for staying active and centered. I've delved into the realm of Reiki, even gaining practical experience, and I've honed my massage skills from the knowledge I've gathered.   My love for adventure extends to frequent trips and hiking. I'm intrigued by hypnosis, fascinated by the idea of my mind being guided by a partner's influence.   In moments of relaxation, I'm an avid reader and practitioner of deep breathing techniques. Idle moments used to be a challenge, but I'm making strides in embracing them.   Gaming was once a significant part of my life, with a PS4 that hosts titles like Red Dead Redemption 2, GTA V, Call of Duty (Aw, MW), Wolfenstein, Hitman (from Code name 47 to Blood Money), NFS (up until Payback), Max Payne, and the list goes on.

          Good Morning 🍒 Male submissives are beautiful and desirable creatures, and it is absolutely tragic when they do not know their own desirability because they are forcibly taught, not just by mainstream society but by the BDSM community, that they are not desirable, that they can not possibly be objaspects of desire I am not dominant because I hate men, but because I love and desire men enough to want to own them. I cherish and appreciate submissive men for their beautiful masculinity. Submissive men just gets the pussy juices flowing for me. Their yielding excites me in a primal way. Their desire to please, to be pursued, to be attractive for me, the object of my fierce and hungry gaze, is what pushes my buttons. I certainly respect people who are wired differently. I just won't date them.

No one stays around for long. This is the famous words, I hear:                             "I don't think I can relocate after all, have lived here all my life"                           "I need some space to clear my head, it's not you, I am just so confused"                   "I can't get you out of my head, I tried by not talking to you and it just made me want to talk to you more, I just want to be with you, but I am so confused," And in all of this?? "It's NOT you!"   What else am I suppose to think?                      BOYS have your ducks in a row, BEFORE a Mistress spends time directing you, with her words and stories, to begin the molding of your spirit to her will.                              That is just a small example of what I have gotten. This is also why a Mistress usually talks to several  boys at the same time.

drama at home :( mom turned her back on me and gave me an outcasted look earlier today all for her hubbys aproval... however i know shell do anything in the world to give my little brother a "fauther" exp. even it mean Xing me...  in the end i cant hate her for what shes doing but dang .... talk about a shotgun round to the heart :(    big empty hole needs to be filled .... lol get it.    im very loyal and honest to the bone probably the nicest person youll ever encounter however dont get misslead ... i totally love to push my envolope and live life on the edge... ive expirienced and expiriemented with a lot in my opinion ... please dont ask... "" what kinda exp do you have -_____-"" just fill in the blanks as we conversate ... ... im ALL go with the flow so more then likey i dont know what im doing next week so idk if id be available or intrested in meeting you.. i know im not always on here but im ready for my next chapter and willing to give a special someone all of me to mold into their perfect being :)note im intrested in heading out to Texas, NY or socal(home) however not a deal breaker im just as intrested in nearly anywhere on the east or west COST!! more inland .... ehhh but will consider of course :) if your intrested drop a message anyone who takes a chance on me wont be disappointed. oh ps.. NO Flakes and for gods sake picture please .... 

So some people don't like someone contacting them telling them what they are into, like it's some sort of afront, like they can't have kinks, because you know, it's all about me.   But here's the kicker, it isn't all about you, it about a mtually beneficial arrangement.  If one side is not having their needs and desires met, then they will lose interest. And if someone writes to you and says hey, I like you profile, I'm into... Maybe they're just excited, maybe your profile excited them enough to open up. Unless the message is basically them demanding you do stuff to them without negotiation, then what's the harm really? This is not from a place of experience, I myself do not contact people and go hey I love being humiliated do you like that? Because it's not how I am, I'm a little less excited about this lifestyle after 30+ years in it. But that doesn't mean I don't get excited, it just means I take my time doing it. So don't be harsh on people if they get excited by you, to be fair it's probably a compliment. Anyway, stay safe, have fun

There is a mystical moment when two men meet and sex is in the air. They both know what they want but one is a bottom he may or may not know it. Then there is a moment of hesitation when after looking the object of his desire the hand extends to feel what his body is craving. Still if there is a little presumption of an ill understood machismo that hand moves slowly for what feels like an eternity. After contact caressing the phallus is not sufficient, but how to surrender? Finally, the top takes over, and firmly guides him to acknowledge his place, kneeling; and having the object of his desires close to the parting lips... Sheer poetry, bliss, sweet hesitation, and the ultimate surrender to open his mouth and forgetting the world around devotes his energy to please the object of his desire, his top, who allows the bottom to taste him deep and completely. They are not strangers anymore, the bottom has found his niche in the order of things, kneeling and giving up any pretense of control. From now on his domination is in the hands of his top.  

