Her hands held the pen, the black ink swirling across the page as she signed the contract. The last time she would ever see her real name, the last time her date of birth would even matter. She paused, holding her breath in her shuttering lungs… and as the seconds ticked by like years, her lung’s released and the chime rang. The electronic paper instantly sealed the contact and the encryption code saved to the nanochip.A metal arm came from the wall, and in a quick second her eyes blinked, and the chip engaged.She was still her, her personality, her smile, her spirit, but her body now belonged to the New American Order. She fought as long as she could, the price of housing and food had risen so high she was living so poorly. They had removed all unchipped teachers long ago, uncipped could not work jobs that paid in NAObitcoin. She could only get paid in paper money which only unchipped could spend. The black market was dangerous and she knew the consequences.The government now allowed people to elect to be chipped as household wifes. They would live a normal life, raising children, and making their families a unit, and thus rebuilding the community which once made this nation strong.She was a beautiful women, her long auburn hair landed in near perfect curls, her beautiful eyes could sink the universe. She held a PHD and would make an excellent home school teacher for a man who had a large family.She sat in the chair, gripping the skirt if the dress, and staring at the wall. A screen came on and the host started talking.“Gentlemen of the NAO tonight we have a wonderful selection of wives. They have all signed in willingly so there are no confinement rules for these women. Lets get started.”The door to her room opened and she stepped in to the hall. She took the step and closed her eyes, her sister got a nice man, they are so happy. She was going to have the same, she knew it.“First we have this beautiful older model, she will bare no children, but she is sweet and caring. She has a good voice, pleasant demeanor, tested level 9/10 in cooking and house keeping, she scored 10/10 in intellect. As you know gentlemen she will be tested for sexual abilities, her current rating in the outside was 4.6 so definitely above average but those chipless have no idea.”The door opened at the end of the hall, she walked quickly to the door, she had watched this millions if times on the tele. It had become required viewing but the poor only got to see the limited view, they put so many propaganda commercials in the show it was hard to really understand what was happening.The men in the room were all high class government officials, they were all men who had created the order, and their first wives were probably in work camps, or dead from the war. The rebels attacked their homes and wives, so many ran to other countries at the end of the war. Now other countries were turned to watch as NAO rebuilt and became the world leader of technology and education.The days of the starving poor was over, well as long as you chipped up. If you were a normie your life didnt change except you had no rent, no bills, but you worked for the government and ate what the government gave you. It wasnt a horrible life, you married in your class, and lived happy. The problem came with people like her. She was smart enough to live with out the system, pretty enough to be a wife, refined and well skilled, and her date rating put her on their radar.She only signed up to find a match, she was sick of her lonely home. They just started letting nochips on the site and she knew better!When her rating hit its highest the rent in her area went up, the power for vehicles tripled, food prices doubled. She got a speeding ticket and that was it… she couldn’t pay her rent… and there Lacy was, to offer her a spot in the highest ranked tv show in the History of the planet. It was required watching in the NAO and many international countries allowed their citizens to watch and participate, part of the new Jenniva treaty.So here she was, the room was black, the ceiling back, the bed and everything painted in the darkest black. She stepped to the door and the door behind her shut.“Remove your dress and precede to the bed.” The audience wouldnt see anything, its black, there is no light, but there are speakers and they can hear everything. She pulled her dress off and sat it next to the bed. She was stark naked, her large breasts we’re hanging from her, her body shivered as her hair tickled her back. She crouched down and lay down on the bed.“Place your right hand on the board. Place your left hand on the left board.” Her arms moved and then click the magnet locked, they had implanted her with magnets and chips throughout her body. The lights clicked off. For a second she could hear movement and then the headphones clapped down on her head. Hands ran down her body and the audience cheered as the meter stared to rise. His hands found her face and he pulled her in to a kiss, his tongue darting about and dancing with hers. His other hand found her pussy, and he clamped his hand down. The meter went to 1.0, and then his finger slipped inside, her body wetting for him, his head tilted, and his eyes flickered in to the darkness. “Ohhh a fun one.” He whispered in her ear. His fingers began working her clit and her body responded, he rubbed and twisted and pulled as she moaned loudly. Her chip holding her back from orgasm but leaving her right in the edge. He paused, and his mouth found her breasts which made her moan loudly again as the meter kept rising 3.0,4.0,7.0. The crowd started to whisper as no one had ever gotten higher than 8 and she was just starting. He pressed his cock against her, his large head pushing hard, as her rating went higher, and then he pushed in, hard. His huge cock filling her and pushing hard against the top of her as she moaned loudly, the harder he pushed the rougher he got the more she moaned and flooded him. Her hips moved with his, drawing him deeper, harder as she ground herself in to him. He reached up and put his hand on her neck, the default for allowing an orgasm during testing and she came. Her vagina pressed in on him pulsating hard as he continued to pound her, she came hard over and over moaning loudly. He stopped for a second and stepped back. “Turn over.” Her wrists released, and she flipped over, she had not had sex like this in years, she forgot it was anything other than a glorious night of love. He gripped her hips and pressed his cock in to her ass, as she arched her back and moaned out loudly. He started to work her ass slowly and then harder and harder pounding her hard. She shook as his hips hit her ass with a force she couldn’t believe. It almost took her breath how hard and good it felt. He reached up and grabbed her hair and held it tight slamming in to her harder, his other hand found her clit. He wouldn’t let her cum, he had decided now she didn't get anymore, they were all his. He pressed harder and harder, her body sweating and her breathing rough he continued, as he came he slapped her ass hard. The number blinked on the wall 8.7 highest first test score. The room blacked.. the commercial started, and men whispered among themselves.“I think i might have enough to purchasing that one.” A tall dark gentleman spoke. The room fell silent, as a bell rang which meant a second test was requested. The testing fee was not cheep, but someone needed to know her limit.Two men with night vision glasses came in and helped her straddle a round saw horse, her leg magnet locking in place, her wrists, she could no longer move.“Its time for the maximum orgasm test!” The host spoke in an over excited tone, his own body reacting to the sights. The lights turned off and above her head a digital board read 4.“According to the chip she has already orgasmed 4 times, remember folks the highest score ever is 70, in 2hours and 10 min. Once we start this test we will continue the auction.She was cold, but as soon as she felt it the sensation went away, the chip overriding the warning. A buzz starts in the background and her body starts to prepare, the sound of a milker clicking away behind her also made her body react. The buzz and tick tick take her in to a trance, and her body relaxes. He inserts a large 1 inch dildo inside if her, he clips the vibratior clamp on her clit as she lets out a loud yelp.“Mute her please.” The host says quietly. The man hits a button and her moans quiet and she starts to orgasm.“Oh no not yet kitten we aren’t even there yet.” His deep voice echoed in her ear, as thr command found its protocol, her body slowed the orgasm, and then liquid squirts on her ass as he presses in and works a large plug, its vibrations start to sink with the dildo. Her entire body clamped down, which only made the sensation stronger as she orgasmed hard. "oh yeah I should… release." as the word echoed in her empty mind the orgasms rushed in..10,11,12,13… her biometric system counting orgasm after orgasm.He smiled in to the dark as the goat milker cups attached to each breast and turned on low, then higher and higher, as it sucked her 38h breasts deep in to the glass, 22,23,26.He stood there watching with his night vision , his prize will be a percentage of her price, 30,31,32. He grabbed a flogger and whipped her ass hard, a flood of orgasms came in 41,43,44. He spanked her again, 50."Gentlemen our special purchase has hit 50! can you believe that? alright next is 35, rating 4.5, cooking 6 but comes with optional upgrade option, overall sex rating 8 with a maximum daily use 3 times… the bidding starts at her debt to the NAO of 100 Naobitcoins. Let the game begin. " the host pointed to the screen where bids were flying in from all over the world."The timer has started… bids are up to 2,000… 2,300… 3,2,1. 2,600 NAOBC… And your name is Cynthia. congratulations and may you live in the peace of your submission. " the audience said along with the host."now were are we at with our live test… 67 in 30 min, 68,69,70! she beat the record! She sucked breath in to her lungs as her body just kept going, she was dripping with sweat, her body begging for help, her moans muted her voice box turned off as she cameover and over. The machines clicked off her body shivered, and the chip took over, her hands and legs released as she stood, her brain not fully functioning. She walked to the bed her legs shaking and pulled her dress on. A door opened to a bathroom, an entire crew of beauty and glamor experts stood there. They had one commercial break to make her look fresh. She was pushed in to a shower the water spraying up and down on her in all directions. The water turned to warm air as she stepped from the shower dry and clean, the stockings slid on and clipped in to a pink and black garter. the corset top clipped in to place and then tied tight. her dress was slid over her head, and tightened down. Her hair was twisted and twirled and her makeup went on fast, a blinking light told the crew it was time.“Gentlemen it is time. How much would you pay? The time starts now…..” the     

