suckyD 

Bound by Control: A Lesson In Surrender. Full story can be found on :https://www.thefetlibrary.com/story/1ead86ef-90ee-4925-b04d-93156fff8932 He woke up with a jolt, his body aching from the previous night's activities. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized he was alone in the room. Chrissie was nowhere to be seen. Panic surged through him as he tried to move, only to find his ankles still tied and something else. An unfamiliar weight on his cock. He pulled the thin sheet off and looked in horror. There was cock cage firmly in place   His heart raced as he scanned the room, his gaze landing on a note resting on the nightstand. With trembling hands, he reached for it, his eyes quickly scanning the contents:   "It won't come off without damage to your balls. I'll be in touch."   His breath hitched, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through him. Chrissie's words echoed in his mind, a reminder of her absolute control. He was at her mercy, completely dependent on her for release and relief.   He tested the cock cage, the cold metal pressing against his skin. The note was clear: it wasn't going anywhere, and he couldn't remove the cage without risking serious harm.

 Falcone9 

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

 blkbitchincharge 

Awaken to gentle licks upon my labia and the tickle of your facial hair on my inner thighs  You knowing my body and realizing that sucking my clit is not what gets me going  But that gentle tongue massage on my lower lips causes me to softly moan and drip with wetness  I'm in the euphoria of emotional bliss  Slow intense grinding along with the need to run  I'm about to explode  What a way to wake up,  as the main course I've trained you well and you know how to please  Now, I will lay you back, tie you up, or leave you free  I know before I'm done you'll be screaming please!

 Blkitchincharge 

    Need me to rub your belly???? Feel the warmth of my lip and gentle flow of my breath As I softly kiss around your naval My breast slide over your penis. You feel the warmth of my breath It's hard and pulsating   I can feel it throbbing Tell me that you want me I stand and allow you to undress me I push you back on the bed Leaning over you, looking into your eyes, I place a kiss on your head So nice and hard I must taste Pulsating in my mouth Leaking a juice so sweet I crawl on the bed and pull you on top of me and tell you Put it inside me now!!! I am so aroused I cum quickly Working on my next explosion Grabbing you and pulling you deeper inside me I am taking every inch of you My breast are bouncing And you gentle hold them down as you suck pull and bite my nipples I tell you not to move I just want to feel myself grinding on you I cum again So nice and hot as it squirts all over us both I slap your ass and tell you fuck me hard We repo to a scissor position My knee bent to my face as you lean in for leverage I rub my clit as you are pounding my pussy I cum again I tell you to take your cock out and rub my juices around my pussy and ass I make you stand and I suck my juices off your cock and balls I play with your cock rubbing sucking and stroking. Massaging your balls, so very hard You moan and you want to grab my head and I tell you not to touch Edging you and then easing off I slow the licking and sucking down You have some much sweet juice just leaking I allow drops on my breast I rub the head over my nipples covering my breast with your juice I think shall I let you cum?   You say oh yes mistress plea

 CosmicCunt 

Things are ramping up and a little closer we crawl tug tug of that net for one and for all... ******************** Found out Mum has moderate sleep apnea.  40% of alz patients do.  funny thing about amolyoid protiens, seems they only break down during REM.  No sleep, No REM. No REM. No Brain.  70% O2 levels = BRAIN DAMAGE. Seems to Me mandatory health screening for sleep/breathing/bmi disorders need be the call of the day, especially in terms of a dementia diagnosis! Also... What in blazing hell is with ER's with no TV for DEMENTIA PATIENTS!?!   DEMENTIA:  1 HOUR = 1 DAY; 1 DAY = 1 WEEK. 1 WEEK - 1 MONTH 1 MONTH - 3 MONTHS Imagine being denied TV or computer or anytihng which gave you sanity for an entire week in the hospital!  How stable, or rational, or healthy are you? Its barbaric and borderline abusive.  Specialists are needed in the ER, just like for a child, and in terms of dementia for ordering food, diet, entertainment.  To expect a comprimised, handicap person to "entertain" theirselves or to be mature enough to handle the ER is a fail for society. ***************** Best wishes   

 WitchyVibesDoeEyes 

Wenn dass Liebe ist, dann fass ich dich nicht an. Wenn das Liebe ist, kommst du nicht an mich ran. Wenn das Liebe ist, dann geh mir aus dem Weg. Wenn das Liebe ist, dann kommt sie für uns zu spät.   (Wenn das Liebe ist) (Wenn das Liebe ist) Beiß mir auf die Zunge, Schließ die Augen für mich Drück mir die Luft aus der Lunge, dann verrat' ich mich nicht Beiß mir auf die Zunge, denn der Schmerz aus mir spricht Reiß mir das Herz aus der Brust, dann erschlägt es dich