"First Encounter" Inner thoughts of this dom. HIM:  "Today I'm about to meet this incredibly sexy submissive ive been coveting for a while. She a cute little thing that would be perfect to join my family. I wonder how quick she will succumb to my will? What and how far will she go to be allowed to orgasm?" These as many other stray and random thought rattled their way around my mind. The excitement mounting as we were about to meet real time after a very long period of online and phone chats as we each revealed ourselves to each other. Developing what we hoped would be a meet that would cause sparks to fly within us as the anticipation had grown that seductive. I meet you at a quiet little bar. There we introduce ourselves for the first time in real life. I feel like I know so much about you after the many weeks we have spent chatting online. You are even more beautiful in person. As I hug you tightly to my body the faint whiff of your perfume entices me. I slowly slide my hands down your back as out tongues dance in our joined mouths. Working down your firm ass I can't help but squeeze your cheeks. I slight moan escapes your lips into my mouth. I disengage our lips and bring my face against your neck. Once again inhaling your perfume and freshly washed hair. As I bring one hand up to your head to hold it in place as I nuzzle your neck my other hand slides up your short dress to make sure you followed my instructions and didn't wear underwear.  I pull your head to the side by your hair exposing your neck. Like Dracula I attack your neck. Nibbling and licking it as I work my way to your naked shoulder. My other hand openly caressing your naked ass for all to see. I am so proud of her. She passingly mentioned to me that she was never into PDA nor was she much for kissing. Yet here we stood locked together mouth to mouth for all the world to see. "If only she had gotten thus kind of affection more often. Would she feel differently?" I think to myself.  She feels the cool breeze against her naked ass as I intentionally expose it. I want to see her reaction to my actions. Will she deny my? If I am to be her sir surely she will comply. She knows if she passes the tasks I will bestow upon her over the next week that she will find shelter within my arms. Secure in the fact that I will help her grow and be there to catch her when she falls. For this she will give me her mind, heart and body but eventually I want to own her soul. The pilgrimage of that honor is my quest.   HER: Feeling you lift my incredibly already short skirt and the breeze on my ass, you feel my whole body grow warm, and see the bright red spreading across my skin, as i move my hand to cover my poor ass and gs every so quietly, in your grip i do my best to turn away from the other people near by knowing i wont get far i still wiggle and whisper a quiet "Sir, theres people looking" all the whole attempting to pull the skirt back down and cover myself.  As she tries to pull back her skirt feeling humiliated and embarrassed I quietly whisper in her ear. It ok baby girl. You are beautiful scars and all. I desire to show you off. Love yourself for me.  You feel my fingers sliding between the cheeks of your ass. Relieved that this action is allowing your skirt to begin covering your nakedness. Suddenly you feel my finger tip dip between your lips that are moist from fear and excitement. The action is quick and efficient. Only lasting a split second yet the feelings it created within you may last much longer. You quickly look around to see if anyone noticed your reaction and what sir is doing to you. There at the bar is a young man. He can't be any older than 22. A grin on his face as he quickly turns away when you look his way as if you wouldn't notice the lust within his eyes. You suddenly feel wanted and desired.  Here your sir wants you and is giving you the attention you've been longing for for so long. And a man who is so young looks at you like a cougar with lust. Willing to pounce on you if he could. All these thoughts are running freely thru your tangled mind. Mixed emotions running ramped like a freed feral cat. Yet your body is betraying you with its actions. You turn suddenly away from me pulling me towards the waiting booth in the darker corner. I see the flushed look in your face. The embarrassment I have caused you. It turns me on making my cock twitch even more. The wetness I felt when dipping my finger in you showed me how your body betrays your mind. Although embarrassed you are turned on. Is it because of my actions or because you were being watched. I glance at the young man who is once again looking. I look him in the eye with alpha male intimidation that has served me well all my life. Something earned taught and released from my primal interior being from the years I spent in special forces while in the military. Something about one who has seen things that show the ugliness of man is like an imprint. Although not visible it is detected in posture. My eyes show a certain sadness but also scream that I am not one to be reckoned with. The young man immediately turns away. He picks up his beer and goes to the other end of the bar. Interpreting the unsaid message given to him by just a glare by a man more than twice his age. That instant momentarily distracts me as I faintly hear something you said but didn't fully acknowledge.  I pull you back to me. Holding you tight against my body once again. I feel your breasts pressed against my chest. Our groins mashed together as if they already know what is to come later. Anxious to get started as my cock strains against the denim of my jeans held prisoner. I whisper once again into your ear. "It's OK baby girl. I want to feel you against me for another moment.  After all these weeks you are now flesh and not just words. I nip your bare shoulder lightly with my teeth.  My tongue then flicks back and forth where my teeth once bit as if to offer a healing moment.  Unneeded tho because of the gentleness of it. Putting the smile on my face that I use for the world, the one that doesn't necessarily reach my eyes but seems to somehow charm everyone that comes in contact with.  Feeling you slide into the booth next to me, I have to concentrate so hard. In a way that I do not tense up, but keep my body relaxed. In the way "he who must not be named" showed me at all times. Afterall, no man wants to cuddle a corpse Katey! Shaking the thought from my head. I relax and let my features fall soft. Warm and welcoming. I risk a glance up from the table where my gaze has previously been focused and catch his eyes. They're peering into mine! Why on earth does it feel like he's looking straight into my soul? No one ever notices this much or pays this much attention. I know I'm cute tonight. Hell, I'm always cute. Enough cleavage showing to capture the attention of everyone in the room that has a penis and even some who don't. Why is he so focused on my eyes?  