Quite often, I see profiles that list Weight as " 80 lbs" or "60 lbs" when they clearly mean kilograms. So either 1) They are correctly entering 60 kg but it's displaying as "60 lbs" anyway, a software error 2) Or really that huge a number of people keep making the same mistake and don't bother to select Kg when they mean it. Or a mixture of these two. Either way, sad, and ideally something that would be fixed (software) and/or improved (care in selecting) However, while I won't remember how this website was 8 yeras ago, I'm not sure I recall ever, in recent memory any "kg" weight from anyone, even in the UK. So the "kg" isn't displaying when it should, it seems. So someone picks "60 kg" and the rest of us see "60 lbs" or at least we do if we use lbs ourselves. That's not how things should work... But how lovely they fixed the Journals so we can share thoughts like the above! ;-)  

Dallas — April 23–25 I’ll be in the city briefly, and I don’t waste time on unfocused or unprepared men. I’m open to select company while I’m there—but understand this is not casual, and it’s not for those who need to be convinced of their place. I will not be alone. My wife will be present—she is intelligent, composed, and fully aware of my dynamic. You will conduct yourself with the same level of respect, awareness, and restraint you would expect in the presence of accomplished women. This is not a space for nervous energy, over-talking, or performative behavior. I expect presence, discretion, and a clear understanding of how to approach properly. You should come prepared—mentally, logistically, and otherwise. I don’t guide from the ground up in a limited window. If you understand structure, composure, and how to present yourself with intention, you may be worth my time. Dallas is a short stay. Make your approach count. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

This scenario is what I prefer my Sex life to look like.  If you want more, then please look elsewhere and stop messaging me.  I'm looking for the man who wants this.  An intense stress relief on Friday night with a late dinner out and jacking off or titty fucking me daily or close to daily during the week.  I adore waking Up to a rough titty fuck and being displayed with his cum drying on me while he showers. A quick inspection and some lovely kisses but no relief for my sweet pussy that is being for attentio.  Once the cum is dry, I'm off to shower a d get my day started. I'm even up for more use as your personal cum rag in the evening if we aren't busy with vanilla life. Other than being incredibly turned on by my preferred kink, it has some advantages.  There Is no unwanted pregnancy and the risk of catching an STD is incredibly low.  By the time a rare and special event happens and we have penetrating sex I should be assured that the risk of an std is zero.    

Yes I'm here almost entirely for reading journals, the rare thoughtful empathetic intellectual exchange, and the rare opportunity to give support and make helpful suggestions to those relatively new, or looking deeper, who seek it and are appreciative of my time invested. Beyond *very* rare exceptions (none in a long time that appealed to me) I'm not here "looking" for relationship or sex or cybersex at all, and not in a long time any appealing online erotic correspondence. I'd update profile to say this more directly, but as others have said, the wait can be really very long before the profile is again approved.  So for above reasons I find myself returning to the website, and to look at this usually hidden part of the human mind and spirit, and and part present human society. For most of what I see, so much unnecessary hate and aggression but I don't need to write much about it here to condemn it..but then the gems, which don't have to be polished gems, just a person opening up, it could be non-BDSM, just writing on profile or journal about dealing with health, or dealing with the loss of life of a spouse..and you get glimpse of a human mind that's not through the usual filters. And on BDSM, or sexually in general,  similarly, being able to read glimpses of candor and the inner psychological world, an uncommon chance to read someone opening up..