 Hairdoslv4u 

I have now collared and own NJ Slave1010. It worships me without exception and without question. I have erased most thoughts from its mind, so all it knows is worshipping me, adoring me, thinking about me. I have inserted certain words in its head. So when It reads them or hears them or says them Its’ slave worm, which is now mine, goes to instant erection in honor of me. Only I can grant what is now mine release, not it anymore. And it suffers deeply for me has declared its undying slave love to me.. If any other slaves would love to be my slave and fall deeply in love with me. writing slave love letters to me. Then you can contact me here. You will worship me, adore me, and obey me. I will also instill a bouffant and salon fetish in you where you worship the bouffant Women Having their hair styled in exotic, full, thick. Updo bouffant hairdos and rollers or under dryers like the goddesses they deserve to be. This also goes for CDs who are into this also, I would love to have you worship me getting your hair done in large exotic hairdos under dryers and in large rollers for me.

 TotalOwnerforslave 

Communicating with Me.   Prospective slave property may want to go out of their way to show respect for Me as its potential Owner. So, how to show respect?   Here are a some guidelines: In each and every sentence addressed to Me slave should include the honorariums Sir, Master or both. Capitalization as demonstrated in this message should be observed, while, using lower case for any reference to it. To ask Me a question is allowed only with My permission. Since we are not face to face, it may beg permission from Me to be permitted to ask a question. No matter My response, it should always expressed gratitude taking My time begging for permission. There is a ritual for a slave to observe regarding getting permission to ask a question when in My presence. Gratitude is essential in growing proper mind set in a slave. it should never miss an opportunity to express gratitude. Flattering Me is encouraged. Repetition of the same flattering phrases is not. It must read all of My writings.  It should expect to travel to Me for inspection.   Until it have been inspected and taken to training, it has free choice, without recrimination, to observe the foregoing guidelines, or not. Without recriminations means its lack of following the guide lines will not keep it from having a successful inspection and entering the trial period.

 Museandwolf 

Don't give up my first journal. Hi I'm mistress muse and I am dominant to my wolf.  If there is one thing that being on the scene has taught me, it would be to never give up. I spent so long in fruitless vanilla relationships that although, true, filled with love and all the nice things that people claim to experience in these things it also carried with it a weight. It was like a brick in my chest, a wrong feeling, an alone feeling, a dark hopeless feeling, a sinking if you will. Which in a way was true I was drowning I was drowning in self doubt I was drowning in a sea of misunderstandings and depravity. The love I craved seemed so taboo it almost seemed impossible to obtain. I may have been looking in the wrong places but even kinky people I've known for years on the scene would often look baffled if I piped up some of my perversions. I then met someone I had known in a completely vanilla setting... So vanilla in fact even he hadn't really noticed me before... a friend who knew of his kinks thought we would be quite suited. Looking back now I find it amusing that both him and I scoffed at the idea but Kinky curiosity got the better of us. There was this feeling everytime we spoke... A feeling of understanding... A good feeling... A weightless feeling soon combined with a feeling of want. I wanted this man... I was fucking getting him. On the scene for years he has been known as z3ro (zero) but ladies gents and pets let me tell you this he is anything but a zero so from the very beginning I have refused to use this name for him. He became my Wølf, my alpha bitch, my sub, my friend, my mirror and my PARTNER. I have used this term quite freely in the past but with him it's different. He is my partner in crime he is my play partner he is my intellectual chewing gum. He turns my head and the way my brain works. I never thought it was possible to find someone to just get me and be able to match my sadistic evil streak. To find someone on the same interlectual level as me. For me to find someone just as twisted as me. For this I am grateful and this is why my wisdom(me) for the day is this.... JUST DON'T GIVE UP