Shifting nervously but trying so hard to stay relaxed. (No one cuddles a corpse Katey!) I can't help but freeze just a bit as he grabs my hand pulling it to his face. Please don't notice the sweaty palms I chant in my head. He's going to think I'm insane or unable to show love. SHIT! What if he thinks I don't like him?  Pushing the thoughts from my head again drawing my focus back to the moment. I realize he's speaking to me. Not hearing half the words, but his eyes capturing mine again like he seems to have a talent of doing. I see a soft side in there. Someone honestly gentle.  You've seen that before too Katey! Right before the black eye my brat pipes up. Shut up it's different this time try to have faith. I zone back into his words and catch something about being his pet for the night.  About being taught new things. This stirs the curious one, the fun filled one with the will to live inside me. She gets super excited bouncing up and down like a child seeing stars for the first time. Eyes shining bright. She loves to learn new things.  All this flashes across my face before the brat hog ties her and sits her back down in the chair. For once her and I agree. Now is not the time for you to surface we're still treading new waters here. Wondering if he saw the roller coaster of emotions going through my twisted broken mind before my face settles. Back to the factory style smile and shining blue eyes all the men seem to love. I relax into his touch trying to show I'm not a mutant. Afraid I'll come off robotic. The motions coming so natural they seem programmed ( No one cuddles a corpse Katey!)  Hoping this gets past him and smile briefly hearing him say, "Tonight I own you". I reply with a sweet, "Yes Sir! I can't wait." Looking into her eyes as he holds her hand for reassurance he sees inner conflict. A turbulent turmoil of emotions taking flight within. He understands these feelings all too well. Demons that he himself has wrestled with for most of his life. His innocence stripped away from him as a delusional teenager.  His mind flashes back to the day he graduated high school. Signing his life away for the next 4yrs. Gonna be a GI! Government Issued, warrior. Right the wrongs and save the world from evil.  Yeah if only he knew who the enemy really was. How evil is everywhere in so many shapes and forms. A delusioned man child at only 18 who thought he knew it all. Quickly his mind snaps back to her. He lays her hand on his thigh and holds it there. Mere inches from his inflamed cock. Swelling that she has caused. Yes she is cute. Those beautiful braless tits on display. Just as he had instructed her to show off. Her beautiful, wanting to please, features displayed on her face. Her body, in that short dress. This too he had requested. One that could have started wars centuries ago. Her freshly washed hair with a hint of fruity smell.  My God what I want to do to that body! But no not yet! Beautiful women are a dime a dozen. That's not what I am after. I want that inner beauty I know is there hiding in fear in the darkness. Perhaps behind one too many negative experiences.  He looks at her again. Tilts his head to the side and leans in. Plants a soft kiss upon her forehead. "This is to free your mind of evil thoughts.", he tells her. Then leaving her hand on his thigh he takes hold of her head. One hand on either side and draws it to him. He kisses one eye, as her eyes instinctively closed. Perhaps out of fear. Then he kisses the other. "These are to ward off evil visions and nightmares.", he tells her. As he releases her he notices her hand is right where he left it. Is it out of fear he wonders as he glances down. Then he sees her moving her hand. Rubbing his thigh. Almost as if she is giving him a non-verbal thank you. Thanking her lucky stars she's put on her trained face. Her body falling in line with the program. This scene all well to practiced in previous encounters with other men. Her body doesn't trip her up for once. It manages to stay relaxed when he reaches for her hand placing it on his thigh.  He keeps her hand trapped under his a few moments. A feeling she's used to. The pinned down feeling. But this time something is different about it. Maybe it's the soft sweet words coming from a reassuring mouth. Instead of the normal don't move whore she was used to. Maybe its the sweet soft kisses he's laid upon her forehead or eyes. She's never felt something like this in all her years experience with men. She finds it confusing. Yet comforting. Feeling that wonder child inside stir some more before the brat slaps her in the back of the head. This is why you stay locked down. Too eager and not enough caution.  The mix of emotions inside rolling over in her mind cause an automatic reaction. The smile softens on her lips. Eyes closing just a little before she peers up at him through her lashes. His hand has moved but two things occured. One she knows never to move from a spot youve been placed unless you want the belt. Yet, a stranger feeling she's not sure she's felt before. Of not wanting to move hand this time. In fear of feeling to stiff again she lightly brushes her fingertips along his thigh. Not out of habit this time but because maybe part of her actually wanted to.  Squeezing her thighs together she notices how wet she's become. She can't understand it. Pressing them tighter in fear of leaving behind a wet spot. She can't help but think, "Where are the drinks?" His relief at feeling her hand beginning to rub his thigh is a welcome relief. Although part of him wonders. Is this just a programmed response? Is she like the many other women he has spent countless hours with chatting, exchanging photos and erotica only to vanish after the session was over.  Almost as if, they, no different than what would be considered creepy guys. They used him to flirt and arouse until they achieved their level of sexual satisfaction and then disappeared. Leading him on like a cruel joke. No he says. That's why he reminds himself, it's not about the sex.  If not to toy with him then what would a beautiful young woman see in an older man like himself. The look in her eyes as she looks at him gives him strength. He sees so much of himself in her. Scars of hurt, rejection, pain and broken promises of lost love.  