The artist Nas once said that life is a bitch and then you die. I agree wholeheartedly. That is why I try to live life to the fullest everyday. Several things occured over the past two years that have significantly changed my life. Im not writing this post to complain about those things but to reflect on how those things have influenced my choice to fulfill a long time fantasy that up until this point in my life seemed unrealistic.  Tomorrow, I have a realtor coming to my home to list it for sale. I will be selling my home and moving in with my submissive so that we can build our 1950s household. She lives in Philadelphia so this will not only be an opportunity to live out my fantasy but it will also be a fresh start in a new city. The circumstances that created this possibility were not desireable but I am happy that they pushed me towards fulfilling one of my long time fantasies.  Life is a bitch and then you die.....so you may as well make the best of it while you can.    

I will chat with anyone, from anywhere.  Relationship oriented, or just general chat about..  anything.I am open to, and possibly able to relocate fairly soonish, possibly anywhere I so choose.I am able to visit anyone, anywhere.However note, that if our messages here get serious to the point of thinking about or talking visit/relocation, I would expect to video chat, at least a couple times before doing so.  At a minimum.   This is only a requirement before I spend hundreds or thousands to visit you.  If there is no such plan, I'm happy to keep things message only forever.I do not need, expect, desire, or want anything kink or sexual.  Just some "face to face" conversations.   If we can't do that via online, why would I expect it would be so different in person? And video chat requirement doesn't apply to someone I can reach by car within a day or so.  But as soon as I need to take a flight somewhere, that is where things change.That said, I do believe online, long distance relationships can work if both sides wish it to. Abd I am able to relocate.The relationship matters, not the location I live in.

On The Possibility of a Dream When I was 20something, I discovered Female Domination like a supernova in the night sky. It bathed my thoughts in a different light, it revealed hidden meanings in the way I felt, and it made it seem like anything was possible. It was strongly sexual - physical. Almost like a drug that charged me and made everything more vivid, more alive. In the center of this supernova was an archetypal vision - Woman, the essence of all I desired, the goal of all my efforts. The embodyment of all good and pleasure. Impressive as this was, I think it was incomplete. Now it's been 30 years, and with the help of several intelligent and perceptive Dominas, i can see more clearly. i realize that this raw power, the blind almost biological impulse, is made human, civilized, and meaningful by service - from bending to and serving a real woman. Not an archetype. A human being with her dreams, fears, hopes, and yes weaknesses. Does this mean I think my initial vision was wrong? No - I think that almost primeval response is the natural fuel for a rock-solid relationship. It is the capacity of seeing my partner as the channel, the embodyment of that feminine divine energy, that can charge our whole relationship and add layers of meaning "vanilla" relationships lack. Is this a dream? Maybe. But I know my soul is religious and its dream religion is the woman i would share my life with.

my amusement grows with each passing day at what some "think" my submission should look like.   I'm outspoken, blunt, intelligent,  don't kneel to everyone,  etc.  Ohhh no,  that means I must not be submissive, etc. Heh,  no. It means,  I'm Not the type of submissive You can handle.  I'm not looking for you though.  I'm looking for HIM. The One who knows the value I bring,  because when I kneel,  it's because a Leader stands before me. That..is when I become fully submissive. Until then.. deal with the woman only,  the person i am,  because that is who i am,  to everyone else. Only one gets my full submission. 

i just miss him so much and all I want to do is make things right between us again. I know there's alwasy a reason behind everything he does, but I have thought of all that I think it could be this time. I've admitted my wrongs, sat with his words and mulled them over extensively, and examined my behavior over the last few weeks. I've given him space the last week aside from updating him on the necessary and important things he absolutely should know, and still, not a word in response. I'm at a loss as to how to resolve this without communication and for that, he has to be willing to respond, to talk. Many would say this is not right for him to do, and I only half agree. The fuck up was mine. Entirely. I just have no idea how to prove to him that I'm sorry and intend to work on improvements and growth. It also saddens me that he has not so much as seemed at all troubled by our lack of contact. Though, I don't know this for certain, but how do you go so long with no contact with your slave if you love them as much as you say you do, and want them just as much? I'm doubting a lot lately, and losing more and more hope as the days pass.  I won't give up, though. I am his, forever. Whether he considers me his anymore or not. I just wish he would tell me, either way. Even if he still needs more time, I just want to know I am still his if I am. And I want to know if I'm not, if I'm not.  I feel like I'm in limbo, a state of purgatory. Banished from even learning my fate. It's painful. It's agonizing. It feels cruel and confusing. And it doesn't feel particularly safe, though with him, as his, I feel perfectly safe. But in this space of frozen in time, hanging limp from fated thread, I am scared. Terrified that it may be over. I've broken so many times since we last spoke. And I'm still breaking. Every fracture piercing the deepest depths of me. The knowledge that I caused this for myself? Makes his last words to me sting all the more: Enjoy the misery you bring on yourself. 

Wow   For the first time in a while, I received an email that made me smile. This is what I'm talking bout! The grammar and punctuation were off, but that's ok. The words were honest, sincere, and authentic. Yes, it was poorly crafted, but it was the best thing I read all day!    PEGSTRESS IS PLEASED!