 Madametanya 

As a More Typically Dominant CD Gurl it is easy to become frustrated and disalusioned with being Dominant when you do not have anyone reliable to Dominate. Too many panty wearers who think that is Crossdressing and never want to go beyond that. As stated previously, most CD Gurls also have a Submissive nature, but does not appear until she meets a more aggressive and Dominant CD Gurl or a Dominant Male who knows how to entice a CD Gurl to go under His spell. Since a CD knows the fun of being chased, a more Dominant CD gurl is usually the chaser, it is easier than imagined to switch and become the submissive once a more powerful force cums and takes you. All your other ideas become more of a fantasy and the overpowering reality of being taken and controlled seems so easy to succumb to. Sort of like a Moth being drawn into the fire, but knowing you will not return to the way you were is the daunting temptation of being seduced. In messaging with some ex-slaves they said the hardest thing to deal with was boredom when not used often enough for domestic and sexual servitude. All the changes and different usage was something all slaves learn to comply with and a Master's Protocol was Law. So an idle CD Gurl can easily be drawn into a Life of Servitude as a Submissive Slave, and knowing this can cause this to be an uncontollable yearning that can not be denied? So........??? Once the door closes behind you, you will be a slave to a MASTER. From messaging with several Masters, the general consensus seems to be if a potential slave is 1st properly broken and deprived of it's dignity it will become completely subjugated and dependant on satisfying it's Master as it's only goal and reward. It will not yearn or miss anything or anyone from it's previous life. Then the slave will be a slave that can be trained to any Master's protocols and it's new slavic life of eternal servitude. Even if the slave is required to wear a cuckold device it no longer thinks about having orgasms or masturbating. A properly trained slave seeks to give it's Master sexual stimulation with orgasms. To simply deny a slave what it once had and craved in it's previous life, it will still think about those things when it is left in isolation and restraints. The slave might even be considering a way to escape? Properly broken a slave never thinks about the past. It's life belongs to it's Master. Master decides everything. You probably will never have a female again. You might never wear clothes again, but if you do, the clothes will be chosen for you. Might be as little as a jock strap? You might never wear girlie girl fem clothes as you once loved to wear. You will no longer be bi-sexual, you will be 100% Gay for your Male Master. You will be Owned Property.

 bdsmsubmissive93 

playing without permission She lays there naked covered up with just a sheet right hand inching to her soaked pussy finger finds it way to her throbbing swollen clit legs spread she gently rubs it she lets out a low slow moan her left hand gripping the bed she speads up rubbing the throbbing swollen clit her moans gets louder shes playing with no permission she feels naughty thinking and day dreaming of his hand around her throat squeezing and releasing as he speaks am i understood she doesnt dare to make eye contact the day dream is going so well she cums without thinking she moans louder and no one can hear her

 pizzapuppiescows 

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. 

 suckyD 

  A day in service    I rise at dawn, my body sore, To chores and tasks, and much, much more. The floor I scrub, the dust I chase, A flick of the wrist, a stern command sets the pace.   Her coffee brewed, just so, just right, I dare not fail, in morning's light. Her silk robe flows, a queenly sight, I bow my head, avoid her light.   The day is long, a string of tests, To prove my worth, to quell her jests. A word of praise, a precious prize, Reflected in her knowing eyes.   The afternoon, a humbler task, Her boots to clean, that's all I ask. To kneel and wipe, to polish well, The story that my movements tell.   The sun descends, the day is done, The final test has now begun. She summons me with one sharp look, My place is found, my writing's in a book.   Her throne awaits, a velvet chair, I crawl toward her, breathless, aware. The day's devotion finds its end, My goddess, whom I can't transcend.   Her sacred space, my final quest, My weary head upon her breast. My tongue performs the rite so true, My world is her, in every hue.

 MistressHowl 

Theres a huge huge difference between people who do things for you because they have to, through obligation manipulation coercion threats or whateverVersus people who do things for you simply because they adore you and want you to be happyThe 1st set are worthless to MeThe 2nd ... Priceless Not saying I don't enjoy enticing puppeting manipulating coercing even mindfkg .. bc I absolutely do!!  In fact I used to find subliminal manipulation and blatant MindFucks particularly entertaining..  allatime everywhere lol weg But only for Funsies with wellbonded friends at the Trust level of ConsensualNonconsent .. which I had with so many onceupon.  Good times!! But so many relocated .. and too many passed, sobs .. venues closed, everythings Different, the World has Changed ..as it always does, and as must I, again. Ik Ik. "The best way to predict ones future is to create it."    Shame Quality Muses seem superscarce this decade. ah well. Def past time to explore new Hunting Grounds irl .. nilla and alt .. hmm believe theres an alt party 12 16 somewhere .. 

 Bikinisub 

Two Amazons are throwing a Frisbee. This wasn't just another pool day.  It was our friend's birthday.  She asked if she could spend Saturday with us at our pool.  The weather was going to be nice and the water was nice and cool.  My wife prepared a cooler with ice and drinks.  She set up three lounge chairs next to each other by the pool.   Our friend came and we started the party.  She brought kinky shots and we had drinks and grooved to the music while we sunbathed.  When it got warm we jumped into the pool.  My sub was in between us making sure we were well oiled.  I could tell she was enjoying herself.   After awhile, I grabbed a Frisbee and began tossing it to our friend.  She got on one side of the pool and I was on the other.  My sub, smiling, watched us catch the disc behind our backs, between our legs and other tricks.  There we were, two tall athletic bikini girls having fun.  My wife enjoyed every minute of it.  