Yet here I am today he says almost out loud. Daring to take each step to move forward proud and strong. To never give up and to fight whatever battle comes my way. In whatever shape or form it manifests itself. His strength comes from his confidence. A weaker man would be shy and afraid to take a chance again for fear of once again being used and rejected. Tossed aside like left over scraps. But no not me. I am a WARRIOR! I want to believe that there are still people who can love out there the way I do. It keeps my faith in humanity from being irradicated. All this swims through him as his mind processes it all with the lightning speed of a super computer. Just like his training. Compartmentalize evaluate the situation and act. It has worked for him all his life. The long pause between them like a moment of silence causes some awkwardness between them. Then he feels her rubbing his thigh harder. More confidently as if by her own attrition and not a programmed response or expectational desire. It's as if she can see him go far away and is saying, "I'm here. I want to be here and you're ok". Once again he looks into her eyes and sees something that wasn't there before. A softness. A real glitter almost as if they were smiling at him. Wanting and desiring him. His already hard cock twitches. He feels it touch against her hand from the unexpected reaction she's caused. He feels a wetness against his bare thigh as he realizes he's leaking because of her! Thoughts are interrupted as the waitress finally arrives. He orders a Sprite for himself and looks at her and asks. "What would you like beautiful?" A gentle nibble and a kiss! Her coy way of showing affection is illuminating. Her cute sense of witty humor threw him off guard but breaks a grin on his face. She has the humor in her like I do he thinks.  He turns to her and sees her sitting there hands clasped together on her lap. Legs firmly held tight as if to ward off foreign invaders and protect her real-estate.  He slowly eyes her up and down. Her breasts he notices pushed out as if she is attempting to seduce him with them. Her heavy breathing pushing them in and out each time she takes a breath.  He notices how the dress accents her features and brings out the woman in her. Good choice he thinks to himself glad that he purchased it for her and had it shipped to her. Along with the garters that hold up those incredible stockings he liked so much. As he continues down he sees the cowgirl boots as well. He noticed how well the whole outfit fit her earlier but was too enthralled with other things to notice all the details till now. Even tho they are imprinted in his mind to remember forever. Their first meet and date which if leads to what he hopes and knows she desires may be a long term relationship. He brings his eyes up and looks deep into her eyes now. He made it quite obvious that he was checking her out. He looks at her hoping that checking her out and admiring her has pleased her. Perhaps even aroused her. He leans in and plants a soft and gentle kiss on her neck again. He loves necks and shoulders. Moving to her ear as the waitress returns with their drinks He whispers. "You are sexy as fuck. Even more beautiful in person than all the pictures and videos you sent me can capture. If only you knew how much I desire you right now." The waitress places the drinks in front of them smiling as she overheard his comment. She even noticed his tongue flicker across her ear. "Would you two like anything to eat tonight?" She asks. He looks at her and grins. "On our menu" she chuckles knowing what that grin insinuated. His Katey too giggled at that. Feeling more confident in herself knowing his desire was genuine.  He laughing says. Yes please can you bring us some menus.  You obviously know what I would like as my appetizer and dessert He says to the waitress knowing she has a good sense of humor. The waitress laughs with him. I don't blame you she says. I would probably skip all of that and just have her as the main course myself..... A chuckle from in his heart surfaces itself. It's audible sound to those within earshot turn to look it is that infectious and genuine. He wraps his arm around her neck as she cuddles into him for the first time. Feeling her warmth against him he wraps his arm around her neck holding her closer to him. Enjoying how she feels. He notices and feels her hand upon his thigh. This time voluntarily and with movement of its own.  "She's a firecracker isn't she" he half asks half states to the waitress. The waitress can't help but notice in the position she is in now with her head tucked into him, his arm around her neck asnif claiming ownership that she can see right down her dress. Her beautiful breast in plain sight and her nipples hard from arousal. She sees the woman's hand move to his thigh. The action of her rubbing draws her attention to it. She notices how hard he is and how his cock is running down the inside of his thigh mere millimeters from her hand. She notices what looks to be a damp spit on his jeans. She's is mesmerized by these two as she is hypnotized by their hidden affection and the energy radiating from them. She sees her run her finger along the length of his rigid cock. Slowly methodically with purpose. This little vixen knows exactly what she is doing as she looks up at her, stares into her eyes and grins. His cock continually twitching and pulsing from her actions. His voice draws her back to reality. "Whatever she wants tonight. We are celebrating our union" he says. Then he looks down at her as she lifts her eyes to meet his. A glimmer that sparkles thru his piercing blue eyes looking deep into hers. "What would my darling pet like to eat" he softly asks her. As he waits for her reply he can't help but feel a rush running thru his body. The way she's teasing his cock on her own. She may think that he didn't notice the pixy like smile she gave the waitress who saw her doing it. As he looks down into her eyes to ask her what she would like he too notices the plunging neckline of her dress is allowing anyone above her to see her tits. He sees her nipples standing out exceptionally far and hard from the soft roundness of her breast.  It excites him making him leak once again. He can feel the wet warmth released from the eye of his cock. After asking her what she would like he gently blows down the front of her dress. His breath running down her neck across her brwasr and to her nipples. He swears it looks like they just got bigger from that. He turns to the waitress noticing she saw this too. Her reaction is priceless. Her almost hypnotic state excites him. She TOO wants and desires his little pet nestled softly and safely against him as his strong arm holds her tight. He blinks his eyes several times. The light starting to creep its way into the room is almost blinding. He rubs them trying to get the sleep out of them as he looks around and then checks out the clock. Looking down at his crotch he realizes his cock is still hard. There's even a couple wet spots on his underwear. Clearing his head he slowly gets up to go make coffee. Wow that was one hell of a dream he smiles to himself remembering it.  