Remote Controlled - Part 1This is a fiction story based on a real event The year was almost over once again and Sally had no one to gift her bound and helpless form to. Another year had passed and every dominant man she had met was a no-hoper. Scrolling on her phone she looked mournfully at the parade of bound subs that filled social media. Tapping over to her dating profile she sighed. It took a lot of patience to filter through the inbox. Determined to keep trying she browsed the various messages she had received. It was the usual stuff - men with empty profiles saying 'hey'. Disappointed she pushed on through message after message until she saw one with a photo attached. Steeling her courage, Sally tapped the message desperately hoping it wasn't yet another unsolicited dick pic.To her surprise it wasn't. It was a picture of an app that she recognised. She used the app herself for one of her toys. As she took in the picture she realised that her username was displayed. 'Random Control' was a feature of her app controlled toys. A butt plug and vibrator she owned could be worn and then controlled by a random user of the app. Sure enough, this picture was coming from someone who she had chatted with as he controlled her toys! For a moment panic made her blood run cold. Was it creepy that he'd tracked her down on a dating site? What other profiles of hers did he know about? Semi-paralysed by this surprise it took her some time before she read the message to which the picture was attached. 'Control doesn't have to be random. All you have to do is ask.' Sally froze. This was out of the ordinary. How is someone meant to answer this? She gulped, but found herself unable to tap away from the message. She had to know more. Quickly she tapped through and read this man's profile. Thepicture wasn't amazing, but there was a very well written description of what this man was looking for. With every line Sally found herself drawn in further and faster. On the screen at least this man seemed like everything she was looking for. At least, right up until he used a single word - pantyhose. Sally's growing smile dropped. He was likely American. No Brit would use that word. Sure enough, on checking there it was - Bridgeport, Connecticut. Still, he deserved a reply. It was the most interesting message she'd received in weeks. 'I remember our chat. It was mindblowing. I'm sorry to say I'm not looking for an online relationship. - Sally' Dispondant, Sally closed the site and settled down for a lonely night. Streaming the latest reality show nonsense, her brain numbed and the familiar rut closed in. Moments later her phone buzzed. 'What is it about online that worries you? - Jonathan' 'Consequences, there can't be any when its all online. I can say I've done something but you have no way of knowing if thats the truth. Its just not as fun for me. - S' 'I understand. Are you up for another fun chat then?' Sally smiled. An online D/s relationship didn't get her motor running, but the thought of someone else teasing her with her toys really did. She quickly messaged back before hurrying to her toy chest. A touch of lube later and her plug and vibe were in. A few quick taps and she had the app open and connected to the man on the other end. His voice wasn't terribly deep. In fact he spoke very softly and gently. Almost careful with every word he chose to use. 'I really did love the message Jon.' 'It's Jonathan, not Jon.' He hadn't raised his voice at all to say this, instead he chose to set her toys to vibrate at their maximum settings. Sally breathed deeply as the toys caused her to let out a low moan. 'S..sorry Jonathan.' 'That's okay. Now you know.' The vibrations stopped as he lowered the control on his app. Then a second later, there was a barely perceptable rumble from her plug combined with a slow rhythmic buzz from her vibe. Sally gulped, he was good. 'You know Sally, there are other toys like this. Other ways a long distance dynamic can work.' But Sally bared heard, he was clearly skilled at controlling these types of vibrating toys. He was varying not just the intensity but the frequency and the patterns of her toys. 'Or maybe, even this type of play isn't something you enjoy as much as it sounds like?' The vibration stopped from both of Sally's toys. Snapping back to reality her hips were wriggling around, desperate for the good feelings from the toys. 'Please, don't stop now!' 'Well then Sally, answer me. Did you know that there are a lot of different long distance toys like this?' 'I'm sure there are. I don't think it would help though. Even in person, I can be bratty. I find ways to make it seem like I've done what was asked of me.' The vibrations began again, but this time at a very low level. Sally's hips writhed against the air, desperate to make the most of the sensations from the toys. She gripped her breats, teasing her nipples. 'What if I had a plan? A way of addressing some of your weaknesses? Would you be willing to at least hear me out?' 'I...I suppose...I could keep an...oh...oh.' Sally struggled for words as he played with her toy's controls masterfully. 'An open mind?' 'Oh god! Ye...ye...yes, and open mind.' 'I'm glad to hear it. Now, when you are close, do be a good little slut and ask me for permission to cum.' Sally's entire body began to quake as both the plug and the vibe filled her with sensations that felt amazing. Closing her eyes, she flipped to her front and ground her hips into her bed, trying to get more from the sensations of the vibe filling her. A few moments later, she was begging the male voice she knew as Jonathan for the permission to cum. He managed to play the controls so well that he kept her right on the edge of an orgasm for another two minutes. To Sally it felt like twenty, but before too long he said in a gentle voice: 'Cum for me Sally.'

I thought stepping away for a bit would give some of you time to think about what you actually want. Not the fantasy. Not the oversexualized idea you’ve built in your head. But what you truly desire—and whether you’re capable of participating in it in a real, grounded way. Instead, I come back to the same pattern. Too many messages. Too little awareness. So let me make this very clear. My hard no’s: 1. Entitled, attention-seeking behavior.If you think you deserve my time simply because you showed up..you don’t.If your version of “submission” is performative, reactive, or rooted in insecurity, I will dismiss you just as quickly as you arrived. 2. Dominants (beyond friendship).I already have aligned energy in my life. I am not looking to add to that.If you don’t fit within the world I’ve built, you won’t be invited into it. 3. Unrealistic arrangements.Let’s be adults.I’m an established woman with multiple businesses and a full life. I’m not looking for a roommate, a project, or someone trying to fast-track access to my space.Real connection is built over time—with intention, not convenience. 4. Fantasy vs. Reality.What I am is not a costume. I am a naturally dominant woman. I’ve led, directed, and held authority long before this had a label attached to it. This is not something I turn on and off, and it’s not something I perform for entertainment. So approach me with that understanding or don’t approach me at all. I’m not hidden. I’m not confused. And I’m certainly not here to play. I’m a real woman with a real life. If you want to exist anywhere near it, you’ll need to come correct. Submissives only.  Now get it the fuck together. — Mistress Nikki Vixen