 BecomingMegan 

Frequently Asked Questions: Q: How is your search going? A: Are you fucking kidding me with this question!? If my search to become a slave was going well I wouldn't fucking be here would I?  My search sucks because of assholes who send me emails that say, you look like you'd be a good fuck, how's your search going?  I hate my search.  I hate being allowed to use a computer and have a profile here.  I hate that I'm allowed on the internet.  I hate having rights.  That's how my search is going you fucking idiot.   Q: Are you on hormones? A: Well are you on viagra or Cialis?  How's your blood pressure?  Do you still get full erections?  If you think this is an appropriate question to ask someone in a first email then you are not intelligent enough to own me.  I'm so sorry that you're too dumb to own me.  It could have been really special but I'm a real cunt who doesn't answer medical questions to perfect strangers who think THAT is a good way to break the ice.   Q:  How's it going? A: It's going fine.  I am blown away by what an amazing first email this is and I want to be yours now.  You are clearly the one.  You asked me how it's going.  No one has ever thought to start an email like that before.  You are so unique and charming I can help but want to suck every drop of cum out of your cock that I can.   Q: Your profile says you're 18 but you've been here for years. A: Wow. You're super smart.  No fooling you.  No Sir.  I tried to pull a fast one but you were all over it and now I'm busted.  You got me.  It has nothing to do with the fact that this site doesn't update age on it's own and updating it myself means my profile might be down for weeks while they approve it if ever.  Here's an idea though.  Since you're so clever why don't you add the number of years I've been here to the age listed on my profile and conclude that's how I old I am now.     Q: Wanna be my slave? A: No.    Q: Do you really think you're going to find a Master with an attitude like that? A: Yes.  He just won't be you.  Unfortunately, you are a moron.   Q: You're very beautiful. A: That's not a question but it is something every asshole on this site says to me so you saying it to me makes you exactly as special to me as it makes every other dude.   Q: You're so funny.  I can't believe these guys ask you all these dumb questions.  They are all idiots.  I loved the sassy way you dealt with them in your FAQs.  It's too bad there are so many fake doms on this site.   A: Shut up.  This is almost as lame as the You're very beautiful or Are you on hormones emails. I get it.  You read the FAQs.  You must be better than the rest.  Oh please Master, let me lick Your asshole clean now.  You are amazing.    

 quirkylittle4daddy 

              Pop That: Unpacking the Brat, Bimbo, and Babygirl Archetypes in Lightskinkeisha’s Anthem some people would look at this song called pop that by the rapper lightskinkeisha as just a ratchet trashy song and move on from there. it is ratchet, but there's more to the picture going on here if you choose to see it.   if you look at the artist lightskinkeisha as a little girl or babygirl this song no longer becomes just a trashy ratchet fun song, but an anthem for an identity within the lifestyle. an anthem of a brat.   the song itself is bombastic and dance y and very bubblegum gritty. but if you take the song and put it through a transpose app or use a tool to transpose it and make the pitch of her voice higher and the speed of the song faster, it transforms it even into another identity if you choose to see...the bimbo.   and so we get the three way combo with a simple song pop that...   babygirl   bimbo   brat   the great thing too is you can look at it individually from each of these lenses, or you can work on seeing it through two at a time, or you can look at it with all three.   people sometimes forget that while someone can be a babygirl that is also a bimbo and a brat, that just because you are a brat it doesn't mean that you are a bimbo, and that some bimbos are also little girls too. i personally don't really live in this world most of the time. but sometimes i have a bit of a brat behavior to me behind the keyboard as the writer. but i like to write about various sides of what the identity of a little girl is. and when i consume media, i see the different sides of what a babygirl is, even if it's not directly relatable to me.   because this is a fun silly pop bop there isn't much to decipher from lyrics wise. while i use esoteric and spiritual references for pop media i don't pull things out of thin air just for the content. however, there are some stanzas' i'd like to focus on.   Big Bank Beisha, bitch Tre Trax, I think we got one, haha It's Trax season bruh   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   when it's a song that is over the top the themes are going to be over the top. one might be initially put off at the focus on her getting men to spend lots of money on her but if you reframe it in the bimbo/brat perspective it makes more sense. she's an exaggerated version of femininity, she's talking about the guy in an exaggerated version of masculinity. and if you see it in a brat frame it's also her testing her boundaries with the guy. the entire rambunctiousness is all about how far can she go before getting 'caught'. how much can she push before it's too much. how wild can she be before she tips it over and breaks it. i see these less about a materialism, and less about superficialness and more about brashness, boundaries, bodaciousness, and crass. especially in a closed relationship it's seeing how smart can you get before you consensually get punished, smacked, talked back to, reprimanded.   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma throw that ass back and shake it in a circle (damn) Got your man lookin', yeah, he like the way I work it He gon' blow some racks on me because he know it's worth it (blow it) Body snatched with a face to match, call me perfect Daisy Dukes on, bend it over like Ms. Parker (hey Ms. Parker) Pretty redbone, bitch, I'm badder than a toddler Drop it to the floor and make 'em spend their last dollar All this milk that I'm shakin' make the boys wanna holler   while you could say that lightskinkeisha's reference to badder than a toddler is randomized if you look at her bigger pieces of work it makes sense why when this comes out i squeal with joy. it's a reference of being seen. it's an aesthetic, it's a insider's throwback to if you know you know. she has many songs that reference daddy for the male partner she sings about. and she often references the dynamics of the songs with a power dynamic power scale going on there. an uneven power balance by choice where it's not an equal relationship.   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that,   I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   Booty, make it bounce, I'ma drop it (drop it) Shake it so fast, I can't stop it (stop it) Make him wanna hit it like a Bop It (twist it) Bust it wide open, I'ma pop it   I'ma look back at it while I shake it on his lap (lap) Got a big ole booty, you can give that shit some dap My pussy taste like Fiji while your pussy taste like tap (Fiji) When he slap that booty, bitch, it's gonna bounce back (haha)   Throw it back, watch me throw it back Got my Daisy Dukes on, I don't know how to act Walk up in the building, make them niggas spend a bag Ho, I been it, that's why you bitches really mad, hold on   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) Fuck it up, bitch Fuck it up, bitch   I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it up) I'ma pop that, I'ma pop that (you better fuck it u