I just made chocolate chip cookies topless. Here's what happened.  I'm on a health kick (the cookies aren't for me). The other night I made lentil bolognese and it called for red wine. Just a little. I'm not a wine drinker but I do cook with it. So, smidge of wine into the pot, cork the bottle. Google tells me I only have a few days to finish the bottle, but I can freeze the wine. Pull out a small ice cube tray, pour half the bottle in, stick it in the freezer. And I learned that wine takes a lot longer to freeze than water. I should have known this but I wasn't thinking. I pulled the tray out with the amount of force you would if it were ice. It wasn't ice. Wine all down the front of my shirt. Now, I'm already in the process of making cookies so what do I do? Whip off my shirt and rinse it under cold water to try to get the stain out. Do I go upstairs to get another shirt? Stay with me here, I know I'm topless. But no, I do not. I grab an apron and tie it on. These damn cookies better be delicious. 

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

On Self-Mastery Before Mastery Over Others A Master who seeks to command another must first command himself. Authority without discipline is nothing but noise—loud, fleeting, and without weight. True mastery begins within: the mind must be sharpened, the emotions steadied, and the will made unshakable. Only then can the Master stand above his slave with confidence and clarity. A Master who has not mastered himself becomes ruled by impulse. Anger dictates his words, jealousy clouds his vision, and fear drives his actions. Such a man cannot lead, for he is a servant to his own weakness. A slave will sense this instability, and with it, respect will erode. Without respect, obedience becomes hollow, and the dynamic crumbles. To achieve self-mastery, the Master must practice three disciplines: Discipline of the Mind – The Master must think clearly, without being swayed by fear, envy, or pride. Reflection, study, and intentional learning strengthen the intellect and refine judgment. Discipline of the Body – The Master must hold himself with presence and authority. Care of health, posture, and bearing are not vanity—they are symbols of control and power that the slave must see and feel. Discipline of the Spirit – The Master must know his own values, beliefs, and purpose. He must act from principle, not reaction, and embody consistency in every command. When the Master governs himself, his commands are unquestionable. His slave will feel the certainty of his hand, the steadiness of his rule, and the clarity of his authority. Self-mastery is the root of all mastery; without it, the title of Master is an empty shell.   Let it be remembered: before a Master can claim ownership of another, he must first prove ownership of himself.

Your Rage Is Somebody's Business Model   You keep complaining that you're stuck. Ugly, broke, invisible, cursed by genetics and bad luck and women who won't "settle." You've screamed this at length to anyone who will listen, usually right before explaining why nothing about it can change. Here's a question nobody in your feed is going to ask you: who's paying their mortgage off your misery? Think about how a dating app actually makes money. Not from you finding someone and leaving. It makes money from you staying on it — swiping, scrolling, almost-matching, checking back tomorrow. A user who finds a partner and deletes the app is a lost customer. The entire design, the whole dopamine architecture of the thing, is built to keep you engaged, not satisfied. Satisfied people log off. Now look at your podcast feed the same way. Every morning you feed forty-five minutes to a guy with a microphone and a jawline and a "no BS truth-telling" thumbnail. He tells you women are hypergamous liars, the deck is stacked, you were born on hard mode, and there's nothing to be done about looks or the "sexual marketplace" except maybe buy his supplement stack or his $2,000 cohort program that will fix it. You nod along. You feel understood. Then the video ends, nothing in your actual life has moved one inch, and tomorrow you'll be back for the next episode. That's not an accident. That's the retention loop. A guy who gets better stops showing up. He works on his social skills, gets a therapist, stops insulting the people he wants to interact with,  builds a life, and — shock — starts dating. He unsubscribes. He's cured, and cured customers don't renew. So the incentive of anybody monetizing your despair points one direction: keep you engaged enough to need tomorrow's episode, never healed enough to close the app for good. Compare that to an actual doctor, who wants you well and gone, whose whole ethical structure is built around making themselves obsolete to you. None of the guys selling you "alpha mindset" seem to want that. The diagnosis never changes. Only the product line does. This is the same principle as the Emotional Bank Account, run backwards — instead of somebody making deposits into your life, they're renting you a story where you're the permanent victim of a rigged system, and charging a subscription to keep hearing it. You're not paying for solutions. You're paying for permission to stay exactly where you are while feeling smart about it. It's a genuinely brilliant business model, credit where due. Feminism is Cancer, the wall, hypergamy, 80/20 — none of it requires you to do anything except watch, agree, and maybe buy the branded protein powder. Compare that to "go to therapy, work on your listening skills, get comfortable being told no sometimes, build an actual personality outside your grievance" — which is boring, slow, occasionally humiliating, and does not have a thumbnail. You already know what outcome you want, presumably. You just haven't asked whether the people supplying your information also want you to have it. Their KPI isn't your happiness. It's your watch time. If you genuinely want a partner — Dominant, submissive, vanilla, whatever — the first, least sexy, most necessary step is auditing who's been telling you it's impossible, and asking honestly whether that person profits from you believing them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ This is the intimate relationship I want~ The mandate of transparency means that we can be open about our flaws, work through them, and come together stronger.  We are each other’s safe space, brave space, and necessary space.  The commitment to the relationship in a long-term way makes us both more willing to dig in and make things work. We need to be motivated to figure out ways to make it work.  “Trust Junkie” – Earning Trust by being trustworthy.  I can’t demand trust unless I give him every reason to trust me. At the same time, the same is true for him. Work together always for the betterment of the relationship.  Understand that trust can be earned, and as fast, trust can be lost. You choose how or if you earn or lose trust.  Getting trust back takes a glass house, if at all.  Regular check-ins, not a time out or a break from the relationship to talk about the relationship. Make regular time to talk with each other. Note I am not saying at the person but rather with the person. Make lists to help you remember what you want to talk about.  Spend time after the check-in together. Have a meal/snack, snuggle, cuddle, touch each other, and feel the person you are so close with.           This builds positive reinforcement – closeness. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ R. Kaldara made a post and talked about similar things. I rewrote/twisted it to match my desires. Some of the wording is mine, and some is his. I give some of the credit to him. 