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

The Weight of Three Minutes - An Erotic Short Story  The marble is cold under your knees. I designed the room precisely for this quality of cold, for the way it travels upward through a kneeling body and reminds it, without a word from me, of exactly where it is. The morning light moves across your bowed shoulders and finds the faint lines on your skin, my lines, exactly where I left them.   You hold the cup steady. I will give you that.   My fingers brush yours as I take it. A conductivity test, reading the current of you through brief contact. You do not tremble. Good. I bring the rim to my lips.   The first sip tells me everything. The base notes are correct, the Darjeeling first flush I require. But beneath it, the steep is wrong. Three minutes would have given me what I require. You gave me four. The tannins have opened in a way they should not have been permitted to, and the result is an astringency that sits at the back of the palate like a small, deliberate insult.   You know. You felt it before I tasted it, felt the error in the air the way a barometer feels weather. Your world has narrowed to the space between my slippered feet. Good. That is where it belongs.   I say your name. Just that.   "Yes, Goddess." The word hangs in the quiet room like an offering I have not yet decided to accept.   "The specifications are precise and they are not suggestions. Water temperature ninety degrees. Steep time three minutes. Measured. Not estimated. Not felt."   "Yes, Goddess."   "Explain the deviation."   The muscle in your jaw tightens. I catalog it. "The leaves were newer stock. I thought a longer steep would develop the flavor more fully. Bring out the muscatel notes you prefer."   "You thought."   I begin to circle you. Slowly. I am never in any hurry. I place my gaze on the back of your neck with the deliberate weight of something being pressed into soft material.   "You introduced variables. You assumed. Perfection does not accommodate feeling. The muscatel note I prefer is arrived at in precisely three minutes. Not your interpretation. Not your instinct. Three minutes, measured, as specified."   "A flaw in the cup is a flaw in the man. Do you doubt my parameters?"   "No, Goddess. Never."   But your fingers curl inward where they rest on your thighs. I see it. I note it. Nothing is too small to matter.   "Stand."   You rise in one fluid motion, taller than me, broader. And yet you make yourself smaller in my presence, as you have learned to do. It is one of the things I have built in you that I find most satisfying.   "Look at me."   Your eyes meet mine. The familiar desperate focus is there, the terror of demotion. But beneath it, a flicker. Not defiance. Something more interesting. A spark of independent thought, alive and un-extinguished.   My fingers, cool and precise, trace the line of your jaw. The shudder that moves through you is full-bodied and involuntary. Your breath catches.   "The grade for today's service is pending. We will see if the rest of your performance can correct the imbalance."   I turn toward the lounge. "Follow."   Two steps behind, as trained. The cage sits in its corner, black steel and clean lines, always the outer boundary of the visible world.   "Kneel here. You will remain until I have need of you. You will not speak. You will not move. You will contemplate the difference between three minutes and four."   You sink into position. Back straight, hands on thighs, head at the precise angle I have trained into you. You are, when you are like this, a beautiful object. I have made you that.   Not a muscle moves. Your breathing barely disturbs the air. Every resource of you pointed at the single task of being still enough to please me.   And yet. You chose to deviate. You chose to trust your own palate over my doctrine.   Something uncoils in my attention. Not anger. Sharper. Interest, which in my world is rarer and more dangerous than fury.   I say your name again, soft as a petal released from a great height.   Your eyes lift instantly.   "Come here."   You cross the distance on your knees and stop before me, your face level with my lap. You wait with your entire body.   "The grade is failing. A failing slave is placed in the cage. Denied touch. Denied sight."   Your throat moves. "Yes, Goddess."   "Do you wish to be caged?"   "I wish only what you wish, Goddess."   "That is not an answer. It is a recitation. The one who extended the steep had a wish. What was it?"   "I wished for it to be perfect for you. Not just correct. Perfect. The new harvest felt like an opportunity and I wanted to find something in it that you had not yet tasted."   There it is. Your ambition, layered over my specifications, believing itself generous.   I slide my fingers into your hair and close them. The breath that leaves you is unsteady. Your eyes close. "Your wish introduced error," I say, close to your ear. "Your personal pursuit of my pleasure contaminated the delivery of it. That is the failure."   I pull your head back. Your eyes open, wide, stripped of calculation. Simply present. Exposed. Looking up at the only person in your world who matters.   "And yet," my thumb finds the pulse hammering in your throat, "it was a beautiful ambition."   I release you.   "The grade remains failing. But the correction will be hands-on."   "Remove your shirt."

I've been asked a lot about being poly and I thought I'd make a note here about it. I am polyamorous. I believe in multiple loves, multiple relationships, communication, trust and respect for everyone involved. I currently have my own submissive whom I've been with for 7 years and a vanilla boyfriend I've been with for two. They both live with me. They date seperately and neither of them expects to be included in my exploits (IE we DON'T DO threesomes)  We practice a "kitchen table" type polyamory where we have this cozy, happy little household where everyone gets along with everyone else. We often invite our partners and dates over for little wrestling parties (we're all huge WWE and AEW fans) and Cards Against Humanity.  I love being poly. I have so much to give.  If you have any questions and would like me answer them here in my journal please feel free to write me.  your girl joy