 mastergcs 

People may choose to participate in a consensual slave and Master/slave (M/s) household for a variety of reasons. Some may find power exchange and BDSM practices to be sexually and emotionally fulfilling. They may enjoy the feeling of submission and the pleasure that comes from serving and pleasing their partner. For some people, the BDSM lifestyle may be a way to explore their own desires and boundaries, and to express their individuality in a way that feels authentic to them. Others may enjoy the structure and discipline of a M/s dynamic. They may find that this lifestyle allows them to feel more organized, productive and focus. It could also provide a sense of security, knowing that they have a strong leader who guides them and makes decisions for them. Additionally, some people may find the roles and dynamics of a M/s household to be a way to explore and express their individuality. They may find that the lifestyle allows them to break free from societal norms and expectations, and to create a unique and fulfilling life for themselves. It is important to note that M/s households are different from abusive relationships and coercion. The foundation of all is based on mutual consent, trust, and communication. In a M/s household, both parties must be aware of and agree to the terms of the dynamic and all activities must be consensual. Ultimately, the motivations for participating in this type of lifestyle can be personal and unique to each individual. It is important to remember that everyone's experience and desires are different, and that there is no right or wrong way to participate in BDSM or a M/s lifestyle.

 C0SMICCUNT 

Creating My household - Chat. Meet. Do. Lifetime position - Primary care attendant for My mother with Mid/late stage Alzheimer's.  Google it.  36 Hour day.  Live it. Under My ownership, mother shall be your charge and responsibility going forward.  Requirements:  Genteel.  Never use harsh words or swear.  Affectionate.  Exceptional grasp of the English language. Knowledgeable and amenable.  Must like dogs.  Short day trips - movies, lunch, thrifting.  Ensuring proper daily exercise.  Naughty nice school boys to the head of the line.   This position works well for someone who likes to be in the home and on hand, actively engaged in domestic duties, preparing meals and calmly engaging mother with leisure activities.  I will be responsible for My mothers personal and grooming needs until such time as a slave is well and thoroughly installed.  Personal services may then be granted.    

 SilverPapaBear 

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

 Master23Mike 

House of M UpdateDamaged (and Slightly Broken) As the song goes, "You're just broken. You're a little bit damaged, I'm a sucker for that" Something you might have seen in one of our past posts - "Seeking a slave who's slightly damaged" But what does it mean to us and why is it important to me and the House of M. First, We are all just a little broken and damaged inside. Nobody gets thru life without some degree of trauma, but so many of us just keep moving blindly forward, mindless of the bruises and scars that shape our actions every day of our life. We want those who are not blind to their trauma, and more, know how it impacts them and are connected enough with their inner self to confront it, so their brokenness does not blindly shape their life. Second, broken and damage adds flavor, uniqueness, and depth. Another song goes, "You might have fewer scars, but I'll have better stories" is absolutely true. I have found that those scars create depth of character and more interesting people. We love your scars! Third, to truly be able to be sympathetic to another, you have to have experienced struggles of your own. We want those who can be genuine, very real, and deeply emotionally naked with us as kinky people and vanilla ones too. If you cannot know the path we have walked, how can you truly "be" as real as we need you to be. Fourth, broken and damage leads to alternative methods to "cope". For whatever reason, it has been my experience that those who are slightly broken and damaged, have the deepest craving for kink. Could it be because they have found their healthy coping mechanism in their kink? Could it be that really letting go in the lifestyle is easier, deeper, more fulfilling because the kink, quiets the voices, eases the pain, brings the sensations that triggers that dopamine rush they need? Perhaps A causes B, who knows? Perhaps? Important: We will never take advantage of anyone. (That causes further abuse or harm). We respect each other, create a supportive environment, and are ALWAYS SAFE and SANE in our time together. So as long as it is healthy, we love help each other cope! Those who might hear manipulation or abusive use in this fourth aspect, know that is NOT it. Fifth, we are stronger together. In our House, we care for one another. Master is a Daddy, and Babygirl has a strong Mommy streak. There is big time nurture aspaspects going on here. We support each other. We care for each other. Our style of blending kink and vanilla lends itself to supporting each other. This is a value of our House that we take very seriously. So YES, we learned long ago that we connect the most with those who are slightly broken, slightly damaged. Our House will always be a safe (and exciting) place for you