From time to time I am asked what I'm looking for. I haven't specified in my profile, and from what I'm told my description doesn't really fit in around here. Nor does my writing. I'm going to talk about the collective you, not specifically you, dear reader. Clearly you are the exception. I have been here long enough to see that most people fit into boxes. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they are afraid or established or stuck. The fantasy life they won't ever live because they aren't successful with relationships in their real lives so they look for extremes here to counter that. The exploiting for sex and excitement. The genuine living this life out in the world and here to meet like minded people. The watchers.  Here's the unpopular part, remember that you like me. I think we're all messed up to some degree and that's why we're here instead of talking to someone face to face. This isn't the place for emotionally healthy people. This is that dive bar on the shady side of town you hope no one sees you walk into that's full of regret but it makes you forget for a while. And I'm in here, too. I'm not looking for someone to take me home. I just want to swap stories and laughter. I don't think what I'm really looking for is here, but in the moment I'm all for the entertainment when an interesting conversation heads my way. Everything good starts with a conversation, even if it doesn't turn out the way you hoped. I'm happy to be pleasantly surprised, but I fully expect to walk out of this bar alone. 

He lifted the wig from its box with surprising care, brushing his fingers through the soft strands before holding it out. “One more step,” he said. “Trust me.” I hesitated. The clothes had made him feel exposed, but this felt different. More permanent somehow. More real.  With a slow breath, i took the wig and carefully settled it over my head. He stepped closer, gently adjusting a loose strand, tucking it behind my ear before turning me toward the mirror. “There,” he whispered. “Now look.” I barely recognized the person staring back. The familiar features were still there, yet softened, framed in a way he’d only imagined during countless private fantasies. My cheeks flushed. “I look…” “You look like someone who’s finally stopped hiding,” he finished.  For a long moment, I couldn’t speak. I simply stared at my reflection, feeling excitement, vulnerability, and quiet wonder merge into something I never experienced before.  

2/13/23 Hey everyone just wanted to make an update to my profile with this Journal.... My profile pics are from 2017 but I am always willing to send newer ones. Some new developments in my life are: I am no longer owned cause My old daddy moved away, I found out I also like being a sissy baby but if your not into thats okay Its not something I have to do. I also am willing to relocate! So if you are looking for a prissy sissy slut like me msg me. Thanks for reading this, Love Sissy Amber

Now that a vast majority of the 'Oh Hey journals are back!" have been done, lets take a minute to update this.   So heres the gyst of what I would LOVE to find, in an ideal world and ideal time...  We want a cis female slave.  Males are good FOR OTHER USES but thats not what I am looking for as a priority, there MAY be that option but remember the use I have for you is seveirly limited. The slave that I am lookin for needs to understand that I PRESS HARD for information.  I WANT you to ask questions and am dissapointed when you just answer in 1, 2, or 3 word answers.   I will NEVER be with anyone without birth control.  I as the Master, may be having that issue taken care of, of my own accord, because I already have one daughter, who doesn't live with me, and I dont want any more children. Otherwise, any prospective slave should read our full profile and write back. male slave/s be known that if you are not local there is little to no chances for you..  Even local males, you have a purpose,  yes, but o e that is not domestic or sexual,  and to be honestMOST of the male slaves that have come forwardare not even appealingto the eyes.  Now as to the current update... Mouse has left my service as of Dec 14th. I FOUND a new appartment, so my search for a slave has resumed, again read my profile CAREFULLY because I will call you on it lol. I dont know how many times I have had to say this...  If you are INTERNATIONAL do NOT boter to write to me, male, female, rich, poor, doesn't matter, international relocation is a hassle and with Covid GOOD LUCK getting a flight over here.

For more information see profile under same name...   Update:   Mother on month 7 of sleep therapy.  Yes it makes ALL THE DIFFERENCE.  Meanwhile, I'm navigating a new normal.  Some days you just need to 'smile and wave', put in the induction earphones and carry on... I can always tell when something AMAZING is around the corner.  There is always that s q u e e z e just before.  This is a big s q u e e z e so I know it is going to be GREAT!  Looking forward to My minions coming lol  If this time has taught Me anything it is laugh cry do what you have to do and take no prisoners.  Never more true were the words than -to thine own self be true.  It's all you have at the end of the day and if you are really super lucky, you may have some company along the way.  Needless to say the squeeze in this life is just about choking the every living life out of Me.  With God leading the way, I follow the light fully armed. On a personal front I continue to be grateful for those who share their path with Me.  Each of Us is learning and growing in our understanding of ourselves and one another.  Layiing the foundation for the time to come has been invaluable and all of us are looking foward to what will be. In the meantime and until such time as the house is full, I am seeking and have availability to share in conversation after dinner most nights.