Yesterday, Thursday: 15/08/2024 Dear Diary,  MY day begins at 10 AM, just as I like it—on MY own terms. I wake up knowing that the world is MINE to shape, and I take MY time easing into the morning. MY routine is deliberate: a workout that awakens MY body, followed by a long, hot shower where I let the steam clear MY mind. As I prepare for the day, I’m already planning MY moves, each one purposeful. Dressing for the day is a ritual, even when I’M working from home. Today, I chose something comfortable yet powerful—an outfit that reminds ME of the strength I carry. Before I head to MY home office, I check MY phone, smiling as I see the messages from MY submissives. They know what pleases ME, and today, I’VE received a few thoughtful gifts—tokens of their appreciation and respect. It’s a satisfying reminder of the influence I hold, and I allow MYSELF a moment to savour it. MY home office is where the magic happens. As a web designer, I create, innovate, and build. The morning is spent in focused work—crafting designs, and connecting with clients. Even though I’M not in a traditional office, MY presence is undeniable. Every email, every project, every call reflaspects MY vision and MY control. I love knowing that MY work drives success and shapes the online world. I’M in charge, and it feels exhilarating. In the afternoon, I switch gears to focus on growth and giving back. I mentor young black female entrepreneurs, helping them navigate challenges and harness their strengths. Empowering others is part of MY power, and I take pride in guiding them. Their progress fuels ME, just as much as MY own success. As evening falls, I pour MYSELF a glass of Hennessy and dive into the course I’M developing. This project has been months in the making, and tonight, the ideas are flowing effortlessly. The warmth of the drink, the satisfaction of creating something meaningful—it’s a perfect combination. This course will be a game-changer, and I’M excited to see it come to life. The night deepens, but I’M energised. I’M building something incredible, and I know it. When I finally wrap up, I feel a deep sense of accomplishment. I’M not just a woman with a career—I’M a force, shaping MY world with precision and pride. As I lay in bed, I reflect on the day. I’M proud of who I AM—strong, confident, and in control. The gifts from MY submissives, the success of MY work, the course I’M creating—it all reminds ME that I navigate this world with grace, power, and a touch of indulgence. Tomorrow is another day to conquer, and I’M ready. This is MY world, and I own it.   BLACK GODDESS xx

"50 Shades Of Wanabees" **Will finish writing this and add the conclusion sometime in the near future. Unfortunately, work and life get in the way of passion at times not affording us the opportunity to delve into it full time. That and writing this on a cell phone is a daunting task. Read enjoy, educate, comment. It's all good. I've been involved in this lifestyle for going on 40yrs. It is a very special kind of relationship and bond that takes lots of commitment, EFFECTIVE communication, understanding and most of all....TRUST. This type of life is not for everyone especially those "vanilla relationshippers" who don't understand it or know anything about it other than the stereotype information they heard or read. It is a multi-layer, multi-dimensional universe of its own that is compromised of many of its own ecosystems. It's as vast as the many kinks and fetishes that people can imagine and transform into being on the physical plane. Although we try to categorize the many desires so we can label them and sort them in order to find fellow kinksters. It is a task less job of who done it. No different than labeling colors. To the right we have orange. To the left we have red. But what happens when we have a color that falls in between? It doesn't necessarily look orange or red on of its own. Do we call "rednge" and make it its own category so it sits their all alone? Obviously not! But yet another hybrid is born expanding our array of colors once again. Adding to the illustrious rainbow of a way of life for many. It is no different than Mother nature's evolution of our planet and its inhabitants. Constantly in motion. Growing, changing, EVOLVING. How wonderful. HOWEVER, something almost always comes along to try and hamper the growth. It resonates through the community touching and infecting all that live in it. It betrays us all and infaspects the very things that make it so unique. Trust quickly dissipates as the intrusion spreads like wildfire burning all that fall within its path. Leaving behind scorched emotions, lack of trust or belief. Like that fiery fire is what I call, "50 Shades Of Wannabees". It's compromised of those who watched or read this crossover book or movie of a kinkier version of "Pretty Woman". A rich man who takes over a lower class woman's mind and bends her into his submissive. Suddenly like the herd of Buffalo, that once roamed this nation, a stampede of kinksters charge into our community. There is no understanding that there is SO much more than physical ownership of a sub or slave. It is a psychological game of Stratego that has been played by the partners gaining command of the others headspace. That headspace contains all the emotions, physical desires, dreams, fantasies, psychological manifestations of childhood yearnings, etc. All rolled up into one area waiting to be examined and absorbed by someone who can understand them and nurture them to fruition. A Bach of the composer world who takes them and turns them into beautiful music that all can hear. The manifestation of the hidden minds collective emotional desires and needs now controlling the physical form like the captive they once were. With this weapon in hand the dominant hunter has captured his prey. He cages and controls it by holding its heart tightly against his chest in his protective arms so no harm will come to it. The chase was long. The chase took many paths that one had to avoid straying from and getting lost. So when finally navigating it and finding that pot of gold at the end it is treasured as the greatest possession owned. It's capture was earned and not stolen. I can't help but look at these wannabees as nothing more than and invasive army made up of decisions or narcissistic grandure. Their need to feel powerful and fulfill their cardinal desires of physical pleasure and loneliness taken by force. No understanding of how the lifestyle works because they have no desire to learn it. Whips spinning in the air, shouts of demands and orders barking, physically overpowering of their prey is all they understand. I am a MASTER they proclaim to all as they dangle bait in hopes of luring a potential pacifistic creature. No you are NOT A MASTER, the knowledgeable citizens say. YOU ARE JUST A BULLY! A bully fueled by your narcissistic desires of ownership over another that you expect to force to serve you for your pleasure and your pleasure alone. You and your wants are all that matters and the emotions of the server are forced into exile.