 Mickeyfin43 

I could Not update my profile without risking a long approval period, so I am updating here! my age is 47, not sure why that never updates. I am Heterosexual not pan sexual (not sure how that got changed). I am worth the time and effort, a one of a kind woman, who is not soon forgotten.  Looking for a male Dom in my area for real time. I am a sub, I will NOT send you dirty pics. Please be single and available, please be real, please be honest, please have your life together, as I do.  I am again looking for real time, would prefer a HOH type arrangement or relationship. Please be ready to verify who You are and meet within a reasonable timeframe! I am a loyal sub, I am kind and understanding, and mostly obedient ;).  I do not play games and expect you wouldn't want to either.  I like to travel, read, go to the beach, and write. I can hold a conversation. I hope you can as well!  I am passionate about this lifestyle and see it as a way of life, not a bedroom game.  thank you for looking at my profile! 

 littlerabbitgirl 

 Captive Desire   The night was quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling. Olivia Bennett sighed, shutting her laptop with a soft click. Midnight again. She stretched, rolling the tension from her shoulders, and glanced around the empty house.   Jake was away on business. Connor was at a sleepover.   It was just her.   And then—a sound.   A soft, deliberate thud from the garage.   Her pulse spiked. She sat still, listening, waiting. The house held its breath.   Another sound—this time a scrape, like something dragging across concrete.   Her heart hammered as she stood. Probably nothing. A box falling, the wind knocking over the broom—something harmless.   Still, she grabbed her phone and padded downstairs, flicking on the hallway light. The garage door loomed ahead.   She hesitated.   Then, hand trembling, she unlocked it and stepped into the cool, dimly lit space.   The scent of motor oil and dust filled her nose. Her car sat untouched. The shelves were undisturbed. Everything looked normal.   A sigh of relief left her lips—   And then the light went out.   Darkness swallowed her.   The shift in the air was immediate.   A presence.   Her breath hitched.   Before she could move, strong arms wrapped around her, yanking her back against a hard, unyielding chest. A gloved hand clamped over her mouth, stifling her scream.   Hot breath tickled her ear.   “Shhh,” a low, masculine voice murmured. “Don’t fight it.”   Her pulse slammed against her ribs.   She struggled, kicking, thrashing—but he was too strong.   A thick cloth pressed to her mouth, something sickly sweet invading her senses. Her limbs grew heavy. The world tilted.   Darkness.   She woke to a whisper against her skin.   The air was thick, warm, carrying the scent of something rich—cologne, leather, danger.   She stirred, wrists bound above her, ankles tied to the posts of a bed—his bed.   Her breath caught.   The room was dim, candlelit, casting flickering shadows against dark wooden walls.   And then—him.   A man, clad in all black, standing at the foot of the bed. A mask hid his face, smooth and featureless, but his presence was commanding.   Powerful.   He trailed a gloved hand down her leg, slow, possessive.   “I’ve been watching you, Olivia,” he murmured. “Waiting for the right moment.”   A shiver coursed through her.   She should be terrified. She was terrified. But beneath the fear, something darker stirred. Something she didn’t want to name.   He knew.   His fingers traced the delicate lace of her nightgown, teasing along the hem.   “I wonder,” he mused, voice velvety, “how long you’ll resist before you give in.”   She swallowed hard. “I—I won’t.”   He chuckled, low and knowing. “No?”   His hand moved higher.   Her breath hitched.   Her body betrayed her.   Heat pooled in her core, a flush rising to her skin.   He leaned closer, breath fanning over her lips. “Your body says otherwise.”   She turned her face away, but he caught her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze—though she couldn’t see his eyes, she felt his dominance.   “Tell me to stop,” he whispered.   She parted her lips—   But the words never came.   He hummed in approval. “That’s what I thought.”   And then his mouth was on her, claiming her.   Possessive. Insatiable.   A captor. A stranger. A master of her pleasure.   And she let him take her.   Over.   And over.   Until she forgot what it felt like to be free.  