Realy excited about Victorian lifestyle / Era as in this lifestyle, we are were expected to adhere to strict standards of propriety and modesty. We are expected to be submissive to our husbands and fathers, and to prioritize their domestic duties over any other pursuits. Women were not seen as equal to men. In a Victorian marriage, a wife was expected to be obedient to her husband and to support him in all of his endeavors. She was also expected to manage the household, including caring for the children and running the household finances. A wife was expected to be loyal to her husband, and to maintain a façade of respectability and propriety in all interactions with others. In the Victorian era, a wife was expected to have a number of duties and responsibilities. These included managing the household, caring for the children, and supporting her husband in his endeavors. One of a wife's primary duties was to manage the household. This included overseeing the cooking, cleaning, and other domestic tasks. A wife was also expected to manage the household finances, which involved paying the bills and keeping track of the family budget. In addition to managing the household, a wife was also responsible for caring for the children. This included feeding, bathing, and dressing the children, as well as supervising their education and moral upbringing. Finally, a wife was expected to support her husband in his endeavors. This could include attending social events with him, providing emotional support, and helping him with his work if necessary. Overall, a wife in the Victorian era was expected to fulfill a range of duties and responsibilities in order to support her husband and maintain a happy and well-run household.

I’m at a point in life where I’m genuinely ready for love and a long-term relationship built on emotional depth, chemistry, and mutual investment. I’m drawn to men who are grounded, emotionally aware, communicative, and naturally attentive to the person they care about. I give deeply when I choose someone (like the Leo I am). And I’m drawn to people who naturally feel inspired to meet that energy, or even exceed it. I notice when someone shows up with care and initiative. I’m not looking for potential or vague curiosity. I’m looking for someone who actively wants to build something real, evolve together, and hopefully explore power-exchange through a FLR.  I created a questionnaire as a doorway into that exploration. You sharing real experiences matter more than theoretically "correct" answers. If you feel intrigued rather than intimidated you’re probably in the right place ❤️ Submit your answers here: https://forms.gle/6Ui8kVrZasXGZmc8A  /Miss Trevligheter

The intent of the submissive makes the difference in how their submission is received.     In order to be considered submissive, the action must have intent by the submissive and be received as submission by me.  What is the intent of the offer? his or Mine? Is the offer of submission on condition of what he gets out of it?     It's funny how that works when the Domiant considers what is offered. Does it serve the Dominant?     If what is being offered is not what I want or desire or makes me all warm and fuzzy, I don't consider it submissive.  Just because the general populous believes "doing the act" is submissive does not mean I accept it as submissive.     I do not consider any sexual act offered to be submissive. Some Dominants do, but it's truly an individual choice.     I see submission as intent, obedience, and devotion. 

I have not written a note in so long. Life has been changing so much lately. new job, different city, then another new job and another old city. Now I am on a summer sabbatical of travel through the Atlanta and Savannah areas because I find it peaceful and love both cities for different reasons.   I need a new boy. A real boy with great energy, quiet strength and a cute smile.   I want him to dance for me. I want him to cook for me and share his secret thoughts that he seems too shy to tell anyone else. I want him naked and begging for me. I want him to clean and work for me. I want him to smile for me. I want that sweetness that is calm and not weak while also not being arrogant. I want him to NOT know everything because I still do NOT. I should be the ONE who gets to decide everything but I should NOT HAVE to be the ONE who THINKS of everything.   I wonder if this is to be found anywhere? I will hope for it. You don't have to be a perfect boy to start with me, but you do have to HOPE to become one for me.

This success of this site is based on transparency. You're a 52 year old dominant man in Miami who lives for NASCAR and wax play. Super. Got it. In my opinion, the level of effort you put into your profile directly relates to your commitments. It's so odd to see someone say that it takes forever for profiles to update so they take the lazy approach and update a journal entry. Yep, I said it. Lazy. Dom or sub, doesn't matter. You've gone to the trouble of creating a profile to find someone for whatever reason. Now you aren't willing to commit to the effort it takes to update for accuracy. The only effort needed is a bit of patience. Patience to adjust your information. Patience to adapt your description to make you more interesting, or at least approachable. I'll write more later... No, you won't. Someone who might be looking for exactly you is going to pass you by because now you're 56 and moved to Sheboygan but won't update so they'll never see it. You're shooting yourself in the foot. Not that anyone asked me. 

I'm bemused by the number of people who ask me what I'm looking for on here, or whether they can locate or contact me elsewhere. The first should be fairly obvious, I'd think, to anyone who's read my profiles here. As for the second part... I'm quite easy to find. *chuckle* I've determined that after 29 years, I'm just not as interested in chatting online as I once was, and I find small getting-to-know-you talk tedious. I love getting to the meaty topics, though, which is why The F0rm exists.  If, after you've thoroughly read my profiles here (BlueFyre and BlueAngelFyre) and on Fet, and you'd still like to be considered for being in my service, peruse my writing on FL of "The F0rm - What TF and Why TF?!" Once you've completed a section or more, reach out to me and send your responses. After that, I'm sure there will be plenty to discuss. ;)   --Blue (=