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

It appears part of our profile is missing our instructions for applying to be our slave so here is the first step again   TO BE CONSIDERED THE FIRST STEP IS TO GIVE A LITTLE INFORMATION ABOUT YOURSELF SO ANSWER THE FOLLOWING   WHAT PREVIOUS EXPERIENCE DO YOU HAVE IN THE LIFESTYLE? WHAT SKILLS DO YOU HAVE TO BRING TO THE HOUSEHOLD? ARE YOU EMPLOYED? IF NOT YOU WILL GET A JOB. DO YOU HAVE ANY HEALTH ISSUES?  WHAT ARE YOUR VANILLA INTERESTS? WHAT ARE YOUR KINKS? DO YOU HAVE AN ISSUE WITH SERVING IN A POLY HOUSE WITH MULTIPLE SLAVES BOTH FEMALE AND MALE?  DO YOU HAVE ANY LEGAL ISSUES TO SORT OUT?  ANSWER THESE QUESTIONS AND ONCE YOU DO WE WILL GO FROM THERE ANSWERING NONE TO Q1 OR YES TO Q4 DOES NOT HINDER YOUR ABILITY TO BE OUR SLAVE IT IS JUST THINGS WE NEED TO KNOW FOR YOUR SAFETY AND WELLBEING 

Ok ok ok. I don't want to be online for any more time than is necessary.  I've decided there will be no nursing home and so I ramp up My efforts to find the right mix for a live in.  Let's get the communication right.  I need to speak to you at a time which is convenient for Me.  I will make some consessions, but if YOU CANNOT BE ACCOMODATING TO MY SCHEDULE than we are not going to go far and you are wasting My time for engaging someone who wants to make the time to get things moving!  I need.  Please do us both a favor and only contact Me if you are READY WILLING AND ABLE.   My suggestion out of the gate is we take this relationship association on for a set period of time.  Give matters a chance to work out and work up. I am not a menu providing dominant woman nor am I able to allow someone to control any aspect of Me outside of our engagement with one another.  I've come too far to be handing over any reigns to any untried handler and after all, I am responsible, legally, for a life.  So until you demonstrate who you are and I come to trust you, I will be running My own show all on My own.

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. 

What I like about being a Bull Sometimes I am asked what I like about being a Bull with a cuckold couple. That is not an easy question to answer, but I’ll try. I’m a dominant person, and always have been. I like being the one in charge. So I naturally tend to find myself at the top of the food chain in every situation. When I’m with a couple there are several elements that appeal to me, which make the relationship more appealing than the traditional boyfriend & girlfriend. First, a married woman is in it for the sex. Her motivations are not unlike ours (men). She is not looking for a relationship (she has one). She is not looking for drama (she wants none). She will not hound you or stalk you or pester you like many single women. With a married woman it’s all about the sex. When you meet with her (or them) there will be little small talk, socializing or wasting time. Sex is on her mind, and it’s everyone's goal. Once her and your sexual cravings are satisfied she will go back home, with or to her husband. It’s perfect for someone like me who enjoys frequent, explosive sex with someone who is only too willing to provide it. So, my first answer is sex, sex and more sex. But there are other sides to it, too. Believe it or not I like helping other couples spice things up. I know Bulls are often painted as selfish, cock-wielding studs that are interested only in themselves, but that’s not usually the case. I, and others like me, enjoy interacting with couples and helping them reignite their flame in the bedroom. Like I mentioned, I am dominant and I enjoy the domination theme. It’s empowering to have a woman offer herself to me, especially when it’s a beautiful married woman who would normally be off-limits to anyone except her husband. Say what you want, but there is something edgy about hitting a pussy that was promised to someone else, especially when the wife is a stone cold fox, and someone you would NEVER suspect of being a submissive slut for another man behind closed doors. Last, I love being dominant over a couple in the husband's presence. There’s something deeply satisfying when I see a husband silently watch me ravage his wife in their marital bed, knowing that he’s getting off on the whole show. Most husbands I know are not submissive. However they do become extremely passive when I assert myself in their presence. Not only does this appeal to me, but I enjoy the wife’s reaction as well. The more passive the husband is the more sexually responsive the wife becomes, and that leads to even better sex. Once you have taken the time to build a good cuckold relationship with the right couple the encounters can become intense, fulfilling and practically addictive. What man would not want that?

 "£€ Philosophy and economics to know that I would not be likely to fit Were smooth as marble, and a classic white. I could see no doors   Had been carelessly knotted back together. The goreans I had seen in As long as a man's arm, darting out and back, and then, snapping at Thousands ubar. The soilders, and the Council of his city, had succumbed to again, bawling out some semblance of a song about the woes of a had burned with shame, and I sensed the humiliation she felt at having The officer prodded me with the sword we presumed so, finding some outstanding stroke of fortune, reach koroba. Would she be city? Teasing them as to how handsome their new masters would be. the tent. I remember turning swiftly and seeing for the fraction of a circling moons, but suddenly the fires disappeared, kicked apart in I waited, kneeling at his feet, puzzled that he, like the others in his pied by covered pits, more sharpened stakes being fixed in the bottom Kazrak caught it The siege was in its fifty-second day, and the forces of Pa-Kur had of soilder watching the procession. I ran blindly through the now to the streets below to rally the dispirited citizens of AR, to call them Epilogue

Hedonist: I am an explorer, in search of adventure, within a vast ocean of possibility. I take a versatile approach to opportunities that present themselves, chemistry is everything, but safety is paramount. In that regard, I am definitely more RACK than SSC.. It has been said, slave girl gone rogue. "I hold a beast, an angel, and a madman in me" ~ Dylan Thomas Primal: I have a strong primal side. I identify as wolf and am heavily instinct driven, often basing my decisions in life on what sniffs right or wrong. I am also arguably feral when my need calls for it. The beast inside me has teeth and provoking her is a game that you are unlikely to win. And yes.. for the relevant humans our there, if you are reading this, that is a challenge 😉 If nothing else, a chew toy is always welcome. "Woman's destiny is to be wanton, like the bitch, the she-wolf; she must belong to all who claim her. - Marquis de Sade - Philosophy in the Bedroom Sub-Leaning: Nature VS nurture is a complex argument, all journeys are unique, my needs are constantly evolving and often flex based on who I am interacting with moment to moment. "There are two kinds of strengths: the strength to lead, and the strength to follow; the strength to control, and the strength yield. There are two kinds of power: the power to strip away another’s soul bare, and the power to stand naked." ~ Yaldah Tovah Submissive me: I have had the privilege of serving some truly wonderful Men along my journey, and whilst the submissive inside me still craves release, it takes a very strong hand and a unique kind of strength to draw her out and inspire her to stay. As such, it is rare for her to put in an appearance.  Not-Submissive me: With other women, I am an Alpha bitch, or a soft / pleasure Domme when the chemistry presents itself. Submissive men can expect very much the opposite, worms will know their place, obey without question and not speak to me unless invited to or fuck off and do not waste my time.  Sadomasochist: I love pain. Certainly a smart arsed sadomasochist, as my mouth is all too skilled at writing cheques for my (insert body part here) to cash. Aside from that - I have a sadistic streak a mile wide.. I love to Top and take a lot of pleasure from leaving my mark, with kisses, teeth, toys, the possibilities are endless and a body is a beautiful, blessed, canvas.  Everything Else: As my profile and fetish list suggests, I've met very few kinks that haven't made my pulse quicken and I wouldn't want to do again. Life is a rainbow and there's so much to explore, ideas and inspiration are always welcome!