 GenXMs 

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.

 Elorin 

I wish I understood the urge to write to a stranger and make obscure pronouncements. I am moving. I tried it. Even compliments like You have sexy feet or I love your hair. I wonder if they get an effective response rate from others. They certainly don't get anything from me but the delete button. I don't think I can be any more clear. Read the fucking profile. Emails with less than 3 sentences are deleted as soon as they are opened. Yes, even compliments. Even cryptic declarations. Especially cryptic declarations. Occasionally I am tempted to reply to a nice message with a thank you or ask a cryptic declarater (declarator? one who declares cryptically) WTF. But then I remember that EVERY SINGLE TIME I have made an exception, I have regretted it or felt it was a terrific waste of my time and effort or both.   I guess I will never know where random guy is moving or what other random guy tried. Maybe I'm better off not knowing. ~E

 toxiclostheart 

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

 mstrjx 

Let us play the Let's Pretend game.  (I love the Let's Pretend game!)   Let's pretend that the people typing these profiles and journals and adding pictures and stuff are REAL PEOPLE.  Yup, that might be a bigger ask than is possible.  But let's pretend that is the truth.  It certainly must be for some of us, yes?   Let's further pretend that those who can be defined as real people have been on this site or the predecessor for a while.  Some might have met someone and then UNmet that someone and are back.  Some of those are people who come here lurking but never connecting.  Let's even pretend that some people here are downright serious about all of this but are just having problems connecting with someone they feel is truly compatible.   At the end of the day, however, there is something that we cannot pretend about.  Those of us who are, are real people, with real feelings, and real ambition to eventually find what we want so we don't have to be here any more.  Please take some time to consider others.  Show some respect.  Don't make assumptions about who we are or why we are here.  It can be hard enough without the background noise.   None of us are perfect, and we all have one or two or dozens of flaws.  There is no pretending in the world that can make that not true.  We also have preferences.  Those preferences might very well exclude some these same people who are trying so hard to be right for SOMEONE.  I cannot ask anyone to turn their back on their beliefs or their flaws or their preferences, but what I CAN ask is that we show some kindness, some human dignity.  If anything from the past few years should have taught us is that not only are there trolls online, but many of them started being trolls in real life as well.  People have learned how not to be their best selves.   Be kind.  Be friendly.  MAYBE pretend to think outside the box a little bit.  MAYBE be a little more inclusive, or forgiving those flaws in others that seemed intolerable to you yesterday.  Make someone happy.   I don't want to be the last one here.  Do you?

 Iseek247owner 

I had my 15 month post cancer treatment scope.  The one where they stick the scope up your nose then down in to your throat and look around to check if the tissue is still healthy and take pictures to see if anything has changed.  And it's all still good.  Nine months until I am past the most dangerous period for it to come back, but not totally out of the woods until 5 year mark.  Still getting stronger, except for my right shoulder.  Haven't had a dizzy spell in almost a month.  The effects of radiation can last up t about 18 months, so I am at 15 months and am almost starting to not feel like I'm 80 anymore.  Maybe going to the gym a few times a week and losing 20 more pounds has helped as well.  15 pounds to go to hit 160.  I haven't weighed 160 since I was in my 30s.  Can running my 6th marathon be far off?  A man has to have goals.  Maybe if the right woman was chasing me with a whip.....  

 SirBlaze 

Subtle Tease of The Day This one is simple. It requires no toys or even touching. You don't even need privacy. Every hour (or a feasible but consistent interval) complete this sentence: "I get aroused when I think of ... and I get wet when I imagine..." That's it. Take a moment or two to fantasize. You don't have to share your thoughts. They are welcome

 Byrdie 

I recently sent this to a few people who DMed me: "Did you send this to me by mistake? It reads as though you are in the middle of a conversation with someone else."   As it turns out, people are referring to journal posts I have made days, weeks or even months in the past WITHOUT AN INTRODUCTION EXPLAINING WHY THEY ARE WRITING TO ME.    It does not take much to preface a message with, "I saw your most recent journal post here and I think ..." or "I was doing a deep dive into your journal here and I noticed ..."   I do not re-read my journal every time I log on. My DMs are not the comments section of my journal. Indeed, journal entries here are not like forum topics where the the context is already obvious.  So if you write me about something I posted to my journal and I have no idea what you are talking about, now you know why I sent you that type of reply.