 I am guessing that a lot of men here, and I don’t blame them, really, just want someone to look at their cock and tell them they did a good job by having one. But honestly, is that what D/s is? I thought that a Dom was a man that had figured out how to seduce a woman and liked seduction. I thought the whole point was for them to use their power in ways to see what they could do. Where are these men? I feel like I have more power now than ever and am so disappointed at the lack of creativity and artistry. What is up you guys? Within minutes of making a connection a man says ‘you will be my whore’ which is a bit much, but ok, my dude, let’s see what you’ve got? Make me your whore! Just you telling me I will be your whore really isn’t so effective. Plus you don’t mean it, you might mean you want someone you can jack off to/with, which is cool, but that’s not your whore, that’s just a whore. And being a whore, which is also fine, is not what I am looking to experience. I am surely worth more than that.  When I think about being a man’s whore, well I get very excited. I think about the possibilities for so many interesting and intriguing things, I want to give this person pleasure, I want to focus on them, learn how to serve them. I want us to build a connection that allows for mutuality. I want to want to be really bad for him.   But it’s a relationship and in my mind an important one and perhaps I am wrong but when I offer myself up sexually to someone it’s kind of sacred to me. I take the thing seriously, I am good at devotion.  There have been men that believed they very much wanted me to be their whore, but with the exception of a very few,  they weren’t really getting me, and though they seemed very much committed to ‘the idea of idea’ of the dynamic, they  weren’t able to be realistic- like they lacked maturity or experience. I totally thought I would be able to find someone to teach me something. And I am mean, I am not that evolved. I am sure I have a lot to learn. Are my expectations out of bounds? Am I wrong about what this D/s thing has come to be about? Any sane person out there want to share a prespective on this for me?   No need to attack me, I am seirously just speaking from my own experience.

Gratitude and Adoration slave needs to Iive in a world of gratitude and adoration. The more it emphasizes those two mental attributes, the happier it will be accepting its true slave self. My training will help it develop these two alternate mental states, slave.

6:00 me: Should I take a nap? It's kinda late. Maybe I should just power through... ... 6:03 me: Okay, a quick nap. The puppy will wake me up. ... ... And she did. At 9:00. So that is why I baked a cake and cleaned the kitchen at midnight.  She woke me barking like mad at the noise outside. She is the nosiest of neighbors. I even bought her an ottoman and set it near the window, though in truth it's also for my benefit so she'll stop ruining the pillows on the chair she has claimed as her lookout spot. Does she use the ottoman? Of course not. It's now after 1. I'm awake. I need to be up in five hours, bribe her to eat, pack, not forget the stuff in the fridge, and get on the road. Chances of me being on time? Place your bets. 

Hello everyone...  subMeghan here. As rerquired by my dom, as I type this I am sitting here naked, except for my dog collar and glasses...  what else is new... I had an interesting chat with a user here and I have come to the conclusion that I am pretty terrible submissive.  The problem is that I am a sub for my dom, and only my dom.  I am not your sub.  My dom has directed me to be polite, not submissive, towards you all.  For us it is role playing. So, not only am I not a 24/7 sub, I am not inclined to behave like a sub unless I'm with my dom. So the dilemma for me is, How should I interact with you all?  I've taken the approach that being a sub is like my "job", and that when I'm here, I'm off work.  I'm not working, but perfectly happy to talk about my job. I don't think this approach is working out to well...  and I think that a lot of times my one on one interactions with you all are not satifying. What do you all think?  Should I modify my profile?  If so, what should it say? I'm really interested in what you all think.  Send me a message, and let me knbow what you think?   subMeghan  

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

Tonight I Want...   It was Monday and Daddy text messaged her around 10am:   “White knee highs”   She smiled. She loved getting his texts. It made the day 100 times better because she knew he was thinking about her.   At noon came the next message:   “Red butt plug.”   Candi gulped.  The red butt plug wasn’t one of the smaller in their collection.  She clenched remembering how full she’d felt the last time Daddy let her wear it.  She probably should even leave about 30 minutes earlier just to work it into her ass and be ready for him when he got home.   At 2pm came two more messages:   “mouth”   “swallow”   Daddy’s Monday was probably not going so well.  She was sure Daddy''s evening would be better.   He came in the door and after looking through the day’s mail he grabbed a cold beer and headed into the living room where his favorite chair waited.  He could smell the dinner his little girl had in the crock pot and was glad the evening was shaping up to be relatively low key and not demanding.  Work had been tough and he was looking forward to the plans he’d set in motion that morning.   Using the remote on the entertainment system he turned on some music, kicked off his shoes and threw his head back closing his eyes and just waited.  He’d hoped she wouldn’t keep him waiting long.  A whipping hadn’t been in tonight’s plans, but he’d improvise if he had to.   She heard the music come on and knew he was settled.  She’d gotten home early, stripped, showered and slipped on her special little girl socks.  Then lying on her side and lubing the red butt plug up, she worked it slowly past her tight sphincter, some tears filling her eyes as the large bulb stretched her wide before finally pushed beyond her opening, the thankful muscle finally closing around the much smaller stem.  She’d been holding her breath until the vacuum had sucked the plug inside her hastening the feeling of fullness and she exhaled in relief.  Daddy had specified wearing only socks and the plug.  She wished he’d let her wear even a see-thru nightie or even a tight, white blouse, but that’s not what he wanted.  She’d also taken her shoulder length blond hair and pulled them into two pigtails.  Just the right amount of hair for Daddy to hold onto.