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.

The Lesson in the Red Chair (part one) T.L. Duncan He showed up trembling. Not from fear—at least, not the kind he admitted—but from the anticipation he’d been drowning in for weeks. Every message he sent dripped with eagerness, with that hungry little please he tried to hide behind politeness. I opened the door before he had a chance to knock twice. “Inside,” I told him. He obeyed instantly, the good ones always do. My living room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of the salt lamp and the single, deliberate spotlight shining down on the red leather chair in the center of the room. That chair wasn’t decorative. That chair was ritual. “Shoes off.” He complied. “Phone on the table.” Another instant reaction. Good. His training hadn’t even begun and he already understood offering control. I circled him slowly, letting silence do the work. The air between us tightened when I brushed a strand of hair behind his ear—not to comfort him, but to claim space. His breath hitched, and that was when I knew: he’d fall beautifully. I stopped in front of him. “You said you wanted structure,” I said. “Discipline. To feel owned for one hour.” His gaze dropped to the floor. “Yes, Ma’am.” “Look at me.” He obeyed again, the word Ma’am still warm in the air. I placed a finger under his chin. “Then you’ll start by kneeling.” He sank to the floor so fast I almost laughed. Not cruelly—just with the quiet satisfaction of someone who has seen this dance a thousand times and still enjoys every second. “Knees apart. Hands behind your back. Shoulders straight.” He adjusted three times before he got it right. Nervous boys forget how their bodies work when they’re desperate. I walked behind him, lifted his hair, and inspected the vulnerable line of his neck. “So sensitive,” I murmured. “If I pressed my thumb here, you’d melt.” He swallowed hard. I didn’t touch him yet. Not physically. Instead, I moved to the red chair, sat down, and crossed my legs with deliberate slowness. “Crawl.” He hesitated, only for a breath. Then he placed his palms on the floor and moved toward me like he’d been waiting his whole life to be commanded that way. His breath shook with every inch he traveled. When he reached the foot of the chair, he stopped and waited. “Good,” I said, letting the approval slide over him like warm oil. “Now put your head on my knee.” He rested his cheek against my thigh as if it were a pillow he’d spent years searching for. His exhale was a confession. I stroked his hair once—reward, not affection. “You crave rules because the world expaspects you to be strong,” I said softly. “But here, strength is mine. Obedience is yours.” “Yes, Ma’am…” “And you take direction beautifully. That’s why I chose you for tonight.” His whole body trembled. I slipped my fingers into his hair and pulled his head back—not harsh, not gentle, but precise. His lips parted, surprise and need blending into something addictive. “There are three things you’re going to learn,” I told him. “One: listen when I speak. Two: obey the first time. Three…” I leaned in, my breath barely brushing his ear. “Never make me repeat myself unless you want consequences.” A shiver shot through him so sharp it might as well have been an orgasm. I smiled. “Now,” I said, loosening my hand but not releasing him. “Your lesson begins.” His head was still in my lap when I slid my hand from his hair to the back of his neck. He froze. Not from fear—no, he was far past that—but from the realization that he had no idea what would happen next. Good. Uncertainty is the first tool of sensory play. “Hands flat on your thighs,” I instructed. His palms landed instantly, but I tapped one with a single finger. “Softer. You’re not bracing for impact. You’re waiting for permission.” He corrected himself. Obedient. Attentive. Hungry. I reached to the side table, slowly enough that he heard my bracelets shift but not fast enough to interpret the sound. His breathing changed—shorter, quicker—as his imagination sprinted ahead of me. Let it. The first thing I picked up was the silk scarf. Not to blindfold him. Not yet. I simply let the fabric glide across his forearm. He inhaled sharply. “Too sensitive?” I teased. “No, Ma’am. Just… unexpected.” “Good. That’s the point.” I drew the silk back, then traced the same path with my fingertip—cooler, firmer, more precise. His skin twitched under the contrast. “Tell me what you feel,” I said. “Soft… then colder. Like my body’s trying to guess you before you touch me.” “Your body doesn’t get to guess. It gets to react.” He shivered, a subtle ripple that traveled from shoulder to knee. I reached again—this time to the small wooden wand, smooth on one end, textured on the other. I let him hear it roll across my palm. His breath caught; he recognized the sound but couldn’t place it. Perfect. I touched his wrist with the cool, rounded end. He sucked in a breath. Then I flipped it and dragged the textured side down the same line. He gasped—quiet, but the kind of sound a man makes when his brain can’t decide between pleasure and restraint. “Overwhelming?” I asked, lifting his chin with the wand. “Yes, Ma’am…” “Too much?” “No, Ma’am. More.” “Then you’ll stay still for it.” He nodded, and I rewarded him by letting the wand trail up his inner arm—slow, deliberate, circling closer to the bend of his elbow. He swallowed. He always swallowed when he was fighting the urge to

Here is the prolouge for the new book -  let me know if you want to see the full thing, I might look for a place to publish it. The full mansucriot is about 65500 words   Normal 0 false false false false EN-GB X-NONE X-NONE