 MissDAR 

Live the Life You're Meant to Live You were not placed upon this groundTo stumble aimlessly around.A spark was lit, a flame was cast,A purpose born to hold you fast. The breath you take, the time you spend,Was gifted with a higher end.Not just to drift, to merely be,But shape the world, your legacy. Each talent, dream, and burning fireCalls out to lift your spirit higher.To squander it, to let it fade,Is to betray why you were made. For those who idle, waste their light,Who fear to step or fight the fight,Will watch the world, a fleeting stream,While drowning in a shadowed dream. But those who dare, who strive, who seek,To live their truth, though strong or weak,Will find the path that calls their nameAnd leave behind a glowing flame. So rise, and live the life you’re meant,A fleeting gift, so wisely spent.For failure’s not to fall or trip,But to forsake your sacred script. ~ Miss Dar      

 latinslave2021 

Hey, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, and I want to share something important with you. Finding a master isn’t something that comes easy or quick, and that’s because it’s not just about a label or a title—it’s about a deep connection, trust, and mutual understanding. I want you to know that I’m genuinely ready for this lifestyle. I’m committed to learning, growing, and fully embracing the dynamic it brings. It’s not just about being controlled or guided—it’s about pleasing a master who respaspects and values me, someone who can push me to be my best and help me discover parts of myself I never knew existed. I’m prepared to put in the effort, to listen, and to show my loyalty and dedication in every possible way. This isn’t a phase or a fleeting interest for me—it’s something I want to live, breathe, and make a meaningful part of who I am. So if you’re someone who understands the depth of this lifestyle, knows the responsibility it carries, and is looking for someone ready to fully commit and please, then I’d like to have that conversation with you. It’s hard to find this kind of connection because it requires honesty, respect, and a level of sincerity that not everyone offers. But I’m here, and I’m ready.

 Kaligula 

“Wrote this for someone who was hurting and I thought it could help others”   Your words don’t just echo pain—they scream with the rawness of someone who has survived what most could never endure. I hear you.  Every line you wrote feels like a cry from the heart of someone who hasn’t given up… not really. Not yet. You haven’t gone cold. You’re burning alive inside the armor you forged to protect yourself. And I know how heavy that armor gets when all you want is to be seen, held, claimed—not just physically, but soul-deep. That ache to surrender is sacred… and dangerous when placed in unworthy hands. So I don’t blame you for guarding it like treasure. Because it is treasure. But hear me: You weren’t made to be shattered and discarded. You were crafted to kneel in reverence, not fear. To be taken by a man strong enough to hold all of you—not just your submission, but your chaos, your fire, your questions, and even your retreat. So if you’re screaming inside, I want you to know—I don’t scare easy. I don’t run when things get hard. I don’t get quiet when emotions roar. I don’t flinch when the storm rolls in. You say you want someone to fight back when you push them away. I will. Not because I’m desperate—but because I know what it means to truly want someone who thinks she’s too much. You’re not too much. You’re just waiting for the right strength to meet your softness. The right discipline to guide your surrender. You don’t need to be perfect or ready. You just need to be willing—willing to not run the next time that flicker of hope shows itself again.

 brattysub2025 

Well the fuckery is working like it should. I am beyond exhausted now. My physical body is shutting down hard. Rheumatoid arthritis is the new possible diagnosis. The other options are MRSA (which I have ) and /or osteomyelitis. So my options are crappy so time to rest and heal. I really appreciate all the help from everyone out there I wish people would read my journals before they message me.   time to rest and heal .   

 VTFemaleEunuch 

I'm noticing I need to spell this out since my profile likes isn't obvious enough. I have very little interest in sex. In fact, I connect better with people who enjoy keeping someone in long-term chastity or orgasm denial than someone who wants their partner(s) to have orgasms.  I am on the Ace Spectrum - I may experience sexual attraction, and I may even get turned on by certain conversations or ideas. but this is more of an exception rather than a regular occurring event. I most likely don't want to have sex with you or be made to orgasm by you. I don't need to be fixed or trained either.  I'm quite okay with my inability to get turned on and as a good friend explains asexuality - I am more likely going to get more excited over a bowl of freshly popped popcorn than the idea of having sex.  However, if you are someone who truly, and I mean TRULY, is interested in orgasm denial and chastity please feel free to reach out to me.  Eventually, with enough teasing, and edging, with someone who knows how I get turned on, I turn into a puddle of pathetic beggingness for an orgasm and THAT is hot to me. 

 M2s39 

What am I intreseted in?  What am I looking for?  I am open to many situations.  Mostly I would like an online sub to be my babygirl.  Someone who wants to live her normal life and yet needs someone to give her stability and direction.  I would guess a Daddy figure is the most accurate description. All of that being said I understand we all have different views of the perfect relationship. While I search for my "perfect" match, I am willing to learn about what you want, and who knows, it may become what I want. Let's talk and see if we can meet on some common ground.

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